So I’m gonna marry him. I’m not real picky about how that happens and if my mother wants to have her say, fine. That’s fine. She gave birth to three boys and just one girl. So I get it. She NEEDS a wedding.

But when she invites my childhood nemesis, KAREN, to plan our wedding AND be one of my bride’s maids? Uh---no. It’s not happening. Karen Krakken-Channing will not plan my wedding, will not be at my wedding, and she’s certainly not going to be IN my wedding.

Luckily, my jet-butler, Miles, and my almost-husband get this great idea!

We’re going to elope to Vegas on Christmas Eve eve, get hitched in the most ridiculous way possible, and then fly home in time for Christmas Eve dinner.

We’ve got it all figured out.

Nothing can go wrong.

We will have one simple wedding in like… a drive-through chapel, and call it good.

Take that, KAREN!Bossy Bride features Jesse and Emma getting almost-hitched on a roller coaster, tricked into being the stars of a pirate show, jumping out of an airplane, and saying their vows in front of two huge Italian families who don’t speak English. It’s a rompy, whirlwind trip down a rabbit hole of “Fantasy” Vegas weddings planned by a man called “Fingers” and just when you think nothing else could go wrong—a mermaid descends from the ceiling.

Created with VellumChapter OneMy first Bright Berry Beach holiday partyLet me just set the scene for this insane group of cosmetics-crazy celebrators.

We have Mila Sanchez as Santa. That’s right. Five-foot-tiny Mila dressed up, not as Mrs. Claus, but the actual Santa. She’s got the fat suit. The black boots. The white beard. I’m talking the whole shebang. Plus, a red velvet sack filled with party favors.

Not gifts—I’ll get to that in a minute. Party favors.

Mostly they are baked goods. Of the cannabis variety. But there are also tiny bottles of Dom Pérignon with a special Bright Berry Beach rose-gold foil label, and made-to-order Stefano Ricci silk ties with tiny crystal berry embellishments in both red and blue, and every now and then some lucky bastard pulls out a Breguet watch or a bright blue Tiffany box.

I just can’t with Mila.

But I actually wouldn’t mind one of those watches.

Too bad I pulled out a pot brownie. Emma ate it. Like in one gulp. Because I’m sober, so yeah. No pot brownies for me.

It’s nine-thirty right now and everyone is pretty smashed on edibles, or champagne, or silk ties, or Breguet and Tiffany good luck.

I’m just watching this whole thing with a sort of detached fascination.

There is a little part of me that misses the old days. My yacht days. My party days. My sailing-the-world days filled with drugs, and drinking, and sex with strangers.

But it’s a very small part of me.

I do enjoy watching Emma get wasted though. I’ve never seen her wasted. She’s a fun drunk. Dancing and laughing, twirling and giggling. Her eyes are glassy and bright, her cheeks flushed all pink like she just had really hot sex.

I’m in the middle of formulating a plan to lure her up the escalators to her office so I can fuck her on her desk when she grabs the karaoke mic and starts singing Jingle Bell Rock. She looks at me and I get all tingly and warm when she winks and shakes her jingle bells.

God. Emma Dumas. One of a kind. And she’s mine. All mine.

We’re getting married next spring and honestly, that’s all I can think about. I know her bossy mom down in Key West is trying to take over the wedding plans and that’s driving Emma up a wall, but I do not give one shit what the wedding looks like. I just want to pledge my undying love to her and then fuck her for a whole week straight in Tahiti.

Down, boy. Because I’m ready for that desk sex right now and she’s currently the entertainment.

So. Back to the party.

Then we have Hannah. Tall and willowy nerd-glasses Hannah. She looks like a fucking runway model right now. If said runway model was dressed up like an alien elf. Which, I have to say, Hannah pulls off pretty well. Not many women can wear a bald cap, elf ears, and a tight silver minidress and still look hot.

Why is she dressed like an alien elf, you ask?

I’m not sure. It might have something to do with the AlienCon Christmas party down the street. I think she and what’s-his-face the boyfriend just came from there because he’s dressed up like a silver alien reindeer and he keeps saying, “Take me to your mascara,” in a fake robot-slash-alien voice like this is the best joke ever.

Newsflash, what’s-your-face. It’s not. You’re just drunk on edibles and your hot alien-elf girlfriend.

But the really interesting Bright Berry Beach partner here tonight is Natalie. She has two dates. She started the night with three, but one’s a gynecologist and got called in for an emergency caesarian on triplets.

Tags: Carly Phillips, Willow Winters, J.A. Huss Billionaire Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net