Bring It Home (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 3)
What more could I ask for?
Chapter Eight
Posey
My family home is full of all the strong, phenomenal women I grew up admiring.
Harper is helping Mom and Shelli get ready. As Piper does my makeup, Reese does my hair. Grace is on the phone, yelling at someone about how they set up the chairs in the field. My grandma hasn’t stopped crying. Seriously, she has a box of tissues under her arm, bawling that I am getting married. To my surprise, my mom doesn’t match her; she’s actually keeping it together pretty damn well. The day is still young, though.
Amelia sits on the bed, ready, with one of her twins in her lap. The other twin is in my newest cousin Sofia’s lap. She’s also ready, in a stunning yellow floral dress, showing the world why my cousin Ryan is totally obsessed with her. Ally sits on the floor beside me, her feet in my lap as she wires flowers to the headpiece my mom got me. I didn’t even know I was having a cake until Audrey Odder showed up, not only to get ready but to finish my cake. Fallon, Aiden’s mom, is actually helping her since it’s all so last minute. I told them they didn’t have to, but neither listened to me.
I didn’t even know how much I needed to be around these women until this moment. I still can’t believe it’s about to happen. It feels like I have a million butterflies in my belly. I’m almost light-headed, and I have gooseflesh all over. I am so excited, terrified, and a little sad. I wanted so desperately to call Tina and beg her to come, but I didn’t want to go against Boon’s wishes. Even Wes said it wasn’t worth the call or text. I don’t know what that means, but it sucks. I just want Boon to be happy. I want him to feel whole. Can he do that without his mom watching him give himself to me, and me to him?
I also can’t seem to fathom what the real issue is. I thought we were getting along just fine. She was so kind when I was recovering, helping and being attentive. She called weekly to check on me, texted daily. But something changed, and I don’t know what it is. My stomach hurts from the tension of it all, but Boon was so reassuring when we woke up this morning. He kept saying how he can’t wait to marry me. How this is going to be the best day of his life, and I agree—it will be.
My sister stands from where Harper had just curled her hair to perfection in the way I love it. Small curls, all wild and free. I grin over at her, and Piper’s annoyed with me since she is trying to make the perfect cat eye. “Woo-hoo, sexy lady!”
Shelli giggles as everyone catcalls her. My mom asked for all the women in my life to wear floral to go with the lace of my dress. My sister took it one step further, not that I’m surprised. Her crop top has a beautiful halter neck and is made of lace. The floral skirt fits her waist tightly and flows beautifully. I know she has a pair of red-bottomed shoes by the door, along with my mom’s and mine.
Like a blessing, I get to wear the shoes from the day my mom got married. They were a gift from my dad, and they’re stunning. They are specially made Louboutins with the red bottoms, but they have glitter on the heel and back before a nude mesh on the sides leads into more glitter. The date my parents got married is embellished on the right shoe, and their initials are on the left. I’m a little worried my heels will sink in the field, but Mom says she has these guards she’ll put on my shoes to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’ll believe it when I see it.
Shelli flips her hair, posing as pictures are taken by the photographer Harper brought with her. Shelli comes over to me, kissing my cheek before heading out of the room. “Gotta go warm up my voice,” she says, grabbing a guitar that is leaning against the wall. “Aiden and I have something special for y’all.”
My heart warms. They wanted to sing for Boon and me as I walk down the aisle. It’s incredibly sweet. “Don’t expect the same. I can’t sing for shit.”
She laughs. “Nope. Just be ready to dance.”
In unison, Ally, Amelia, and I all groan. Sofia just laughs. “Do you not want to do it?”
“No,” I say simply, giving her a “Come on” expression. “No one wants to do a group dance.”
She giggles. “I think it’s cute.”
“I am going to be the size of a beach ball, while she is a mini beach ball. There is lifting, there is dabbing, and there is some arm dance thing. Let me tell you, I go into labor, I’m blaming Shelli,” Amelia complains, and I snort with laughter as Piper goes back to my makeup. When my grandma walks over, taking my hand, I have to fight laughing at her. She’s a ball of tears.