Page 87 of The Bridges I've Burned

Or at least as ready as I can be for…whatever this is.

I’d obviously never tried on a wedding dress, but I’d been here a few months ago when Marin picked out her first gown—Gretchen must have been out that day—so I knew what to expect.

When it came to putting on a dress of this magnitude, you had to be prepared to leave your modesty at the dressing room door. I took off my robe and proceeded to stand there in my black lace panties and bra while Gretchen helped me step into a mermaid-style gown with a plunging neckline and gorgeous beaded overlay. She had to cinch it slightly at the waist with clips, but when I looked at myself, I nearly gasped.

“Would you like to show him?” she asked, a knowing smile on her face.

I nodded, still staring at my reflection.

She patted me on the shoulder. “It’s okay, honey. Most brides are a little emotional when they see themselves in a wedding gown for the first time.”

Her words shook me out of whatever I was feeling, and I waited for her to grab the train before I opened the door.

“Your bride, sir,” she said as if announcing a queen.

I felt all sorts of ridiculous as she placed me up on a large pedestal like a prized hog.

But then my eyes met his, and suddenly, I didn’t feel quite so ridiculous anymore.

In fact, I watched him stare at me in the reflection of the mirror as he sat, one booted foot over the other, like he’d just been handed the keys to the kingdom.

I felt powerful. Sexy. Special.

His gaze raked over every inch of me, lingering on the curve of my hips and the valley between my breasts as he leaned forward and dragged a single thumb over his bottom lip.

Gretchen finished primping the skirt as he continued to watch. “You could easily add a veil to this or go without.” She stepped back, obviously happy with her work. “It’d go beautifully with a—oh!” She startled as Zander rose from his seat and hopped up on the pedestal behind me.

I caught the sight of her eyes widening just as his arm snaked around my waist.

I didn’t think she was used to men in her domain. And I didn’t think anything could have prepared her for Zander Green.

“You look stunning,” he whispered in my ear, making my knees weak. “I want more.”

Why did I feel like he wasn’t just talking about dresses?

“Thoughts?” Gretchen managed to say. She sounded out of breath as she looked at him.

Join the motherfucking club, Gretch.

“What do you think, babe?” he asked as I looked at us in the mirror.

His tall frame was curled around me like he’d done it a million times. That possessive hand splayed across my stomach made a statement—mine—and my traitorous body liked the sight of that a bit too much.

“I don’t think this is the one,” I said, never taking my eyes off his. “Too formal?”

Not sure what the dress code was for our nonexistent wedding, but I’d had to say something.

“Yeah, I agree. You look like a bride, but not my bride,” he said with a cocky grin.

He placed a soft kiss on the hollow of my neck before returning to his seat. I felt it all the way down to my toes, and I couldn’t tell if he’d done it for the sake of appearances or if he’d just wanted to.

It was all I thought about as Gretchen helped me off the pedestal and back to the room. I replayed it in my mind, like a damn VCR tape, over and over as she helped me out of the dress and into a new one.

When I came back out in a gauzy A-line number and watched him do nearly the same thing, my hopes began to dwindle.

Maybe it was all just a game for him.

As we headed back to the room for the last and final gown, I tried not to think about it and just focused on the dress. I saved the best for last after all. It was black satin and had a slit all the way up the way up my damn thigh. The A-line waist and the corset-style back made my boobs look fucking amazing.

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