I remember getting a message from Journal Guy and thinking,Oh wow. He’s really coming to Big Bear. We’re actually going to meet. What if I don’t like him in person? What if he doesn’t like me? What if we do like each other and we have sex and it turns out I hate sex?! What if it turns out romantic love is a myth? A hoax? Or even worse, what if I fall in love with Journal Guy for real and he falls in love with me, but then at some point I do meet Holden Archer and I mean, of course I’ll fall in love with him too, and what if he falls in love with me?! I’ll have to choose between them! Or what if they decide they want to do a three-way thing with me and then they fall in love with each other?
In short, I got pretty stressed out.
Which is why I decided to pop open the bottle of Veuve Clicquot the owners of the cabin had left in the fridge. There was a handwritten note next to the bottle that saidWelcome! Happy New Year! Please enjoy this complimentary bottle of champagne!and I thought to myself,Thanks! Don’t mind if I do!And I didn’t want to add dishwashing to the list of things I had to do before leaving the cabin, so I just drank from the bottle.
And then I looked for a place to hang Shay’s garment bag. Which led me to open the closet in the bedroom. Which is where I found the most beautiful wedding dress I have ever seen. An ivory sparkly lace sleeveless ball gown with a beaded high neckline top and ruched, flouncy tulle skirt that was just made for twirling around in.
What was it doing here? I wondered.
Did the previous renters get married here and forget to take the wedding dress when they checked out?
Was this cabin used for a movie or photo shoot and the crew accidentally left it behind?
Is the owner of this cabin divorced and doesn’t want to get rid of her first wedding dress, but she also doesn’t want to keep it at the house she lives in with her current husband?
Or—did the Universe conjure this dress up using holiday magic as a way of saying,Hang in there, Piper Puckett! You’ll get your HEA even though some other crappy person who doesn’t deserve or even like Holden Everett Archer is going to bone him tonight.
When I picked up the hanger and took this stunning feat of design and needlework out of the closet, I could tell it would fit me. I could just tell. And I thought to myself,Well, why the fuck shouldn’t I do this one small thing for myself, to make myself feel good and pretty on New Year’s Eve?I deserved this.
How did I get the incredibly delicate hidden zipper zipped-up in the back all the way up to the back of my neck all by myself? I honestly have no idea. It was like highway hypnosis. I must have entered a trancelike state when I decided to say yes to this dress. I just know that I look fucking amazing in this gown, and even now, I have no regrets about putting it on.
I remember the music channel started playing “Dreams” by The Cranberries, and I thought,It’s a sign!And I danced around, barefoot and carefree, in this wedding gown. Sort of an interpretive dance, I guess you could say. Swaying around like a fairytale princess in her castle. Singing along to this wonderful song that has been in my head at some point throughout every day of my life for as long as I can remember. And I was taking very ladylike swigs from this bottle of champagne and really just loving life and looking forward to a time when I can share this life of mine with a special someone who may or may not be Journal Guy.
And I thought I was alone, and I was happy.
And nowthis.
“Wow.” Holden Archer is standing ten feet away from me, looking at me quizzically with his piercing azure-blue eyes. “You look really beautiful, but I feel a little underdressed…”
And I’m realizing…this person heard me orgasm while using a vibrator last night and he doesn’t even know it. Whatdoeshe know? That I’m one of many girls he saw at the airport in New York for a few seconds—what was that—yesterday? And now I’m here in a cabin at Big Bear where he’s supposed to be meeting Shay Nicholls? And I’m wearing a wedding dress? He must be so confused.
“I can explain,” I say, just as Holden says, “I have a lot of explaining to do.”
“This isn’t my wedding dress” is what I choose to say next. “I found it in the closet.”
“Okay. Well.” He holds his hand out toward me and says, “It looks really good on you.”
“Thank you.”
He slips one hand into the front pocket of his pants and points behind himself with the other hand, over his shoulder. “Shay gave me the key code for the front door, but it was unlocked.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“What time is it? It isn’t one yet, is it?” I gather up the tulle skirt with one hand and then put the bottle of champagne down on the coffee table on a coaster. It looks like I’ve only consumed about a quarter of the bottle, but boy, do I feel bubbly in my head! “I, um, I’m Shay’s assistant, Piper. Shay’s flight was delayed—did she tell you? I, uh, I didn’t think you’d be here yet… I have to…I have to go meet someone.”
“Yeah. Shay has been texting me about her flight delays.” He strokes his chin, furrowing his beautiful brow, and gosh, his eyebrows are really sexy and interesting and kind of fun. I don’t usually have an eyebrow thing, but I would be happy just to date one or both of his eyebrows. “I found out you’re Shay’s assistant yesterday, actually.”
“Oh.”Whaaaat?I concentrate on gathering up the tulle skirt into both of my hands, as if gathering my thoughts and feelings, so I don’t trip over them and fall flat on my face.
He combs the beautiful fingers of one of his beautiful, manly hands through his perfect chestnut-brown hair again, sighing before saying, “And I figured out yesterday that you’re the one who’s been texting me as Shay on Backroom. I just…don’t really understand why.”
Blink.
Blink, blink.
Blink.