Betting with the Bride

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ivory

A wave of nausea rushes through me, causing me to wrangle out of my covers and rush to the bathroom. For at least ten minutes, I am hanging over the toilet bowl. Gingerly, my hair is pulled back from my face by two gentle hands. "When are you going to tell him?" Mother's sweet voice rings out.

Miserably, I whimper, and weakly wipe the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. "I don't know," I groan. Once I am absolutely positive the sickness has ended, I wobbly stand up. The grime on my body is driving me insane, and I quickly turn the shower on.

My mother shoots me a wistful smile. "He has the right to know, Ivory," she reminds me. Reluctantly, I nod. There's just something that's stopping me. What if he overreacts? This relationship is only due to a bet. Never was an actual family involved. What if he runs?

"I'll tell him. I will. I just need some time," I ramble. I step into the warm shower, letting the beads tumble down my body. I've known for a few days, and I've been dreading the moment I must tell Hunter.

Mother exasperatedly sighs, and changes the topic. "What is your schedule like today?" Mom asks curiously, and it is obvious she is just as excited as I am.

"At ten, the hairstylist is coming over. By two-ish, I should be at the venue getting dressed. The bridal party should arrive soon after," I inform her, casually omitting that the bridal party just so happens to be complete strangers. Hunter picked my maid of honor and bridesmaids; they are hired. The only aspects I controlled are the guest attending and who walks me down the isle: my mother.

"That gives us just enough time to hit the spa," Mom tells me, and I can sense her wide grin. Shutting off the water, I envelop myself in a soft towel.

"I guess I am up for a bit of pampering," I say before returning to my room. After I am changed into casual jeans and a sweater, I head downstairs to where the smell of bacon emits from. Curiously, my nose leads me to the kitchen. Beautiful aromas greet me, beckoning me in. When I take a seat at the kitchen table, a plate of golden scrambled eggs and crispy bacon is placed in front of me. "Thank you. You didn't have to-" I thank her with a smile.

She waves my attempts away. "Oh, The least you need to be worrying about is your breakfast," she explains. Gratefully, I gobble down the food and orange juice.

"Where do you and Hunter plan on going for your honey-moon?" Mom asks while turning onto another street.

My eyes widen, and I gasp. "Oh, crap! I totally forgot! I guess Hunter has something planned. I'll talk to him," I answer. My reaction only earns a merry laugh from Mom.

"Ya'll are just too cute!" Mom exclaims. "The boy looks at you like you're his world!" she gushes dramatically.

I refrain from rolling my eyes and force a smile, but it comes off as a grimace. "I wouldn't say that," I mutter. Mom lightly swats my thigh.

"Oh hush! He loves you, and you know it! It's so adorable!" If she thinks so, why don't I? Why can't it be easier? Not bothering to reply, I gaze out the window.

If he would just tell me what is actually on his mind, things would be much easier. Instead, he feeds me bull that I know is a lie! Every time I ask him something, his face turns to stone, and he won't say a word. I can't keep pretending. This is more than just a bet. It's all fun and games until feelings get involved.

An hour later, I am pampered, polished, and back home. I think I can see my reflection in my fingernails! Since when was that possible? Mom rambles on about how gorgeous I'm going to look. Laughing at her comparison of Cinderella and me, I flip through a chic, woman's magazine, and Mom works on brewing a cup of tea. When the doorbell rings, I quickly hop up to answer the awaiting door.