Chapter 19
KATHERINE
I’m not the most superstitious person in the world, but as I glance from the dress to King and then at Gabe and Alex, I ask the more important question. “And is it bad luck? For you to see the dress before the wedding?”
King huffs a laugh.
“Babe, I designed the dress,” he says, that trademark cheeky grin lighting his face.
Of course.
My secret designer.
The bestie who’s been filling my closet with gorgeous gowns for years.
And now this. King slides an arm around my waist as Gabe and Alex step aside, making room for us to admire the dress. My heart swells with love for them. Can we just stop the world and spend forever in this moment? In our bubble?
“You guys have been busy.” Which is stating the obvious, but I want them to know I appreciate the effort.
“Do you like it?” The hint of uncertainty in King’s voice is beyond sweet.
Just like I haven’t had a ton of plans for my wedding, I’ve never looked forward to wedding gown shopping the way LaShonda has. Don’t get me wrong. We can make a day of it. But I always knew there would be drama surrounding the dress because my mother and I would have been at odds.
But now that she’s not in the picture anymore, and I have no one to answer to but myself? My eyes water as bittersweet feelings swell.
“It’s amazing.” I don’t even need to try it on to see what a special creation this is. A custom-designed gown? From my best friend?
How extraordinary. How lucky am I?
“They thought you might want to go shopping. You know, with your friends.”
I shoot a smile at Alex and Gabe. “So thoughtful.”
“But?” King prods, still sounding unsure.
“But nothing.” I give him a squeeze. “This is perfect. I bet it fits like a glove.”
“If not, we have a tailor on standby.”
My lips twist. Of course they do. My men think of everything.
To be seen is to be loved. And it’s obvious from the flowy chiffon A-line skirt that I’m both of those things. I press a hand to my stomach where a kaleidoscope of excited butterflies are aflutter.
“I can’t believe— How long did this take? How long have you—” The bubbling questions die on my lips as I reach out and skim my fingertips over the neckline. “Off the shoulder… You know me so well.”
“You said it makes you feel feminine,” King murmurs.
I lean into him. “Can’t believe you remember that.”
“Of course.” He drops a kiss on my hair.
It hits me like a Bentley then, stealing my breath for a handful of seconds.
I look up at him, eyes smarting.
My men are the opposite of the so-called love I knew growing up. Each of them has shown me more consideration, more thoughtfulness, more care than I thought was possible.
Sure. King leaves his socks on the bathroom floor sometimes, but he listens.
And Gabe gets lost in his thoughts occasionally, so we have to pull him out of the rabbit hole.
But when we’re sitting across from each other in the boardroom, he treats me like an equal.
Getting Alex to relax enough to take this vacation was a fairly monumental ask, but in the end, he arranged everything so he could be present with us and breathe.
“Check out the back,” King insists, bumping my hip with his.
“You’re spoiling me.”
“That’s the idea, Princess,” Gabe chimes in.
Seriously. Could they be any more knee-melting?
My steps are silent on the thick rug as I circle the dress, exhilaration bubbling through my veins.
I see our past conversations in all the small details.
More evidence of King’s devotion. The tiny bit of beadwork that makes the gown shimmer.
The simplicity of the structure that will caress my curves.
The elegant drape of fabric and the wide V that will show off my upper back.
“This would be perfect for a beach wedding,” I murmur as I admire the train. I love that it’s not too long. Just the right length to feel bridal. “Are those…?” I drop to a squat.
“Told you she’d like that part,” King says over his shoulder as he follows me around the dress.
Hundreds of tiny leaves dance along the bottom of the skirt, made from a matching colored thread. The sweet detail is a hat tip to the jungle of indoor plants taking over our townhouse in New York. My lower lip wobbles, and a tear rolls down my right cheek.
“Had to bring mom’s best embroiderer out of retirement for a month.”
“Oh, King, you didn’t.”
“She loved it. Thought it was the most romantic thing ever. And don’t worry, she was paid—”
“Handsomely,” Gabe inserts.
“Not to mention the six passes to their favorite theme park in Paris for her grand brood.” King makes circles with his hands and holds them over his head to mimic a set of very distinct ears.
I shake my head slightly, laughing even though I’m ready to release a stream of happy tears. Could I be any more smitten with him? “Sounds like an adventure.”
“Creation usually is,” King agrees as he steps back to admire the dress.
“You’re sure this isn’t bad luck?” I double back to my original worry.
Alex rounds the dress form and offers me a hand. “We make our own luck, Beauty. You know that.”
And just like that, the silly superstitious concern melts away because he’s right. We have been making our own luck for months, and I have zero doubts that we’ll continue blazing our own trail in the future.
There’s a slight whir of a door opening, and then a crew member appears with a tray topped with four flutes and a bottle of champagne.
I’ll give her points for not gawking at the guys or the dress.
Completely professional, she sets the tray on a nearby table, pours us each a glass, and hands them over, then disappears.
Gabe lifts his flute. “To the most beautiful bride.”
Feeling bashful, I lean into Alex, hiding my smile against the side of his chest.
“To us,” he says.
I drink to that.
“To keeping our wedding invite-only,” King adds, both playful and somber. We tip our glasses for another sip.
We’ll figure the wedding details out to make ourselves happy because that’s what matters. Our love. Our happiness.
“To building our forever family.”