Listen to Your Heart(37)

What’s funny is that I’m still not really doing anything. What the hell do I know about china patterns and wedding registries? So, I just watch Skye and wait for her face to light up. And that’s what I pick.

For someone who prefers to deal with the schedule instead of the finer details of the day, Skye certainly has her opinions about the ceremony. In the process, I’ve learned so much about her. Like me, she prefers small weddings to lavish affairs. She likes finger foods instead of formal, sit-down dinners, and—when it comes to the music—she’d rather have a rock band instead of an orchestra.

Skye’s low-key and chill and perfect for me in every single way imaginable.

There are moments when I catch her looking at me, and I feel it . . . that pulsating electricity that flows so naturally between us. Despite everything, it’s still there, like a dormant volcano just waiting to erupt. But there are other moments—like when she shows up at the appointment only to find me there—when I see the melancholy in her eyes. She’s a pro, so she hides it well, but I know how much I’m hurting her by continuing with this circus. For whatever reason, Lynsey is MIA, leaving her best friend to deal with me and my shit.

Again, it’s hard to complain, but the last thing I want to do is hurt her more than I already have.

While Jules remains adamant that the wedding is off, she has no problem sending me to one appointment after another. But today, I’m supposed to pick a wedding gown, and Lynsey, for once, is taking pity on her best friend and meeting me there. Still, it’s ridiculous. I mean, as the groom, shouldn’t this be the one appointment I’m allowed to skip?

There has to be a way I can get out of this.

“Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the dress?”

Juliana looks up from her phone. “Umm . . . I don’t know. I better ask.”

She types something.

“Who are you texting at seven o’clock in the morning?”

“Nobody.”

Then I hear a ping. Nobody my ass.

“Ah, okay. It’s only bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. Seeing the dress is just untraditional.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to be untraditional,” I mutter. “Don’t you have to try it on or something? This is stupid.”

To my enormous relief, she agrees. “You know what? You’re right. I guess this is one decision I can’t leave to you and you alone.”

“You’re all heart, Jules.”

I thank her for breakfast and grab my briefcase. I’m almost to the door when she tells me she’ll meet me at the dress shop at four o’clock.

“What? Why am I still going?”

“Because I want your opinion.”

“Since when do you care about my opinion?”

“Since now.”

I’m running late and don’t have time to argue with her anymore. At least she’s not making me go by myself.

“Whatever. Text me the address.”

She promises she will, and I head off to work.



At 3:45 sharp, I take a deep breath before making my way inside the bridal shop. Not surprisingly, the place is full of ruffles and lace and I have no business being here at all. Because I have no idea where to go, I head straight to the counter.

“May I help you?” the lady asks.

Suddenly, my cell vibrates in my pocket.

“Just a second.” I fish my phone out and check the message.

Can’t make it. Don’t leave. You and Lynsey pick whatever you want. ~J

What the hell? If Jules isn’t coming, there’s certainly no reason for me to stay. What do I know about wedding gowns?

“Sir?”

“Change of plans. Thanks, anyway.”

“Are you Caleb Lynch?”

“Yes?”

“I thought so,” she says with a smile. “I was given a very detailed description. She failed to tell me how adorable you are, but I’ll forgive her.”

“She . . . who?”

The woman walks around the counter and loops her arm through mine. “Lynsey. She says I’m to take very good care of you. My name’s Tina. Would you come with me?”

Tina leads me through aisles of wedding gowns. It’s like a Minnesota blizzard—nothing but white as far as the eye can see. Suddenly, the ruffled seas part, and I find myself surrounded by full-length mirrors that reach from ceiling to floor.

“Just make yourself comfortable,” she says, pointing toward a chair.

Because I don’t know what else to do, I sit down. I’m just getting ready to send Jules a text when I feel her.

Her.

Then I look up, and I see her.

Skye’s standing on a raised platform, wearing a strapless wedding gown and gazing at herself in the mirror.

She doesn’t see me, but I see her.

And I’m knocked breathless.

I’m a guy. I know nothing about wedding dresses, but I know this one was created just for Skye. It clings to her curves and cascades down to her feet. The gown shimmers under the lights, and that fact that I just used the word shimmers to describe a dress proves that I’ve completely lost what little sanity I have left.

It’s now replaced with fear . . . spine-tingling, gut-wrenching fear.

It won’t be today. It might not even be this year. But someday, Skye will walk down the aisle, wearing a dress like that, and smiling that smile that haunts my dreams. She’ll recite vows and pledge her life to some man.