Eric snatched the box out of Jace’s arms and headed in Rebekah’s direction. Her eyes widened, and she slipped back into the dressing room, pretending she hadn’t been eavesdropping.
“Do you know how hard it is to hold a giant box while on a motorcycle?” Jace complained. “The wind kept catching it, and I almost wiped out three times.”
“Not my fault you’re an idiot. You should have borrowed Aggie’s car.” Eric spoke just outside the dressing room door.
“You didn’t tell me the thing was so fucking huge.”
“I didn’t know.”
A sudden knock on the door made Rebekah jump.
“Yes?” Rebekah said, trying to sound nonchalant even though her heart was hammering out a rapid staccato.
“I have something for you to try on.”
“What is it?”
“A dress.”
“Where did you get it?” she asked.
“Open the door.”
“I’m in my underwear. Remember?”
“Turn around, dude,” Eric said to Jace. “He’s not looking, Reb. Open the door.”
She eased the door open. Eric beamed a smile at her, shoved the giant box into her arms, and then closed the door behind her. She set the box on the floor and stared down at it. The oversized box was shockingly familiar.
“Eric?” she said, covering her lips with a trembling hand.
“Does it make you happy?”
“Eric? How did you get this?” She didn’t have to open it to know what was inside.
“I asked your mom if she had something you could wear and sent Jace to your parents’ house to get it.”
She gnawed on her lips, knowing those tears she’d just gotten under control were going to start falling again the second she glimpsed her mother’s wedding gown, which was undoubtedly nestled inside. She’d seen it a hundred times as a girl and had dreamed of getting married in a fairy-tale church wedding to a handsome prince in that beautiful sentimental dress. Well, the church would be a courthouse and her prince was a tattooed metal drummer with a crazy hairstyle and no manners, but this day was definitely her dream come true.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Hurry, baby,” he said. “We’re going to be late. Jace is being a slowpoke today.”
“It’s a miracle I didn’t crash,” Jace said.
She heard several thuds as a punching match ensued between the two friends.
Rebekah lifted the lid from the box and pulled the dress out, shaking it and smoothing the wrinkles with her hands. Seeing it didn’t trigger the tears she’d expected; instead, her emotions took a completely unexpected trajectory. Rebekah beamed at the dress, her heart fluttering with joy, and hugged the garment to her chest. She put it on over her head and stared at herself in the mirror. She looked like a bride. Eric’s bride. She couldn’t help but smile even more broadly.
“Perfect, perfect, perfect,” she said, hugging the loose bodice to her chest and doing a happy dance. She opened the dressing room door and crushed Jace in a huge and hasty hug for risking his life to bring the gown to her before grabbing Eric by the arm and tugging him into the dressing room. He stared at her with his mouth agape.
“Oh my God, baby. You look amazing.”
She touched her fingertips to her lips and nodded, too choked up to speak.
“Did I do good?” he asked.
She nodded again and tried to swallow her happiness. It settled somewhere over her heart and swelled in her breast.
Her words came out all breathless as she forced them through the knot in her throat. “You did wonderful, Eric. I’m overjoyed that you did this, that you thought of this and made it happen. It never occurred to me to wear my mother’s dress today.” She touched his jaw. “This means so much to me. You mean so much to me.”
He smiled, his eyes uncommonly shiny with moisture. “I’m glad,” he said, a breathless hitch in his own voice. “On both counts.”
She pecked him on the lips and then turned her back to him. “Button me?”
His fingers trembled against her skin as he fastened the long row of pearl buttons up the center of her back.
“You two better hurry—Brian says they’re ready,” Jace called through the dressing room door.
“Dude,” Eric yelled at Jace. “Shut up!”
“Ready for what?” Rebekah asked, peering over her shoulder. “What are you up to, Eric Sticks?”
“Nothing,” he said, working his way up the row of buttons more quickly.
“Eric…”
He huffed out a breath. “You made my birthday special for me, so I’m trying to make your wedding day special for you. Stop asking questions and deal with it.”
She chuckled. “Consider it dealt with.”
She stopped pestering him about his surprise, though her mind was racing with possibilities, and she held still so he could finish buttoning her gown. She watched him in the mirror, too enamored with the look of concentration on his face, and the devilish tongue pressed against his upper lip, to take note of her transformation into a bride. This was a far different scene from what they’d shared in this dressing room mirror the first time, but she felt even closer to him this time. Not sexually closer, but him helping her dress was infinitely intimate.
“This thing is going to be hell to get off of you tonight, isn’t it?” he said as he finished up with the last few buttons.
“I’m sure we’ll figure out a work-around.”
“Done!” he said and tagged her bare shoulder before lifting both hands in a sign of victory.
“A new record,” she said as she gathered the wide embroidered skirt in both hands to turn toward the door. The dress style was fairly simple. Her shoulders were bare except for the slender straps just thick enough to cover her bra straps. A band of satin several inches wide completely circled the dress at the level of her collar bones, continuing around her upper arms and back. The rest of the bodice was fitted to the waist, and the A-line skirt continued to the floor and trailed into a long train behind her. The only embellishments to the humble style were the pearl buttons at her back, the beautiful floral embroidery work that decorated the matte satin, and a delicate trim along the hem of the skirt and train. No lace. No bows. No ruffles. Just elegance
Before she could turn the knob to exit the dressing room, Eric covered her hand with his.
“Okay, time to get you back out of that dress.”
“What? What’s wrong with it?” She smoothed her hand over the fabric looking for the tragic flaw she’d apparently missed. If he said it looked hideous, she’d likely pull a Cleopatra or a Juliet and end it all right then.
“There is no way I’ll be able to concentrate on anything but my dick with you looking that beautiful.”
She breathed a sigh of relief and slapped at him. “Stop goofing around, Eric Sticks.”
“She thinks I’m joking,” he said to his reflection.
She laughed and opened the dressing room door.
Jace glanced up from his cellphone, and his jaw dropped.
“Wow,” he said. “You look amazing.”
Which earned him another unwanted hug from Rebekah and a thunk in the forehead from Eric.
Eric glanced at the clock and went pale. “When did it get so late?”
“When you were seeing the bride in her dress before the ceremony,” Jace said. “That’s bad luck, you know.”
“I’m currently the luckiest motherfucker on the planet. I’m not worried about some lame superstition.”
Jace blinked at him and shook his head. “Okay, that’s a first. First you deviate from your ‘dye your weird hair a different ugly color every forty-nine days’ routine, and now this?”
“I always wondered why you dye it every forty-nine days,” Rebekah said. “Sixty-nine seems a more likely number for Eric Half-Porn-Star/Half-Rock-Star Sticks to base a superstition around.”
Eric grinned, probably thinking of sixty-nines past.
“While six
ty-nine might result in two people getting lucky, seven has always been my lucky number.”
Rebekah’s brow furrowed. “There’s no seven in forty-nine,” she said.
“There are seven sevens in forty-nine. Which makes it the luckiest number in existence.”
“That’s exactly why I’m so surprised you’ve stopped caring about your luck,” Jace said.
“I used my lifetime supply to win the girl,” Eric said. “Now that I have everything I want, I don’t need luck anymore.”
Rebekah melted at his declaration. Jace gagged and pantomimed shoving his finger down his throat. Eric checked out the clock and grabbed Rebekah’s hand.
“Is everyone there already?” Eric asked Jace as they raced toward the exit. “Thanks for letting us use your store!” he called to the proprietor on his way out the door. “We’ll come back again soon.”
“Welcome to Malachi’s Cos…” the man murmured in his sleep.
“You might want to empty out the trash in the dressing room,” Eric added. “Just saying.”
Rebekah felt her face go warm as she thought about all those used tissues and wet wipes they’d placed in the trash.
“They’re still waiting on Trey,” Jace said when they stepped outside. “But I think he’s on his way.”