Chapter 36
Daniela
I imagine the day of your wedding would be one of the most exciting days of your life. I never really pictured mine as a girl. Never imagined a boy would want to stick around me long enough for that. Looking back, I realize that’s a tragic thing for a girl to feel so early in her life.
But today, I feel excited. Excited for my best friend, and also for Liam, who’s started to feel almost like a brother to me.
Even though I joke around and call him dad.
I can’t say I’ve been to a ton of weddings in my life, just a few fellow teachers’ and one or two other random ones.
But none compare to this, I think as I look out the upstairs window at the yard.
And it’s not even night yet, when the whole setup—the dance floor, tables, altar, flowers—will be illuminated with string lights.
On top of that, the yard is enclosed by lush, towering trees, making it look like something out of a fairytale.
And my best friend is the fairy princess bride.
Or whatever is in those fantasy books she reads.
I couldn’t sleep last night. Part of it was because I was so anxious for today. The other part was because I’ve been thinking about after the wedding, and what happens when I go back home to Sacramento. It feels weird.
I don’t have time to dwell on that today. It’s Layla’s special day, and we’ve got a busy morning ahead of us. I pour her a glass of champagne, and then four more for Liam’s mom, Kylie, and Britney, who are getting ready with us in the master bedroom. And one for me, of course.
Kayla, the twenty-year-old makeup artist and hairstylist is here, and it’s my turn. She brought a friend with her, because there are a lot of us to get done. I was nominated to go first, with the girls claiming I’d be the least likely to cry and mess up my makeup throughout the day.
I’m going to cry if Sandy doesn’t change this damn cheesy song about a chapel, though.
“Sandy, you beautiful, regal matriarch of the Barnes family, would you mind if I put on something a little more…lively?”
“This is festive, Daniela!” she shrieks. But she’s smiling .
“I’m pretty sure Taylor has a song or two about weddings. Can we settle for those? Pleeease?” I smile sweetly, palming my hands together.
“Bride’s choice,” she replies.
I knew she wouldn’t be offended. I liked her vibe since the shower.
Suddenly, I’m wondering what Dex’s mom is like…I’ll find out tonight, most likely—unless I can avoid it all night.
Layla looks like she doesn’t want to step on her soon-to-be-mother-in-law’s toes, and Sandy must sense that as well, because she surrenders and let’s me take over.
Victory.
Layla flashes me a grateful look when Sandy isn’t watching, and I take a seat in the chair, ready to get primped.
The mood in the air is one of happiness and excitement. Layla doesn’t show an ounce of nerves. She looks content—happy to be marrying her person very shortly.
As I settle into the chair, I watch my friend, and a flood of memories rushes in.
Like the time we first met as little girls, when I gave her one of the beaded bracelets I was wearing and asked her to be my best friend for life.
That was a bold move. I can’t imagine any adult doing something so brash.
When do we become so guarded, so mistrustful of others ?
There’s something really special about making a friend as a child and growing up together, remaining friends through it all. There’s so much history, so much pain and joy woven into the years. I feel lucky to have kept such a connection.
I think back to two years ago, when she experienced one of the worst moments of her life—when both of her parents were taken from her.
I was devastated too, having practically grown up with her parents.
Her dad was probably the only consistently present male figure in my life.
But I didn’t let myself mourn too hard. I wanted to be strong for her.
She spent days at my house at first. Until she wanted to be alone. Then she slipped into a brutal depression. I knew she’d work her way out of it eventually, because she’s the toughest person I know.
More memories flash through my mind, and I smile and laugh softly to myself as the hairstylist messes with my hair. My eyes are closed, just enjoying the moment.
I open my eyes when I hear Kylie and Britney gossiping next to me about what available men might be at the wedding for Kylie.
“What about Ethan?” I ask. “He’s hot, and I’m pretty sure single. Also, the other groomsman is coming solo, I believe. He’s a little older but I hear he’s a good guy. And like, insanely wealthy. If you’re into that sort of thing… ”
“Hmm…” Kylie seems to be weighing her options. “I’ll have to think about it. I’m not sure what kind of vibe I got from Ethan last night.”
I nod, encouraging her.
“What about Dex? Are you guys…”
“He’s off the table,” I cut her off before I even realize it.
Everyone in the room hears it, and they all smile at me. And now I’m very uncomfortable. Damn my mouth. “That is, if his high school girlfriend isn’t all over him.”
“What?” Kylie shrieks. “She’s coming?”
“She sort of invited herself. Talked about it like it was going to be some big high school reunion for them or something.” I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”
“Yeah, sorry about that…I was kind of put on the spot.” Layla adds from across the room.
“Don’t be sorry,” I reassure her. The last thing I want to do is make her feel bad on her wedding day. It’s her decision, anyway. Not any of ours. “What were you going to do, say no right to her face?”
“You would have,” Layla counters.
“Maybe,” I shrug. “It’s really not a big deal, anyway. She’ll come, she’ll eat, maybe make a comment or two like she tends to do, and then leave.”
“That’s our girl,” Britney pats me on the shoulder.
I grumble at her.
“Okay, Daniela. You are all done,” Kayla tells me. She curled my hair and pinned half of it up, with two braids on the side. Just like we did in the trial run. It might be a little too sweet for me personally, but oh well. It looks good. And it fits the theme of the wedding.
After my turn, Britney and Layla rotate in. Layla doesn’t want to go last and cut it too close.
While she’s getting her hair done, she starts rummaging through her little bag, cursing under her breath.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
“Yeah…I can’t find my “something old” necklace. It was in a black jewelry box—you can’t miss it.
“Do you think it’s maybe in your room?” Sandy asks.
“Maybe…” Layla replies, deep in thought.
“I’ll go check for you.” I need some air away from this room anyway. It’s getting stuffy, and I’ve had one and a half flutes of champagne already.
“Thank you. If it’s in there it would be on top of my dresser, I think.”
“Got it.” I salute her. “Wish me luck. I’m entering the sacred bachelor chambers.”
“Good luck,” everyone says in unison—though a bit lackluster, I must say. These ladies don’t wish me luck at all.
I immediately hear loud male voices as soon as I step into the hallway, away from our Taylor Swift cocoon.
“Daniela! You look…nice” Jackson tells me, blushing .
“Thanks dude,” I say enthusiastically, giving him a high five. “You’re killing it in that suit. What are you now, thirteen?”
“Almost eight…” His cheeks are still flushed as he looks at something interesting on the floor.
“Well, I’m on a mission for the bride. Where is everyone? I thought I just heard them.”
“Uncle Liam and Ethan went out to the backyard. I don’t know where Dexter is.”
I laugh at his use of the name again. “Okay. Thanks, kid.” What a sassy little guy.
“Welcome,” he responds while grabbing some juice out of the fridge.
I smirk and shake my head, lingering for a moment to watch him like a proud, embarrassing aunt.
Once he steps out the back door, I eye the spread of desserts on the counter, realizing I haven’t eaten since breakfast—and I’ve had a decent amount of alcohol already.
Nobody will notice if I sneak just one…
I grab a bite-sized cream puff and pop it in my mouth. A small moan escapes me, and I close my eyes, savoring it.
A throat clears somewhere nearby.
My head whips toward the sound. Dex is leaning against the bedroom doorway, watching me with a smirk, his hands in his pockets. I narrow my eyes at him, mad that I got busted. He jerks his head toward the bedroom behind him, and I follow as he turns and walks that way.
I definitely don’t check out his ass and shoulders in that suit once again as I walk behind him, softly closing the door.
He turns to face me. “You look beautiful.”
Goosebumps rise along my arms as his eyes trace me up and down, but the look on his face is unreadable.
“Thanks. So do you.”
He smirks. “Thank you.”
He reaches out and wipes a thumb across the corner of my lip. “You’ve got a little white stuff there.”
I glance at his thumb as he puts it in his mouth, narrowing his eyes at me. “Pretty good,” he remarks, lowering his hand. “Don’t blush—It looked good on you.”
I swallow and take a step closer, holding his gaze.
Then he takes a step.
Now I’m close enough to run my hand down his lapels. I look down as my fingers glide along them, feeling the intensity of his gaze on me. I look up and meet it.
“I cannot mess up this makeup.” It comes out almost like a whisper, but stern, just as I intended.
The corner of his lip curls up as he leans down. I feel a gentle hand on my back, and his intoxicating scent invades my senses. I inhale as he leans toward my ear, shivers running down my spine .
“I’ll just have to tear these braids from your hair later.” His voice is like a storm in my ear—low, but with the unrelenting power to unravel me.
I clear my throat and compose myself as he straightens, fixing me with that mischievous stare.
Then I scowl at him for getting the best of me.
“Only if you crawl to me first.” I say in a flirtatious tone.
“Gladly.”
“Umm…” I open my mouth to speak but totally forget what I came for.
He crosses his arms, waiting, his face full of amusement. The smug bastard.
“I’m looking for a damn necklace,” I finally spit out, then move to the dresser in search of the black box.
My eyes land on it almost immediately, but I pause a second before snatching it up so I can catch my breath.
I turn to face Dex again. “I’ll see you later,” I promise with a sly grin. Then I leave him standing there, his hands in his pockets as he watches me go.
Once I reach the door to our bridal suite, I stop to regain my composure once again, taking a few deep breaths.
One thing my therapist taught me that’s always stuck is to simply stop and breathe when you feel out of control.
Sure, it might not work for everyone, but it usually helps me.
Granted, in this instance it’s all due to sexual tension, but it still helps .
As soon as I step back into the room, though, I’m silently cursing myself as I look at the sea of rose-colored dresses.
“Daniela, why is your face so flushed?”
Damn that Dexter.