Page 8 of Under the Ink

“Aren’t there wedding photos you need to take? You’ll need me in them too.”

Squeezing her friend’s hands so tightly the rings dug into Naomi’s flesh, Ginny’s face lit up. “What if you wore a shawl? Could you handle wearing it longer if you did that?”

“Wouldn’t that ruin the look of your bridal party?”

“I don’t see why you couldn’t. Especially if it was black—and then your tattoos would blend in with it.”

Finally.Ginny had finally figured out the main reason why Naomi was so damned uncomfortable in that dress. No, it wasn’t because they’d worn stupid dresses their whole lives, even though Naomi had vowed to never put one on again—and it wasn’t because she was showing a little skin.

It was because, with her arms bared, her entire life was exposed for the whole world to see. The self-torment, the trauma, the past she’d tried so desperately to cover up with colorful art—even though the lines and swirls and pictures did an amazing job of disguising the flesh underneath, Naomi felt exposed in that sleeveless dress.

Every freaking person she knew in Winchester would be at Ginny’s wedding—and Naomi would have rather been anywhere else.

At work, no problem. Her tattoos blended in with the crowd there and most of the people coming in didn’t know her at all. In a church, surrounded by people from her past, people she hated?

No way.

But she didn’t want to ruin her best friend’s wedding by being a demanding maid of honor. “No, it’s okay.”

Frustrated, Ginny turned. “What doyouthink, Bets?”

The seamstress turned, holding her bag, and smiled warmly. “I think it’syourwedding. You get to call the shots.”

“Yeah, but will my wedding party look okay if…?” Her voice trailed off, highlighting her reluctance to say too much.

“If you’re asking if I’ve ever seen other wedding parties wearing shawls, hell, yeah. That’s what I mean. It’syourwedding, and I promise if you think of anything you might want to do, it’s been done before. Besides, your maid of honor can get away with looking a little different.”

“So I guess I should relax.”

“I didn’t say that. Don’t even think about relaxing if you haven’t sent out your save-the-date cards by now.”

Ginny’s nervous laugh made it sound like she hadn’t, but Naomi knew better, because the one Ginny had given her earlier in the year was tucked in the little pocket calendar she kept in a dresser drawer, the one item Naomi actually used to organize her life. As for her best friend, ever since Walker had proposed to Ginny, the woman had meticulously planned every single step.

Just another reason why Naomi would never get married. Ridiculous.

But she’d tried at least to keep her cynicism from her friend. The girl was crazy in love, and Naomi didn’t want to rain on her parade any more than her normal demeanor did on the regular.

“Can I get out of this now?”

“Yep. Just be careful of the pins I put in the hem. I can unzip you first.”

With a nod, Naomi turned, allowing the seamstress to pull the zipper down before she quickly stepped behind the folding panels in a corner of the room. While she pulled the garment down her body with the care she’d give a fragile eggshell, she heard Ginny and the seamstress chatting about Ginny’s gown, a breathtaking piece of art. Although Naomi would never wear a wedding dress, she was happy for her friend. And while she hadn’t seen Ginny in the gown yet, Naomi knew she would be stunning in it, the most beautiful woman in the room on her special day. Even dressed in white, Ginny’s strawberry blonde hair would highlight her pale face and pink lips, and her brown eyes would shine like gems.

Once Naomi stepped out of the dress, she grabbed the hanger she’d draped on the panels and carefully hung the dress on it. Then, sticking it out from behind the panels, she tried not to sound impatient. “Here you go.”

It seemed like forever before someone took it from her. Here she was, practically naked in nothing but a bra and panties, and she was dying to get dressed again. Innormalclothes. For Ginny’s sake, she’d even removed her shoes so they could get a good idea of what Naomi would look like on that special day.

Ginny and the seamstress’s voices faded as they left the room, and Naomi grabbed the black t-shirt with a message in white on the front that saidIf I wanted to talk, my mouth would be open, pulling it quickly over her head and thin body. Then she slid into her blue jeans, pulling up the zipper while letting out a long breath of air.

Better.

By the time she was sitting in a chair, pulling on her socks and black combat-type boots, Ginny was back in the room. It was Ginny’s mother’s craft room, a space perfectly suited for trying on clothing, but being here simply added to Naomi’s discomfort.

If Ginny noticed, she wasn’t going to dwell on it. “Okay…so tell me about this temp job again. I missed what you were saying.”

“Which part?”

“The whole thing. Tell me everything from the beginning. You know all this wedding planning has made my brain like Swiss cheese.”

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