24. Bertie
BERTIE
Doing my hair and makeup before squeezing into my dress for Daire and Rosie’s wedding was the worst decision I could make.
I huff and puff as I try to get the zipper on the side up.
I tried it on again a week ago just to be safe, and it was fine, but today it feels like I’m squeezing myself inside and I’m going to suffocate.
I’m two seconds away from throwing my hair up in a messy bun just to get the strands of my neck.
I’m sweating in places I didn’t know I could sweat.
I’m not getting this on by myself.
“Luke,” I whine, cracking open the bathroom door and peering outside.
I find him beside the bed adjusting his sleeves.
He looks damn good in his tux and even though I’m the size of a blimp and right on top of my due date, I want to jump his bones.
We haven’t had sex since we got pregnant and the time we fooled around after that feels like it doesn’t even count.
He looks over at me, his wavy hair falling into his eyes. He’ll probably get a trim before the season starts. “What do you need?”
“I can’t get the zipper up.” I turn to the side so he can see. “I’m panicking and I’m hot and I’m sweaty and I’m cramping a little.”
His eyes widen, lips parting. “Cramping? That doesn’t sound good.”
I wave away his concern. “Braxton Hicks contractions are a thing for a reason. My body is preparing for delivery in a few weeks. No need to panic.” He doesn’t look convinced. “Help me, please.”
He crosses the small distance between us and adjusts my dress. He manages to clip it at the top and works the zipper up carefully. It takes some finagling on his part, but he secures it. It’s tighter than I’d like, but it’ll have to do.
“I swear I tried this on again last week, and it fit perfectly.”
He rubs his hand over my belly, a small smile on his lips. Something tells me he’s going to miss my pregnant belly.
“You’re nearing the end, so that means you’re growing the most. It’s normal.”
“I know,” I whine and turn back to the mirror in the bathroom so I can touch up the makeup I just did and already began sweating off. I didn’t do too much, because frankly I don’t feel like it, but I’m also not about to show up to Rosie and Daire’s black-tie affair with no makeup on at all.
He watches me in the mirror as I fix beneath my eyes where my mascara transferred.
I meet his eyes in the mirror. “Why are you staring at me?”
His lips tick up on one corner. “Because you’re pretty.”
I shake my head. “I’m sweaty and swollen. I’m the farthest thing from pretty right now.”
“You’re wrong. You’re always stunning.”
I feel my skin flush all over again for a different reason this time.
He leans in and kisses the crook of my neck. I shiver at the press of his lips. My body reacts to him in ways it shouldn’t considering I’m squeezed into this dress and there’s no way I’m going to try to get out of it.
Once my makeup is touched up, I spin around in the small bathroom as best I can, surveying the dress from every angle to make sure I didn’t rip stitches or anything else. But everything seems to be in working order.
“Oh.” I grab onto the bathroom counter with one hand and my stomach with the other.
Luke, who had disappeared around the corner is there in an instant. His eyes flitter over me with worry. “Is everything okay?”
I wave away his concern once I can straighten up. “I told you already, Braxton Hicks contractions.”
He gives me a doubtful look. “Are they happening regularly? Should I start timing them?”
“I’m fine,” I insist with more bite to my voice than I mean to and hurt flashes in his eyes. “Sorry,” I apologize. “It’s just we have a few more weeks until this guy is due.” I rub my stomach. “I want to make it through this wedding and you starting your preseason and then he can come.”
He rests a hand on my waist. “You’ll tell me if you think they’re more?”
“Of course,” I reply, grabbing my silver clutch off the top of the dresser. “Let’s get out of here.”
The venue is gorgeous—a winery they found about an hour from Nashville. It looks like it belongs in Europe, not Tennessee. The main building is made from some kind of old cobblestone, and the outdoor area is elevated enough to overlook the land and mountains beyond.
“I have to find Rosie,” I tell Luke after we get out of the car, and he’s handed the keys off to the valet. “She gave me directions to where she’s getting ready.”
“Okay.” He pulls me in and plants a kiss on my cheek.
I feel my skin warm.
I’m still not used to the open PDA, and we haven’t discussed any labels, but I think we’ve both settled into the silent realization that we both want more out of this relationship.
I give his hand a squeeze and then I follow Rosie’s directions in her text message to the bridal suite. I give the door a light knock and her mom opens it, pulling me into a hug.
I might not have made up with my parents, but I’m glad Rosie has been able to with hers.
“Where is she?” I ask.
“Just around here,” her mom says just as I have another stupid practice contraction and gasp.
“Are you okay?” Her hands hover around me like she’s not quite sure what to do.
I bite my lip. “Yeah, give me a minute.” I take a few careful breaths as the painful cramping feeling disappears. “I’m good.”
“Are you sure everything is okay?” she asks, worry clouding her tone.
“Just some Braxton Hicks contractions.” Something tells me I’m going to be explaining that all day.
“I remember those,” she sighs. “They weren’t fun and you poor thing you’re all dressed up and here today.”
“I wasn’t going to miss this.”
“Well.” She pulls me into a hug. “We’re glad you’re here. If you need anything today, though, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“I won’t,” I reply, even though I know the last thing I’m going to do is annoy anyone on Rosie’s wedding day.
“All right, come through here.” She leads me down a short hall and into another room attached to the first one.
“Oh, Rosie,” I gasp as I catch my first sight of her. “I’m going to cry. You look like a princess.”
Her dress is ballgown perfection and her dark hair is pinned back in an updo with her veil perched on top of her head. She looks like she stepped right out of a fairytale.
“No crying.” She steps in front of me, fanning my face with her hands. “If you start crying then I will too and we can’t have that.”
“Can I hug you?” I ask, scared if I do, I might mess up her dress or something.
“You better.” She pulls me into her arms. She smells like her favorite soft floral perfume.
When she lets go, I have to wipe away a tear. “You get to marry your best friend.”
She laughs at my words. “Crazy, right? A year ago, I still hated him and now I can’t imagine life without him. I know he’s already my husband, but this makes it feel official. I always wanted a big wedding.”
I grab her into another hug. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you,” she says against my neck and lets go. “I need to get my makeup touched up and my shoes on and then it’s showtime.”
I squeeze her hand in mine. “I’m going to go find Luke and my seat.”
“I’ll see you in a bit.”
I say my goodbyes to her and her mom before I slip out of the suite and go in search of Luke.
I find him downstairs by the curving staircase and my mouth goes dry.
He’s so handsome and the tux only accentuates his big body.
As if he can feel my eyes on him, he looks my way and a smile slowly spreads over his face.
Then he winks—a gesture I can find so cheesy, but something about him doing it is different.
He meets me at the bottom of the stairs and offers me his arm. “Are you doing okay? No more contractions?”
“They’re practice contractions, not real ones,” I remind him. “And nope, no more.”
I feel a little bad for lying but a fib has never hurt anyone before.
I let him lead me to where the ceremony is being held and we find our seats. When another Braxton Hicks hits me, I do my best to keep my features normal and breathe in and out through my nose.
I’m fine.
This is no big deal.
I hope so, at least.