Page 67 of Turbulent Fires

I gasp as I read the next line of her agenda. “There’s a freaking flower rehearsal. Why in the world does someone need a flower rehearsal? Do the flowers have to be taught how to behave?”

“Well, according to your mother, everything needs to be perfect, which requires rehearsing,” he says as if it’s not a big deal at all. I glare at him. He wipes the smile from his lips, but it’s still showing in his eyes. “We could sneak off and say our vows privately.”

I’m not amused. “We could promise each other to survive the circus,” I sarcastically say.

He jumps on board. “And vow not to elope unless absolutely necessary.”

I stop and look at him with hope. “Wecouldelope. We could sneak right out of here and fly to Vegas.”

I’m so close to sneaking off to do just that when Jayden barges into the room holding two suits, his grin wide. He’s a part of all of this torture. He’s smiling more during this wedding planning than I thought possible. He’s supposed to be the serious brother, but he’s like a kid who just received a new puppy. He’s more sadistic than I thought possible.

“I had your tux looked over. It’s been cleaned, and they replaced a missing button,” he proudly says. “I’ll hang it up.” He starts to walk away, then turns. “Don’t forget Sherman’s bringing wine to taste in an hour.”

Wolf blinks as he looks at the tux. Now, it’s my turn to smile. He only laughs when I’m being tortured. Not quite as fun when he’s on the receiving end.

“Is it too late to fake a skydiving emergency?” he asks.

Drake pops his head in behind Jayden. “The fireworks team says we can either spell out Forever, or have the gold waterfall cannon, but we can’t do both. I’m not sure what to do.” He pops out just as quickly.

“Holy hell!” Wolf grumbles.

“At least your family’s as crazy as mine,” I say, feeling a little better. We were so close to escape, but they’d hunt us down, and it wouldn’t be pretty, not pretty at all. It might be fun for a minute, but we’d pay for too many years to count. I let out a sigh.

A woman moves into the room next, her hair in a bun so tight it looks painful. She’s holding a measuring tape and stops in front of me. “Please stand up.” She’s so dang firm, I rise before I think of saying no.

She shakes her head. “No, I need Wolf to stand.” He isn’t as compliant as I was.

“Why?”

“We need to measure your inseam.”

“You really should buy me dinner first,” he tells her with a wink. I fight not to laugh. The woman doesn’t blink. She also doesn’t show an ounce of amusement, she simply waits. Wolf slowly rises, looking like a Catholic schoolboy who’s been scolded by an angry nun.

“Alrighty then,” he says. “Let’s get it over with.”

The woman starts moving away, and he slowly follows. I’m barely holding back my laughter. I like it a lot more when he’s the one being tortured. I love the man, and that includes loving his misery when it’s in the right moment.

“Don’t forget to do a little hemming on his ego as well,” I call out after them.

“Haha, you’re so funny,” he calls back over his shoulder. I don’t get to enjoy my amusement for long before all attention is back on me.

Three people move to me, pinning fabric to my torso while someone else holds swatches up to my face like I’m a wall in need of paint. Damn, do most brides actually enjoy this?

“Hmmm, your skin has cool undertones,” one of the women whispers. “We’ll definitely go with champagne.” She pauses for a moment. “Maybe pearl.”

“How about—?”

The woman stops me in my tracks. “If you dare say ivory, I’ll quit on the spot. Ivory is the easy answer, but you’re spectacular, bold, charismatic. That will never do for you.”

All of these people quitting is my idea of heaven, but it wouldn’t matter. They’d be replaced before I could blink, and this zoo would start all over again.

“I wouldn’t dare suggest that,” I tell her. She smiles as if I’m a good girl. I had no idea a nightmare could come to life before enduring wedding planning.

A very loud, flamboyant man bursts into the room, wearing clothing so bright it hurts my eyes. “I have samples!” he cries out in an ear-piercing tone that makes my eardrums ring.

I want to dive into the couch and pray it eats me. I can’t look at more samples. I’ve seen so many, I’ll never go to Costco again because the word “sample” will send me into counseling. I’m going to get PTSD from wedding planning.

Wolf, humbly walking back into the room, cheers me slightly. We’ve agreed to walk through life together, and I want him to feel as much pain during this wedding planning as I do. He’s back in time for another round of food tasting. We’ve eaten so much these past few days we’re not going to fit into our wedding clothes, causing a whole new round of hysteria we’ll be blamed for, even if it isn’t our fault.

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