Zoey rested the bouquet on her knees. “Probably because she still thinks it’s too long on her, though it’s barely to her knees. I’m starting to understand that old nursery rhyme, about girls being sugarandspice.” She snorted. “It’s definitely both.”
“Sounds like a teenager, all right.” Rosalyn laughed as she took the other tiny chair across from Zoey.
“Some days I almost forget she’s been through so much. It’s like she’s always been around.” Zoey winced. “Then other days…”
Rosalyn twisted her lips to the side. “How are she and Linc doing?”
“They have their moments. But most of the time? Like oil and water.”
“It’s only been, what, about a month?” Rosalyn frowned. “It’ll get better.”
“That’s what I keep telling him.” Zoey and Linc seemed to have found a good rhythm between the two of them, at least. Fewer awkward moments, more banter. Though sometimes, she caught Linc looking at her, his eyes serious, and she’d give just about anything to know what he was thinking. Was he regretting their decision? Worried about Amelia? Still jealous of how she and Amelia had bonded faster than he had?
She had no idea, and didn’t want to risk stirring the pot to ask.
“Ready!” Elisa stepped from behind the screen, her professionally made-up face glowing.
Zoey and Rosalyn jumped to their feet and gasped simultaneously.
“Elisa!” Zoey pressed one hand against her cheek. “Dunkin’ donuts, you look stunning.” The white, form-fitting strapless bodice, covered in a delicate lace pattern, flared at the hips and drifted into a princess gown of multiple soft layers.
“Absolutely perfect. Noah is going to want to skip his own reception and whisk you away.” Rosalyn grinned.
A flush of pink tinted Elisa’s contoured cheeks. “He better not, after what we paid for that cake. I should have made it myself, but?—”
“Don’t be silly. It’s your day to enjoy, not work.” Zoey stepped back as Rosalyn rushed behind Elisa to finish pulling the zipper.
“Speaking of, Zoey, I almost forgot to ask.” Elisa winced. “Our photographer has to leave after the ceremony—apparently her babysitter had an emergency, and she can’t stay all evening. Would you be able to take photos during the reception?”
A tiny thrill leapt in Zoey’s stomach. “Of course.”
“Even if it’s just with your phone.” Elisa waved one manicured hand through the air. “We have that photo booth we rented, but I really wanted some candids of people dancing too.”
“I actually have my camera in the car—I learned about this lighting hack, thought I’d try it during your big exit.” One of those rabbit trails she’d fallen down the other day.
“Oh, perfect.” Elisa turned as Rosalyn finished zipping. “Thank you.”
A heavy knock sounded on the door—clearly a man’s. Zoey raised her eyebrows at Elisa.
She shrugged. “Whoever it is can come in. Noah knows not to even try.”
Ha. Smart man. Zoey set down her bouquet and headed for the door as Elisa and Rosalyn moved to the mirror. She swung it open.
Linc stood in the carpeted hallway, buttoning the sleeve of the white dress shirt he wore under a fitted gray suit. His hair was down long, combed back with a bit of gel.
Just like Zoey had imagined while daydreaming with Rosalyn at Chug a Mug last month.
She swallowed, tried to speak. He seemed to be having the same problem, his gaze sweeping over her floor-length, sage-green matron-of-honor dress.
He cleared his throat, hands falling to his side. “You look…”
“Matronly?” She tried to remember how to breathe, but his gaze, lasered in on hers like that, made it hard to remember any basic survival skills.
He snorted. “Hardly.” Then he took her hand, raised it above her head. Inviting her to spin.
Zoey obliged, the chiffon skirt with a slight slit on one side flaring, then settling once more about her legs. The sweetheart neckline dipped below her collarbone, while thin straps created cold-shouldered, sheer sleeves that fluttered around her upper arms. She’d felt pretty when she put it on a half hour ago, but now…now she felt like the only woman in the church.
Which was pretty dangerous, all things considered.
