Page 55 of Heart Strings
At least not yet.
“I noticed you two spending some time together…” As if that hadn’t been carefully orchestrated by the bride herself.
“He’s been really understanding about the whole mess with my dad.”
Of course, Lark can sense what’s left unsaid. “You have no idea how invested I am right now. Tell me everything.”
Everything? The scissors tattoo on Aidan’s arm flashes through my mind’s eye. Which makes me think of ribbon fastening his wrists to the headboard and the wrecked lust in his voice.
Her mouth forms an O shape. “Okay, we need to discuss whatever just went through your mind because that’s the perviest grin I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Back when I was an undergrad in Austin, Lark and I would laugh over my sordid tales and memories of her college days. But it’s always been different with Aidan. I suddenly understood why she didn’t share any intimate details about her and Callum.
“Oh my god, chill!” I can’t help the smile that creeps up my mouth as I tighten the corset-style bodice. “It’s just…felt natural between us. I didn’t think that Aidan and I would fall into old patterns again, but we have and I can’t even be upset about it.”
Hope glimmers in her eyes. “You’ve forgiven him for leaving?”
I chew on my lip before I remember the expensive gloss on them. “We both have regrets about the way things ended. I pushed him away and he left without a fight.”
“I told you; you can’t keep holding grudges, Lo.”
“You might be right.”
“Now, back to your dad—”
“One piece of psychological trauma at a time, please.”
Lark catches her reflection in the mirror and goes mute. Ivory satin straps drape off her shoulders and the full skirt contrasts with the cinched waist, creating a timelessly romantic silhouette. Glamorous blonde waves studded with baby’s breath and fresh mini roses tumble over her clavicle. She didn’t have a big wedding the first time around, just a dress she already owned and a trip to the courthouse. So much has changed in both our lives since I stood by her side as maid of honor back then.
“You’re stunning.”
Joyful tears well in her eyes. We embrace and I remind her that she deserves to be happy and that Callum is one lucky man.
There’s a knock at the door. It’s Anvi and Rory. Anvi carries an ice bucket cooling a bottle of champagne, and Rory has a tray of strawberry-rimmed flutes. Anvi and I match, the streamlined bridesmaids’ dresses a flattering burgundy that works beautifully against our rich skin tones. Rory sports a suit in a matching shade. Both squeal when they see Lark in all her bridal glory, which gets her squealing.
I am not the squealing type and never will be, but I smile wide.
We pop the cork and Rory pours.
“When I came to Ireland,” Lark begins, looking into our eyes one by one as she speaks from the heart, “I never thought my life would change quite this—”
Aunt Sharon bursts back into the suite waving sprigs of juniper and a lighter. “I almost forgot! I read about this Celticsmoke-cleansing practice called ‘saining.’ The parallels between it and Native American sage smudging are fascinating—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I throw a hand up to halt her before she can step farther inside. First she barges in, interrupting Lark’s toast. Now she wants to light things on fire? “Put down the Zippo and back away from the tulle.”
Her brows furrow. “Really?”
I place a hand on my hip. The universal signal fortry me. No way was I about to let Lark’s wedding dress go up in flames moments before the ceremony thanks to some dubiously appropriated ritual.
My mom is in the doorway behind Aunt Sharon, watching this unfold without helping me try to reason with her sister. Probably because she knows how infuriating it feels.
“It’s fine. Right, Lark?” Sharon asks over my shoulder.
The rest of the bridal party looks uncomfortable. Lark says, “I think this is a non-smoking room.”
“How would they know?”
“Perhaps the smell of smoke,” Anvi replies.
