Page 47 of Love and Other Trials
She batted her eyelashes at him. “I really like it when you go all naval commander with me. Should I say,yes sirtoo?”
He puffed out a laugh. “Maybe later. On three. One. Two. Three.”
With a flourish, he opened the door. Tricia stood on the porch, breathing hard, her strawberry blond hair as wild as Medusa’s snakes.
“Where’s Ariel? We have a crisis. I need her. Right now.”
Ariel came running. “What’s wrong, Tricia?”
“Tiffany can’t fit into her wedding dress,” she blurted out.
Shit. That can’t be good.
Dax stepped out of the way as Ariel rushed onto the porch. “I thought you were going to the beach. Never mind. What happened?”
“We don’t know!” Tricia wrenched her hands. “Tiffany decided she wanted to try it on before it went out for pressing and steaming. When it didn’t fit, she came running from the bridal cottage. We don’t know how this could have happened. She’s been working out. She’s been on a strict diet. No carbs or sweets.”
Dax uncharitably thought tequila clearly wasn’t on the list.
“Okay, we’ll figure something out.” Ariel spun around and looked weakly at him like she had no clue what to do.
“Maybe someone can alter it?” he suggested.
“Not if she can’t fit into it!” Tricia threw her hands up in the air. “It’s the first sign of doom, Ariel. Tiffany is beside herself.”
Okay, that he could help with. “Have you found Rob? He’s good in a crisis.”
Tricia gaped at him and threw her hair over her shoulder with a giant huff. “Rob cannot know about this! He’s not even supposed to see her in her wedding dress before the wedding.”
But if she couldn’t fit into it, he wouldn’t see her in it at all, would he? But that insight probably wouldn’t be welcome.
Ariel ran a hand over her brow. “Tricia, let me grab my wedding master. I’ll meet you.”
“We’re at the bridal cottage. Your old place.”
He couldn’t help but think it seemed fitting revenge for stealing it from her in the first place. Not that Dax wasn’t happy with how it had worked out, but boy, was he pissed at her sisters for the way they treated her. Especially since they leaned on her whenever there was a crisis.
Tricia ran off. Ariel rushed inside. “God, it’s happening again. I swear. I’m a fully functioning adult with common sense, but this kind of stuff makes me believe the wedding curse is real.”
She was breathing shallowly, so he held out his hands to her. “What can I do to help?”
She rubbed Sherlock’s head when he pressed his face to her side. “Can you watch Sherlock for me?”
“Happy to.”
“Thanks. God! What a disaster. Maybe we really do need garlic.”
She meant it as part of their ongoing joke, but hell, why not? “I’ll pick up every bulb I can find.”
A hoarse laugh sounded like it had been squeezed out of her throat. “You’ll laugh but I saw someone make garlic into a wedding wreath. They were Italian and talked about garlic being part of the heart of the home. Like that scene inIt’s a Wonderful Lifewhere Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed’s characters give their new tenants salt and bread to bless their homes. God, I’m not making any sense.”
Walking over to her, he put his hands on her shoulders. “Take a breath.”
Her inhale was as fierce as her exhale. “How are we supposed to get Tiffany into a dress that no longer fits?”
He patted her shoulder awkwardly. Like he knew. “You’ll figure something out. How about I pour you some coffee for the road?”
Her blue eyes were a little unfocused. Shock? Overthinking? Sherlock helped by nudging her. “Yes. Coffee. Maybe a tranquilizer for Tiffany. Just kidding. Okay, if I’m not back in two hours, pack up and run away, Stephan. Take Sherlock with you and go to Bali or something.”
