Bargaining with the Bride (Honeybrook Love, Inc. 1)

What she'd said before was right—practice did make perfect, and a well-seasoned bride like Natalie knew her way around a corset. Within minutes, Rachael was laced so tightly she could hardly breath. Though, the closer she got to walking down the aisle, the more she wondered if the breathing thing had anything to do with the dress.

Just as she fixed her veil in place for the last time, Eliza bustled through the door, bouquets in hand.

"Found them at last," she waved the roses around with her usual force.

"Great. Let's go." Rachael reached for her, and the second the bouquet was in her hand, she could already feel her knuckles go white with the force of her hold.

"One last look before you go." Eliza grabbed each of her shoulders and steered her back toward the mirror, despite all of Rachael's protestations.

The wedding planner knocked on the door, "Let's go."

"Come on, Eliza. You heard her." Rachael focused on the door. Maybe if she concentrated there she could avoid looking in the mirror. Just maybe she could get through this without feeling like—

"God, you

look like a bride." Eliza cooed. "Look."

She shouldn't have done it. She'd known it was a mistake the moment she turned. Still, the second she laid eyes on herself, her heart broke into a million tiny, splintering pieces.

She did look like a bride.

Behind her, her best friend and her sister were dressed in the lavender dresses she'd imagined since she was a little girl.

And Rachael?

Her hair, normally so wild and unruly, was perfect. Her make up was elegant and beautiful. And the dress...

It was the kind of thing dreams were made of. The delicate white lace hung off her shoulders, making her look like an old Hollywood starlet and a real-life princess all in one. The detail flowed down past her waist until it finally flared into an explosion of tulle.

It was her perfect wedding dress.

It was her perfect wedding.

He was her perfect groom

...And none of it was real.

She couldn’t do this. Not to Garret or to herself. No matter who she disappointed, how was she supposed to go through with another year of being prodded and probed and examined by the man she loved?

She couldn’t take it away from him or back out of the deal. It wouldn’t be fair for him to follow through and for her to back out.

Which, of course, meant there was only one thing left to do.

“Are you ready in there?” The wedding planner knocked again.

“Ready,” they all called in unison. And Rachael meant it.

This time, she really did.

She was ready to be done with the lies. Ready to be the person she wanted to be, no matter what her parents had to say about it.

The next thing she knew, she was standing behind closed oak doors, clutching her father’s arm and listening as the final strains of the processional sounded.

“Rachael?”

Rachael looked up, shocked to find her father looking down at her with something that looked suspiciously like concern.

“Yeah?” she asked, swallowing past the vast dryness in her throat