Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Her words, and her faith in me, doubled my strength.
“Thanks.” I gave her wrinkly cheek a peck and strode off toward the kitchen like I was marching into battle.
I would get Stella back or die trying.
Thirty-Eight
Stella
The knock on the Bride’s Room door surprised us.
Emme gasped, jumping to her feet from where she’d been perched on a loveseat, gathering the billowing tulle of her off-the-shoulder wedding dress and hurrying back to the mirror. I don’t know what she was worried about. She was beyond stunning. Simply flawless. Every time I looked at her in her gorgeous white gown and Grams’s veil, which she’d decided she preferred over the one she’d originally chosen, I got choked up. And she glowed. Maybe it was pure happiness, maybe it was the life she carried inside her, but I’d never seen my sister so radiant.
“Is it time already?” she fretted, leaning close to the full-length mirror. “I thought we had like ten more minutes!”
I checked the clock on the wall. “I think we do. It’s only three-thirty.”
Maren, glass of champagne in hand, went to answer it.
“Hi,” said Skylar Pryce, Mia’s assistant. “Sorry to bother you girls, but your grandmother is downstairs and would like a quick word with Stella.”
My sisters and I exchanged a look.
“What’s this about?” Emme asked suspiciously, like I might have had the nerve to plan something behind her back.
I shook my head. “I have no idea.”
“Well, hurry up.” Emme made frantic circles in the air with one hand. “I don’t want to get behind schedule before things even get started.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” Setting my champagne glass down on a table, I followed Skylar out of the room and down the stairs.
“Careful,” she said, looking over her shoulder at me.
I dutifully picked up the skirt of my dark purple dress—“It’s eggplant, dammit!” insisted Emme in my head—and made my way to the first floor.
“She’s in the kitchen, which is that way,” Skylar said, pointing toward an archway off the foyer. “Need me to show you?”
“No, I’ll find it. Thank you.” I started down the hallway, my heels tapping on the stone tile floor. Passing a mirror hung over a small table, I gave myself a quick once-over, lest the reason for Grams’s summons be to critique my appearance, but I found nothing objectionable, at least to my eye. The color of the flowing strapless dress looked nice with my fair skin. The front of my hair was pulled back, and the rest fell in soft curls over my bare shoulders. I wore more makeup than usual, but didn’t feel overdone, as the artist had stuck to the soft blush-toned neutrals I’d requested, and I’d foregone the false lashes. If Grams found fault with me today, she was crazy, I decided. I looked and felt good.
I continued walking down the hall, wondering if there was any way Ryan might see a picture from today, maybe in a frame at Grams’s house. It would serve him right to see me looking like this, I thought. He wouldn’t know that I died a little inside every time I thought of him.
I pushed open the kitchen door to find it dim and empty. For a moment, I was confused. Had Skylar sent me to the wrong place?
“Hello?” I called out. “Grams?”
“She’s not here.” The voice was deep and sent a shiver up my spine.
The door swung shut behind me.
Thirty-Nine
Ryan
She took my breath away.
For a moment, I’d been unable to say anything as my eyes hungrily took in everything about her—the wave in her hair, the curve of her breasts, the narrow waist above a long, flowing skirt. Beneath that dress I imagined her long, smooth legs, and my knees threatened to buckle.
“Hello?” she called. “Grams?”
“She’s not here.” I stepped out from the shadowed periphery of the kitchen and moved closer to her.
Stella gasped, placing a hand on her chest. “Ryan! You scared me.”
“Sorry.” My heart beat furiously in my chest.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m not sure, actually. Your grandmother tricked me into coming. I thought I was taking her to a funeral.”
“What? Where is Grams?”
“I’m not sure about that either, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she were somewhere close enough to feed me lines when I start messing this up.”
“Messing what up?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What is this, Ryan?”
My tongue was tied in knots. Her expression wasn’t all that reassuring—not openly hostile, but not happy. “God, Stella. I’ve walked into enemy territory with a cooler head than I’ve got right now. You’re so beautiful, I can hardly breathe.”
She softened a bit, dropping her arms. “Thank you.”
“I’ve been in here for the last few minutes, going over all the things I wished I could have said to you that night in the rain, but looking at you, I can’t even think straight.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “And we have no time for this. God, I knew I’d fuck this up.”