𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞

04 | wedding attire

I was fidgeting with the waist of my dress, taking frequent glances in the mirror, when I heard the closet door creak open. And creak closed.

I met Jameson's eyes through the mirror.

His lips met my ear, his fingers hovering over the zipper on my spine. "Need some help?"

I didn't. Zipping up my dress was something I was perfectly capable of. And yet, I still nodded.

The effect he had on me was ridiculous, really.

Smirking, Jameson left a kiss behind my ear. Then, with painstaking lethargy, he pulled the zipper up my spine.

The dress felt a little tighter than it had when I'd bought it, although that may have been because Jameson was getting me hot and bothered.

He left a kiss behind my opposite ear and murmured, "You're being very inconsiderate, Heiress."

"To who?"

"Libby."

Eyebrows furrowed, I turned to face him. "Why?"

"It's her wedding day," he murmured, eyes running down my deep red dress, "and you're wearing this."

My lips twitched. "I'm not wearing white."

"You're wearing red, and that's even worse."

I could tell, from the pinch of his eyebrows, that he was struggling to keep his hands to himself.

"It's not my fault," I said, tugging on his tie, which was the same shade as my dress. "Maroon is their wedding color."

Jameson sighed. "You're right, Heiress. It's not your fault." Grasping my hips, he backed me against the mirror. "But you certainly know how to torture me."

Although Jameson hadn't pinned my hands back, his hips had pressed me so hard against the reflective glass that I could hardly breathe.

"Jameson," I managed. "You're going to break the glass."

"That would be for good reason," he murmured, releasing my waist, "but we have a wedding to get to."

• • •

Nash and Libby's ceremony took place on a ranch just outside of town. Although I'd offered up Hawthorne House's backyard, they'd insisted that they wanted it elsewhere.

I couldn't really blame them.

Libby always said that the life I lived wasn't hers, and Nash didn't exactly love his childhood mansion either.

I had, however, convinced them to use the gardens for a reception later that night.

Alisa and Oren should have been setting it all up right then. I'd asked my lawyer because I doubted she wanted to attend her ex-fiancé's wedding.

She'd agreed without complaint, and, quite frankly, I hadn't wanted Oren hovering over me on a day like today.

As Jameson and I walked onto the property, my dress smelling that off the seats of a new Porsche, I took in the surroundings.

A few yards away from an old barn were two rows of seats, a makeshift isle separating them. And in front, a raised podium that looked more rustic than formal.

It screamed Nash.

When I caught sight of him, I even noticed a pair of cowboy boots hidden beneath his slacks.

There were few people seated, but I knew we were the last to arrive.

Libby had wanted a small, intimate wedding.

Xander had saved us two seats on the front row, and Jameson helped me sit down.

I did a once-over of everyone. There were plenty familiar faces - family and friends - but a certain someone wasn't here.

"Where's Grayson?" I said to Xander.

Grinning, he pointed across the ranch. Standing below a cherry tree, wearing a tailored suit, stood Grayson. He looked as though he were steeling himself to do something.

"He's officiating," Xander explained.

I had to laugh.

Jameson rolled his eyes. "Show off."

When music finally began to play - country, to no one's surprise - everyone's eyes shifted backward.

Libby had finally emerged from the barn, which she'd certainly been using as a bride's room, and began walking toward the set up.

Nash stilled on the podium and Grayson took his place beside him.

My sister looked about as beautiful as a bride could be. She'd dyed the tips of her hair dark red to match the sash of her dress.

I couldn't help but smile.

I'd known she'd throw her own twist into a typical white gown.

As she walked down the aisle, alone, a pang of sadness filled my chest. Neither Libby nor I would get to have a father walk us down the aisle.

I didn't know why it hurt so much.

Libby, however, looked happy as she reached her destination. As the ceremony took place, I let the subject drop because of how big her smile was.

Nash made her happier than I could ever.

When Grayson finally granted Nash permission to kiss her, he grinned, pulling her into him.

I watched them kiss, happy, and couldn't help but wonder how Jameson would kiss me on our wedding day.