Something About You (FBI/US Attorney #1)(72)
“He better not be. That’ll look terrible on the wedding video.”
The two women shared a laugh, and Amy inhaled excitedly. “So? Want to help me get into my dress?”
Cameron nodded. “You bet.”
“WHAT’S WITH AGENTS O’Donnell and Rawlings? Why couldn’t we just bring Jack with us?” Cameron asked as she followed Amy outside. The two FBI agents walked a few paces behind them.
“Because I consider Jack a wedding guest, and you are the only guest who gets the sneak preview. Besides, Jack needed a few minutes to get ready for the wedding.”
Cameron stepped gingerly in her silver heels off the walkway and onto a white fabric runner. She followed Amy across the lawn to the enormous white domed tent that had been set up on a hill overlooking the bay.
Cameron took small, careful steps in her bridesmaid dress, although there probably wasn’t much need to do so. The dress was fitted but had a slit on one side at her calf that made it easier to walk. Over the last eight months, the one part of Amy’s pickiness that she didn’t mind in the least had been her selection of the maid of honor dress—the same color and material as the bridesmaid dresses Melanie and Jolene were wearing, but different in style. Handpicked just for her, Amy had said. And when she’d said next that the dress was fuchsia, Cameron had nearly handed over her maid of honor badge right there.
Then she’d seen the dress Amy had chosen for her. Halter-style and pretty from the front, but that was nothing compared to the back.
Or, rather, the fact that there wasn’t any back to the dress.
After that, Cameron had shut her mouth and vowed to never question Amy’s judgment in anything bridal-related again.
“Are you sure you should be out here in your dress?” Cameron the Dutiful Maid of Honor asked Amy nervously. “What if you trip and get a grass stain on it or something?” Back when they’d gone dress shopping, she’d nearly choked at the price of the one Amy had chosen, a blush and ivory strapless taffeta Carolina Herrera with intricate ruffle detailing worthy of a nineteenth-century ball gown.
Amy shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll just have to deal with it.”
Cameron blinked. “Okay. Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
Amy laughed as they came to the end of the runner. She waited as Agent Rawlings stepped into the tent to check things out. When he nodded, she grabbed Cameron’s hand. “So when guests step inside the tent through this main entrance here”—she pulled Cameron inside—“they’ll see this.”
For a moment, Cameron was speechless.
It was breathtaking. There simply was no other way to describe it. They stood at the entrance of the tent, facing the altar. The fabric runner continued on, becoming a white center aisle across the grass that divided the silver and white Versailles chairs guests would sit on. Scattered across the runner were fuchsia and red rose petals and multihued leaves upon which Amy and the bridesmaids would walk. Along the aisle, all the way to the altar, were tall pillar candles that glowed softly. The altar itself was a site to behold, lit elegantly with additional white and silver candles and adorned with more red and fuschsia roses than Cameron had ever seen.
The most striking feature, however, was the thousands of tiny silver lights arranged in elegant tiers across the top of the tent. At night, she imagined, it would look just like a starlit sky.
Cameron stepped farther into the tent, taking it all in.
“And we’ll have a harpist here at the entranceway, to play music as the guests take their seats,” Amy was saying. “The ceremony is at six thirty, which will be right at sunset. Afterward, while we take our pictures and the guests have cocktails and appetizers back at that gazebo we passed, they’ll set up the tables for the reception. The string quartet will be over there for the ceremony, which is where the band will go for the reception. They’ll set up a dance floor over here . . . Oh, did I mention the heat lamps? See—hidden along the perimeter there? We had a hell of a time figuring out what to do with all the electric cords . . .”
Amy paused and looked anxiously at Cameron. “You haven’t said anything. Do you think it’s too much?”
Cameron shook her head. “No. You did it, Amy. It really is the most perfect wedding ever.”
Amy smiled. “We used to come here every Labor Day weekend when I was a kid. I think I was nine years old the first time. I knew, even then, that this was the place I wanted to get married.”
They both turned at the sound of a displeased voice coming up the path behind them.
“I told Amy she could have twenty minutes with you guys,” Jack was saying to Agents O’Donnell and Rawlings, who stood attentively at the entrance to the tent. “It’s been nearly twenty-five minutes and I—”
Cameron looked over her shoulder just as Jack stalked into the tent. He got his first glimpse of the back of her dress. Or lack thereof.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
“Wow.”
His eyes lingered on her for another moment before he turned to Amy, gesturing. “This place looks great, Amy. You did one hell of a job.”
Amy grinned. “Nice recovery, Jack.”
Cameron walked over and touched Jack’s face, unable to resist. “You shaved.” She took in the classically handsome chiseled features he’d been hiding underneath the scruff, as well as how incredible he looked in his dark gray suit. It should’ve been illegal for a man to walk around like that without some sort of permit.