Dirty Wedding

Even so, she stops by my room before she goes to sleep and insists I bring her when I try on dresses.

"Honestly, Indie. You're so hopeless with style. The whole tall and thin thing is completely wasted on you."

Chapter Forty-Three

Indigo

"This is not boss bitch." Sienna studies a lace sheath. "It's pretty, but it's not you."

"Pretty isn't me?"

"Don't act offended. You know you're not pretty."

"I do?"

She shoots me a please look and takes a long sip of her iced latte. "What do you usually call it? Artsy girl?"

"Usually."

"I can say that instead of boss bitch. If you'd feel better."

I can't help but laugh. "I'll take boss babe. I want the babe in there."

Sienna takes another sip. "Is that what you want to say with your dress? Boss babe."

"I think so."

"Then you should." She holds up a pretty princess gown. "It's your wedding. God, I can't believe it's your wedding."

"I know." It's official today. I picked a venue. We set a date.

We announce it at our engagement party next week, but I've already told Sienna. He's already told his family.

Eleven weeks from tomorrow.

In eleven weeks, I marry Ty.

It's fucking crazy.

"No offense, Indie, but why are you marrying him?" Sienna asks.

"Which part of that am I supposed to not take offense to?"

"All of it."

A laugh falls from my lips. My sister, master of tact. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth."

There's a right answer here. Because I love him.

Do I love him?

I'm not sure. I don't know what that means. But I know what Sienna wants to hear. "The sex."

She laughs. "Really?"

"Really." That's the truth. The money is a factor. A big factor. But I said yes because I want to fuck him. I stuck around because I want to fuck him. I'm still here because I want to fuck him.

She hangs the dress. Drops to her knees to study the tulle skirt. "Is it that good?"

"Yes."

"Details?"

"In your dreams."

"Please." She tries to press her palms together, but her iced latte is in the way. "You owe me a detail. At least one."

"He gives me what I want."

"That's a generalization, not a detail."

What am I willing to tell her?

Nothing.

I don't want to share this with her. With anyone.

"He's…" I bite my lip. "We want the same things."

"Which are…"

"None of your business."

She stares at me, waiting for me to break. When I don't, she adopts her game face.

It's Sienna's attempt at boss bitch. And she does look like she's ready for action. But she still looks sweet.

"You both like it rough?" she asks.

"No comment."

"Just admit it."

"Maybe."

"Yes-be."

"Okay. Yes. We both like it rough."

"What kind of rough?" Her eyes light up. "Does he tie you up? Spank you? Call you names?"

"That was one. That's all you get."

She makes a show of pouting. Picks up my iced tea. Moves to the podium in the middle of the room.

This place is as low-key as bridal boutiques get, but it's still decked in powder blue and white lace.

Better than pink and white lace, but still awfully traditional.

Paloma picked it, of course. Because the owner will leave us alone until we need help.

And because it has a selection of gowns that will make me look like a rock star.

"You're holding my tea hostage?" I ask.

"Yep."

"It's not that good." I sit next to her. "I won't tell you."

"What if I get you drunk?"

"Try it if you think it will work."

"That's exactly what he said."

I laugh. "He's smart."

"Well, yeah. If he's marrying you, he's obviously smart."

"Thanks."

"Is it really the sex?" She sips her latte. Shakes my iced tea don't you want it. "I mean, I get it. He's handsome. Rich. Good in bed. And a soccer player. You have to nail that down before it's too late."

"Too late?"

"He's a guy."

"Which means…"

"They get bored. That's what people say." She finishes her last sip. Glares at her empty cup. "And he was sleeping with a lot of women before you two reconnected."

"He was."

"Are you worried he'll miss that?"

"No." I never worry about that.

"Because other women can't give him the things he wants?"

"Because he's loyal."

"And what I said."

"Sure. And what you said."

She squeals as she crosses her legs. She's in her usual tomboy attire—denim shorts, grey tank top, hair in a ponytail—but she still blends into the girly bridal boutique. "Hot, rich, good in bed, soccer player. I approve."

"I appreciate that."

"And given that you two already set a date… we should pick a dress."

"So you can get more coffee?"

"Yeah." She stands. Moves to the second rack. The dresses Paloma pulled just for me. "And it's my duty as your sister to help."

"Is it?"

She nods. "And I… I kind of want to see you in a gown."

"Really?"

"I know. It's weird." She runs her fingers over a silk sheath. "I feel a sudden desire to wear pink." She blushes, embarrassed at embracing any kind of girlishness. "Just try the dress, okay?"