"Okay."
"She paid for everything and invited all the people she wanted, but she'd done most of it without telling me."
"Oh..." he frowned.
"Yeah. I talked Lance into it, but..." She shook her head, pulling another peach pipe bomb from the rack. "Well, you can't always get what you want."
"I guess not. Still—"
She cut him off. She'd given herself enough pity without him adding to it. "Let's not talk about it, okay? Let's talk about these hideous dresses." She held up what looked like a prom gown left over from the eighties and he laughed.
"You're not seriously going to have someone wear that?"
"It's what my mother would want. Probably because that's what she would have had her bridesmaids wear when she got married a hundred years ago."
"So? Don't you think she's gotten enough of what she wants? If she's going to make you have a wedding, why don't you at least make it the wedding you want to have?"
"You clear have never met my mother."
"No, but I know I'm the groom and my job is to take care of my bride."
"You're the fake groom."
"I have a job to do none the less, don't I?"
She laughed, and though their morning had been beyond bizarre, something warm flooded through her. Like...gratitude, "Maybe you're right."
"I'll never get sick of hearing that," he grinned.
"What would you pick?"
"Something purple."
"Purple?"
"Isn't that your favorite color?"
She eyed him wearily, but he only shrugged, "You wear purple at least once a week. It's not like you're the only one who gets to be observant."
"No, I guess not." She smiled, and then moved through the store with him, occasionally pausing to look at one dress or another. He was right, though. Every dress that caught her eye was purple.
Not just purple. A pretty, flowy lavender that made her think of spring. It was the exact kind of color she'd always pictured for her wedding, but she knew her mother would balk at the color.
Still, when she reached the back of the store, her gaze lighted on one dress she couldn't resist.
It was as untraditional a dress as possible. The same beautiful lavender as the others, but with off-the shoulder sleeves that would make her sister and Natalie look like fairy princesses. It was gorgeous. It was elegant.
It was on sale.
"This is beautiful."
"It looks like you," Garret smiled.
"My mother will hate it."
"All the more reason to ring it up."
That soothing warmth spread over her chest again, and though she knew she should say no, she couldn't bring herself to walk away.