12. Rory
12
RORY
I take Lara back to my room before I decide to do some wedding shopping. I want to get this over with as soon as possible.
“I’ll bring up dinner when I get back,” I promise, and Lara nods listlessly.
I clear my throat, wondering if something is wrong. But I push it to the back of my mind , leaving the mansion.
When I arrive at the boutique, one I found online, a small Asian woman greets me with a big smile.
“Welcome to Soo’s. Can I help you with a tux fitting?”
“No, thank you. I’m looking for a wedding dress.”
I plan on just wearing my best suit.
She tilts her head. “Your fiancée–she's not with you? How will we know her size?”
“I think I can estimate it.” I try to think on my feet. “My wife, she’s a bit of a... recluse. We’re having the wedding at home with family. Is there a possibility someone could travel to do alterations if needed?”
“Of course.” She narrows her eyes at me. “But it’ll cost you.”
I bark out a laugh. “Money isn’t an object.”
My father has already given me a limitless credit card to put wedding supplies on, and even if he hadn’t, I have quite a chunk of savings sitting in my account.
She brightens up. “Then it’s lovely to meet you, Mr....”
“Murphy.”
Her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t push. Bless her. “You can call me Soo. I’m the owner here. What size should we start at?”
“Probably a six?” I estimate, thinking of Lara’s slim frame. But she’s tall for a woman, probably around five-foot-eight, so she’s probably got more weight on her than meets the eye.
Soo nods curtly and leads me to a row of dresses. “These are all a size six.”
“Great.”
I look at all the options with absolute confusion. I’ve never thought about buying a wedding dress for someone. I’ve never even imagined getting married.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and when I look at it, my mouth runs dry–it's work. Specifically, the office manager, Sheila.
I’ve taken a leave of absence, but my time is almost up, and she’s probably calling to check on me.
I wince as I ignore the call, putting my phone back into my pocket.
Soo looks up at me, clearly noticing that I’m overwhelmed.
“Tell me about your wife-to-be.”
I look down at her, blinking in surprise. “Ah, she’s... she’s thin. Lanky, long legs, long arms. Trim waist.”
Soo hums. “That helps, but what’s she really like? Her personality?”
Oh, great .
I have no real idea who Lara Burke is.
“She’s strong.” I know that much is true. “And sassy. She doesn’t let anyone give her attitude without giving it back.”
Soo smiles. “A feisty one, then?”
She flips through the dresses on the rack and pulls one out–a classic silhouette with chiffon flowing at the bottom.
I wrinkle my nose. “Maybe a bit too frilly for Lara.”
“Lara,” she muses. “A beautiful name. Something more classic, then.”
“Yes, thank you.”
She pulls out another dress, another silhouette but this time, one that’s cinched at the waist, with spaghetti straps and just a bit of lace on the sweetheart neckline.
I imagine Lara in it, her dark hair spilling down the cream-colored fabric.
“It’s perfect."
Soo smiles. “I’ll take it to the counter while you look at the veils and shoes.”
I blanch.
Shoes ?
I hadn’t thought of that. I have no idea what size she is.
“I’ll come back later for the shoes.”
She shrugs and heads to the counter while I peruse the veils. I choose a long one with pearls around the crown. Something about the pearls just screams Lara.
Soo rings me up, and I scribble down my address for her.
“I’ll call if I need alterations.”
She nods, smiling and running my father’s credit card, which goes through with no issues even though it’s close to what my apartment costs in a year.
Next, I head to another boutique to pick up some clothes for Lara. I go with a size six, picking out some high-waisted shorts, a navy-blue, simple shift dress, a few tops and some cotton panties. I have no idea what to get her in terms of bras, so I just grab a couple of sports bras in a size small and hope for the best.
When I check out, the cashier looks at me curiously. “Someone having a birthday?”
I shake my head. “Just need some new things for my fiancée.”
The words sound strange coming out of my mouth. I don’t think I’ve ever bought clothes for a woman before. I’ve never been in a serious relationship, not since high school.
My life was always so complicated with who my father was that as an adult, I didn’t want to get anyone else wrapped up in it.
Then work took over, and well... I just haven’t gotten back on the horse, so to speak.
I hurry back home because it’s almost time for dinner, and I can smell it cooking when I walk in–our cook, Kristina, is making her famous shepherd's pie. I can smell the lamb cooking.
My mouth waters.
I haven’t eaten much since all this got started. I’ve been so anxious and busy with everything.
I take the stairs two at a time, but I knock softly on my own bedroom door before trying the knob.
Lara sits in the middle of the bed, wearing my clothes, cross-legged, her shoulders shaking with sobs.
My throat clenches.
I hate to see women cry. It’s like a particular weakness of mine.
“What’s wrong?” I ask softly, and she looks up at me with watery green eyes.
That may be a stupid question. I mean, she’s here against her will, away from her family....
“Nothing.” She sniffles, wiping at her eyes.
I sit on the edge of the bed gingerly, looking at her as if she’s a wounded animal that may attack me if I’m not careful.
“We’re supposed to earn each other’s trust, honey. Don’t lie to me.”
I expect her to say, “Don’t call me honey,” but she doesn’t, just wiping at her eyes with the heels of her hands.
She takes a shaking breath. “I always thought my father would walk me down the aisle.”
I wince. “Well, there’s time still, for that, isn’t there?”
Lara glares at me. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“This isn’t forever,” I promise her. “After this is all over, we can get the marriage annulled. We can go back to our lives.”
Lara sniffles again. “I want to believe that.”
“I’ll show you.” I reach across the bed to take her hand.
Her skin feels so warm and soft, making my heart speed up.
“I’ll show you that I mean it. That you can trust me. I’m not going to hurt you, and you’ll be free to go as soon as this is over. As soon as you and Bree are safe.”
Lara searches my face, and in the end, she seems satisfied because she nods.
“I thought I’d marry for love too,” I confess, wanting to tell her something real.
Lara’s eyes widen. “Yeah?”
I nod. “I knew that living here with my father, I’d be married off for some alliance he wanted to make. That’s part of the reason I left. I wanted to have my own life, away from him. He infects everything within a thirty-mile radius.”
I let out a long sigh, and Lara moves her hand away gently.
I pull the bag of clothes and her wedding dress up onto the bed, and she makes a little surprised sound in the back of her throat.
“You got me all this? Is that... is that a wedding dress?”
“It is.” I stand up and clear my throat. Something like fear sticks in my throat.
Is it because of how soft Lara’s hand felt in mine? The way I can’t stop looking into her eyes?
“Let me know if it needs alterations.”
I push back the fear, the guilt, everything I’m feeling, and walk out of the room, downstairs to get dinner.
Kristina is putting the food out on the table, and I insist on helping her, bringing the gravy boat and placing it next to the casserole dish.
“Rory.” She smiles in a way that has the lines at the corners of her eyes deepen. “I haven’t seen you in years! Are you back home for a while?”
“For good,” I lie, wanting everyone to think I’m all-in on this marriage and this plan.
“That’s lovely.” She sets out wine glasses and a bottle of red and a bottle of white. “Your father will be thrilled.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, my head still spinning with what happened upstairs.
Why does my heart race when I touch Lara’s hand? Why does the idea of her sobbing in my bedroom make me feel so bad?
I guess I just feel guilty.
I sit through dinner with my father and Kristina before making Lara a plate.
“Your girl not feeling well?” Father asks, a smirk turning up one corner of his mouth.
I feel sick to my stomach.
“She’ll come around.”
Dad grins. “Atta boy.”
I stand up, hating that he’s proud of me now , after I’ve agreed to do this heinous thing.
“Can’t let the bride-to-be starve.” I fake a smile and take a wrapped plate and a glass of white wine in my hands.
At least with Lara here, I can use her as an excuse not to see my father all the time.
Chapter Thirteen