Page 70 of Holiday Unscripted

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“No.” He gets up to his feet and holds out his hand for me. I slide my hand in his as I stand up. He doesn’t let go of my hand as he takes a step back. “Okay, now I see all of you.” He gives me an up and down. “I was wrong.”

“Excuse me?” I say as he holds my hand up and spins me around so he can see the back of the dress.

“You don’t look beautiful,” he declares once I’m standing facing him, “you look breathtaking.”

I try not to look him in the eye while I blush, looking down at my shoes instead. The shoes that are the same burgundy color as the dress I’m wearing. He pulls me to him, the hand that was in mine is now wrapped around my waist. “I don’t think you are supposed to look better than the bride.”

“Well, it sucks for her, then,” I retort as I place my hand on his chest, and it rumbles under my hand from his laughter.

“We should get going,” he urges, “so we aren’t late.”

“I just have to put the final touches on,” I tell him as his hand moves from my waist and then down to my ass, where he squeezes it before he steps away.

“I’ll go let Whiskey out one more time.” He bends and I think he’s going to kiss my lips but instead he kisses my neck, exactly where my heartbeat is. “I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.” He turns and walks out the door, giving me a chance to catch my breath. I put my hand on my stomach and take a deep inhale. The softness of the velvet dress under my hand makes me look into the long mirror that is in the corner of the room. I wasn’t sure about the dress when I got it, but after seeing Nate’s eyes on me, I know it was the perfect choice. It’s long-sleeved, which I took into account in case she wanted to take pictures outside. It goes high to my neck and is tight all the way down until my knees, where it flares out in a mermaid style, but ends at my midcalf. I turn around to see the back that dips to the middle of my back. I snatch up my gold purse that is big enough to just fit my phone in it and my credit card. Even though there is no reason for me to even bring my credit card since I’ll be there with all my family.

I walk to the bathroom and pick up my pink perfume bottle, spraying a few times behind my ears and then two at my wrists before applying my lip gloss. My hair is parted down the middle and curled softly away from my face. The makeup is very minimal since I know I’ll be in full glam tomorrow. I turn off the light as I head to the stairs. I hold on to the railing as I walk down to the front door where Nate is waiting for me.

His hands are in his pockets as he watches every single move. “I’m going to have fun tonight,” he states when I get to the last step, “might not even make it up the steps.” He smirks. “Might have to fuck you against the door.”

The sound of my laughter echoes in the entranceway. “Good to know I have that to look forward to.”

He opens the door for me, holding out his hand for me to walk in front of him. I wait for him on the stoop to lock the door before I slide my hand in his and walk down the steps, watching my every step to gauge if it’s slippery. He walks to my side of the truck and opens it for me. I get on my tippy-toes and kiss the side of his jaw before I hold on to his hand and get in.

I watch him as he walks around the front of the truck, the lights from outside glowing around him. I can’t help but smile when he gets in. “What’s that look for?”

“Just thinking about what is going to happen when we get back home.” I say the words and then I want to correct myself. This isn’t home. It’s his home. I should have said your home.

He chuckles as he pulls out of the driveway and heads toward the reception area. The parking lot is full, of course, and we have to park almost at the entrance of the lot. He holds my hand as we walk up to the door and I have the need to pull it away from him, but I don’t want to. Even though if someone sees, they might be wondering why we are holding hands. Luckily for both of us, no one is outside.

He pulls the door open for me and I step in, seeing the crowd of people around the door. Joshua and Macy are right next to it, greeting their guests. “I’ve never seen a rehearsal dinner that has a hundred people,” I mumble to Nate, who now has his hand on my lower back.

“How are the two of you the last to arrive?” Joshua’s glare goes to me and then to Nate. “You’re the best man.”

“I don’t know if it matters,” I say, looking at them, “but the only ones who really have to be here are the two of you.” I point to them. “Unless someone is getting cold feet.” I look at Macy. “You need a place to escape, you can always come down under.”

Joshua pushes my shoulder. “Mom,” he throws over my shoulder, “she’s being mean to me and it’s my wedding day.”

“It’s not your wedding day,” I correct him, “it’s your pre-wedding day.” I look over at my mother, who comes to stand next to me and wrap an arm around my waist, smiling at me. “He’s becoming unbearable.”

Someone comes over with a headset on. “Okay, we can slowly get the show on the road.” She has short blonde hair that sits on her shoulders. “We can get everyone in place.”

“The last of them have arrived.” Joshua looks at us.

“Better late than never.” I look at the woman, who looks like I just kicked her.

“We don’t say anything negative,” she scolds, looking around. “We don’t put it in the universe.” She shakes her head and presses the side of her headpiece. “We have go time.”

“She sounds like she’s great under pressure,” I say, and my mother pinches my side. “Ouch.”

“Get into place,” she hisses at me, then looks at Nate. “You are so handsome, as always.”

“Okay, places, everyone,” the woman says, clapping her hands. “If you are part of the wedding party and are part of the bridal party, go over there.” She motions to the door. “If you are part of the groom’s, you go over there.” She points to the back.

“Here we go.” I look up at Nate, who smirks at me and slaps Joshua on the shoulder. “Let’s get you almost married.”

“Shit, the rings,” Joshua says, slapping his hand on his forehead. “I forgot them in the safe at my parents’ house.”

“I have them,” my mother assures. “Zack,” she calls for my father, who comes over holding a glass of scotch in his hand. “Are you drinking?”