Page 51 of Always a Bridesmaid
“If you wanna wear a slip, I’ll take out anyone who says you can’t.”
Addie gave a half-laugh, half-sob. “There’ll be talk no matter what I do. I think that’s why I’m feeling the pressure, which is stupid. The entire town is just happy I’m gettin’ hitched. Forever I was the resident old maid, and everyone feared I’d end up alone.”
“If you need me to permanently move to town to fill that position,” Violet cut in, “I can.”
Lexi rushed over, and she and Ford made a Murph sandwich. “What’s wrong? Is it the shop? We can go to another.”
“It’s not the shop.” Addie slapped a hand over her face. “This is so embarrassing. I guess I care more than I realized. I want the wedding to be perfect for Tucker, even though he says it’ll be perfect because it’s him and me.
“But my mom and my nonna are debating every tiny thing and tugging me in opposite directions, and I’m overwhelmed, which makes no sense because poor Lexi is doing the majority of the planning.”
Now Ford was out of his league. Head wound, no problem. Dehydrated hiker, he had the drill down pat. Part of him wondered if an IV would help—not that he had one on him.
The urge to make it better swelled and swelled until his rib cage could hardly contain it.
Violet turned to the bridal shop consultant. “Can you give us a few?”
“Of course. I’ll get the champagne.” With a nod, the tiny woman on stilts was gone.
Ford followed Violet, guiding Addie to the couch and lowering her onto the velvety cushions.
“Do you want me to call Will?” Lexi asked. “Or Tucker or your mom?”
Addie’s eyes went wide, and Ford was about to attempt an “I’m all the man she needs right now” joke when Violet took control. “Can you find her a bottle of water? She’s probably dehydrated.”
Ford opened his mouth to argue she wasn’t showing signs of dehydration—not to mention Addie was a water peddler, constantly demanding her clients, football players, and their group drink more.
Violet caught his eye, though, and he understood there was a method to her madness.
A sense of purpose overtook Lexi’s expression. “I’ll be right back.”
Once Lexi left, the mood lightened, and Violet sat on Addie’s other side and patted her knee. “I know this whole thing is overwhelming. You play football, right?”
Addie nodded.
“Okay, so when it comes to the wedding, you’re the QB. Yeah, you decide a lot, but Ford, Lexi, and me, we’re your…” Violet glanced at him for help.
“I’m your left tackle, Lexi is your tight end, and Violet—”
“Is the coach. I’ve got a playbook, too.” After a reluctant beat, she dug into the bag she’d brought along and withdrew the battered-yet-still-glittery purple binder.
For such a tiny thing, it managed to send his blood pressure through the roof. Yet, he was also kinda turned on by Violet’s approach. Smart, breaking it down like that. Grounding Murph in the familiar.
“Remember that you’re the bride,” Violet continued. “The whole reason we’re here. That means you get what you want, and if you don’t know what that is, we’ll help you figure it out. That’s what good teams do. Mind if I…?” Violet motioned to the diamond ring adorning her finger. “Classic band, emerald cut.”
“Tucker insisted on getting a bigger diamond.” Under other circumstances, he’d mock the way Addie’s voice turned dreamy. “He thinks the football players will hit on me, so he wanted to ensure they saw it every time I taped up their knee or ankles or put them through PT exercises.”
Violet opened the binder to a page marked bridal gowns. A few of them had star stickers, and if Ford wasn’t afraid of the answer, he might ask what that meant. Assumedly, they were her favorites. “These might be more ornate than you’d wear, but if you see anything you like, let me know. Then we’ll narrow our options. Of course, you might want to try some other styles, just so you’re sure.”
“I’m sure that dresses have never been my thing.”
“They might have dressy pantsuits if you truly don’t want a dress.”
“My mom and my nonna might kill me twice if I went that route.” Addie turned to Ford, her wide eyes imploring him for advice he hadn’t a clue how to give.
“It’s your show, Murph.” A lightbulb went off. “And don’t worry about us mocking you for wearing a dress. We got that out when you were Lexi’s bridesmaid.”
“I heard that,” Lexi called, on her way over with a bottle.
