“I fell in love with you the moment that cupcake hit my pants.” I smiled. “I found it fitting to propose here. Now, let’s go home and tell Eloise.”
“Did she know what you were planning?”
“Yeah. She knew. She helped me pick out the ring.”
“And she didn’t slip?” Her brow arched.
“I don’t know. Did she?” My eyes narrowed.
“I swear to God I had no idea you were going to propose. But I’m happy you did. I can’t wait to marry you.”
“Good, because we’re getting married this October.”
“Wait. What?” Her eyes widened. “Ashton, that’s not enough?—”
“It’s more than enough time, sweetheart. We’ll hire a wedding planner and let them do all the work. No expense shall be spared. I want us to have the perfect autumn wedding.”
She jumped up, her arms wrapping around my neck as her legs tightened around my waist.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” she said, planting tiny kisses all over my face.
“I love you too, babe.” I chuckled.
“I already know where I want to have our wedding.”
“Oh yeah? Where?” I smiled.
“Here. At the Mall and Literary Walk. The Elm trees are amazing and so colorful in October. And then we’ll have the reception at the Loeb Boathouse with the lake view.”
“Sounds perfect.” I kissed her.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Charlotte
I made a new best friend during our wedding journey—Carlos, our wedding planner. He didn’t take anyone’s shit, and he was brutally honest about everything. But he was the best, and the only reason he was available on such short notice was because Ashton tripled his rate to back out of another couple’s wedding. I felt bad, but Carlos assured me that the couple probably wouldn’t make it to the altar anyway.
I tugged at the bodice of the third gown I’d tried on and stepped out of the dressing room. Carlos sat next to Eloise on a velvet bench, legs crossed, sipping the complimentary champagne as if he were the star of a reality show. He spat out his champagne when he saw me.
“Oh no. Absolutely not. You look like you’re auditioning to be in one of Lady Gaga’s videos, honey.” He dramatically waved his hand. “Sequins and puff have their place, but not on your wedding day. No. No. No.” He shook his head.
“I think it’s beautiful,” Melissa said.
“Do you need glasses, darling?” Carlos asked her.
“I agree with Melissa. I think it’s pretty,” I said, staring into the mirror.
With a heavy sigh, Carlos stood up, walked over, and scrutinized me like a jeweler inspecting a fake diamond.
“Pretty? Darling, this dress is shiny. You deserve elegant and timeless. Not Vegas showgirl meets cupcake wrapper. Next!” He shouted.
I went back into the fitting room and looked at Cornelia, the kind woman who had been helping me pick out the gowns. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a big deal. I’m used to dealing with wedding planners who think they know everything.” She smirked.
I tried on the fourth dress and stepped out. Carlos clutched his chest.
“No. No. No. You look like a Victorian ghost who haunts bridesmaids—way too much lace. I’m having nightmares already, and so will your guests. If you decide on that gaudy dress, I’ll need to bring sage and a priest to your wedding.”
