Page 3 of Enraged

Fuck, I want to shower. I hate showering the night before an event.

“There is my gorgeous bride!” Blaine beamed at me. “How are we doing this morning, beautiful?”

“Like I wish I could have showered!” I half joked. “How are you?”

He gave me a confused look.

“Why can’t you shower?”

Ummm… because you told me not to.

“You said not to, right?” I reminded him. “I showered last night but I still just feel gross.”

He laughed a hearty laugh. “Sis, I told you not to shower and wash your hair because I need it a tad oily for your updo, but in no way was I telling you not to wash your ass.”

He covered his mouth as he remembered Bristol was in the room, but Bailey was laughing.

“Oh.” I felt silly.

“I’ll do Mama and the girls first. Go clean your clam, love bug!”

Nodding, I took off for my bathroom.

“No hair wetting!” He called after me.

“Got it!”

I turned the shower knob to the warmest setting and slipped out of my robe while I waited for it to heat up. Admiring my bronze skin, I mentally thanked the girl at our local spray tan boutique.

I look like I’ve been tanning in Maui instead of freezing half to death in Georgia.

As I stepped into the shower, I winced as the scalding water cascaded over my skin. As I lathered my body, my nervousness returned.

I’m so ready to get past the scary part and get to the cabin.

I don’t know how long I stood there scrubbing my thighs, but it was long enough for Blaine to tap on the glass shower door.

Startled, I shrieked.

“Relax, honey,” he quieted me. “You don’t have anything that I didn’t see and rule out in high school.”

I laughed.

Blaine was new to Creek’s Edge, having moved here less than a year ago after he lost his husband of five years. He came into the bank to speak with us about a home loan and I fell in love with him instantly. His energy and light, despite the loss he had endured, was such a privilege to be witness.

The idea of falling in love is scary as it is, but the idea that you may have to live without your person is fuckin’ terrifying.

I shuddered at the idea of losing Jace.

“Everyone is done but little miss princess. I couldn’t remember if you wanted her hair a certain way, if she or Bailey had certain ideas or if I have creative freedom,” he explained his interruption.

“Whatever they want is fine. If they don’t have any specific ideas, you have complete creative freedom.”

“Perfect!” He beamed. “Her curls are a dream to work with!”

“Her mama would probably disagree with you. She says she looks like Beetlejuice when she first wakes up.”

His laugh echoed off my bathroom tile as he pointed to the invisible watch on his wrist.

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