Page 25 of Whiskey Kisses

“You’re getting married at a bar?” she squeaks.

“It’s a rooftop bar. And we rented it out.” I leave the bathroom, picking up Poppy on my way to the living room so I can give her a snuggle. “Well,herented it out. We’ll have a brief ceremony, then dinner. You can be my witness. And my maid of honor.”

“This is crazy,” she says. “But I guess not as crazy as having to marry Cole’s crusty ass.”

“Amen.” I chuckle because it’s either that or cry.

After a fitful night of sleep,I wake up long before my alarm and stare at the ceiling. My mind, which has been racing ever since we concocted this scheme, resumes its frantic pace.Will I have to move out of the carriage house?Probably. Daddy will be on the warpath when he finds out I’m married, and not to his friend’s demon spawn.

Will I move in with Tristan, then? Does he want me to? Doesn’t he stay in an Airbnb? Does he expect me to move to Boston? I’m not leaving Savannah, not even for a year.Juniper gives a long meow, her yellow eyes peering reproachfully from the doorway.Tristan thinks my cats are cute, but does he like them enough to cohabitate with them?

Eventually, my phone alarm buzzes from the nightstand, and I reach over, silencing it with a yawn. It buzzes again beneath my hand, and I pick it up. It’s Opal.

Good morning!

You up yet?

Morning.

Yes, I am.

On my way.

You make coffee, I’ll bring breakfast.

Knowing my bestie, she’ll bring beignets—her favorite. Smiling, I shuffle to the kitchen to start the coffee pot. I grab two cups, sprinkling a generous serving of ashwagandha to mine. I want to be energetic, but relaxed. Not jittery.

When Opal arrives a little while later, she hands me a bag of fresh, warm beignets and a garment bag. “Hey, Bridechilla.”

“As opposed to Bridezilla, I assume?” I snort as she pushes past me to come inside. The sun’s already up, painting the sky in brilliant peaches and yellows. “What is this? A dress?”

“Of course!” she says. “I can’t have you getting married in business casual or whatever the fuck.”

“Aw.” I swallow the lump in my throat, closing the door. “Thank you.”

“It’s a loaner so don’t get too excited,” she says. “I got it from that consignment shop over by City Market.”

Nodding, I rest the garment bag over the side of my couch and unzip it, swatting Juniper away when she tries to get inside. Opal picks her up, cuddling her as I pull out an emerald green mini dress with a sash that ties on the side. “Is this satin?” I breathe, fingering the tulip skirt. “I don’t know, Opal. If this fits, you ain’t ever seeing it again.”

“Go put it on.” She laughs, giving me a gentle shove.

The top is a little loose, as Opal’s boobs are bigger than mine, but the wrap-style design makes that easy to fix. “Sexy, but classy,” I say, emerging from the bedroom.

“That’s exactly what I thought! That green really complements your hair, too,” she cries, clapping her hands. “Okay, so I lied. I did buy thisfor you, but it was supposed to be a birthday present. Guess you’re getting it early, so don’t expect anything else.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine you wearing this.” Grinning, I twirl around, brushing my fingertips along the hem, which barely hits mid-thigh. Not the type of dress I ever thought I’d get married in, but somehow more perfect than I ever could’ve imagined. “Thanks, Ope.”

“My pleasure.” She flutters her eyelashes prettily. “I think you should pair it with those strappy beige heels that lace up your ankles.”

“I don’t even know where they are. Did you ever give them back to me?”

“Um, yes. Like six months ago. Now take that off so we can eat,” she commands, hurrying over to unzip me. “My coffee ready yet?” I pour her a cup, and we settle in at the kitchen bar with our beignets. “I meant to ask, is it cool if Eziah comes? I told him last night after we got off the phone.”

“Let’s not tell anyone else until after,” I admonish, brushing powdered sugar from my mouth. “And of course. I love Eziah.”

“You nervous?” she asks, texting. Eziah, probably.

“Yup.” I gulp down some more ashwagandha-laced coffee, praying it helps. Maybe I should just drink the tea, nix the coffee. But if I don’t have coffee, I’ll get a headache. I glance at the clock. It’s already nine. Why hasn’t Tristan texted yet today?Because you’re not actually together, dummy.

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