The Neverending Hangover

Chapter Seven

I was SO excited for Bre's bachelorette party, I could barely contain myself, but first, her bridal shower.

I got up early Saturday, ran with Brad, went for a quick motorcycle ride together, showered, then started getting ready. My hair took an hour to get in perfect waves cascading down nearly to my waist, and my makeup took thirty minutes, but it looked amazing. I was wearing an old summer dress of mine that was still in style enough for me not to mind. It was a light green and white striped wrap dress, knee length with a belt I tied into a bow on the side. I put in fake emerald earrings and no necklace as the neckline had a professional style collar.

Since I was going to be wearing high heeled cowboy boots all night, I opted for white dressy flat sandals. I had painted all my nails yesterday, a deep shade of purple so dark it was almost black. I kept my toenails painted year round but didn't typically do my fingernails because they chipped too quickly. They didn't seem to last long enough to be worth the effort.

I sang for Brad the whole time I was getting ready while he had a glass of whiskey in a double walled frozen glass.

"I'm going to cut the grass, babe", he said when the whiskey was gone.

"Okaaay?", I asked. It seemed a strange thing to decide to do after a large drink.

"I'm slightly drunk now so I can tolerate it", he said, winking.

I burst out laughing. He was so funny sometimes! I gave him a kiss, told him to be careful, then headed over to Bre's parents' house.

...........................................................................

Bre's bridal shower ended at three.  At four, the limo driver called me to check all the details. I had a paper with everyone's addresses and phone numbers, and had sent him all this information a couple weeks ago. He would take the most efficient route to pick us up and head to the first bar, but the way back would probably be an as needed basis for who got taken home first. He was going to start picking everyone up at eight.

Brad was watching me with a little smirk, leaning up against the kitchen wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest, a gorgeous chiseled statue.

"What?"

"I was just thinking...", he said with a smile, "that you probably have enough time to fix your hair again if I mess it up".

I cocked my head and considered the proposition.

"Come here", he said, quietly, still smiling.

I walked over and slid one hand around the back of his neck as he leaned down to kiss me. He ran his hand along my waist and found the bow, pulling one of the loose ends to undo it. Then he opened the front of the dress and ran his hand along the bare skin of my waist.

As my dress came all the way off, Brad picked me up and carried me upstairs.

Some time later, Brad was still slightly laying on top of me with his head on the pillow next to mine and his forehead against the side of my head.

"Baby?", he asked in his deep, calm voice.

"What?"

He lifted his head and looked at me.

"Do you want to be married to me?"

I stopped breathing.  I could tell by looking into his icy blue eyes that he was completely serious. His face was open and vulnerable. I wasn't sure what to say. It's not that I hadn't thought about it, but in my head this event was always in the future somewhere, nowhere close to today.

"I'm not sure. I've not had a very good track record so far.  I've been engaged twice".

"I don't want to be engaged to you", he insisted. "I want to be married to you".