“I’m sorry. I can’t believe I’m crying.” Myrna drew away and dabbed at her eyes, feeling like a complete ass for getting so emotional over a stupid dress.
“Happens all the time,” Carla assured her. She smiled broadly. “Are you wearing it out, then?”
“I don’t want him to see me in it yet.”
Brian was sitting just outside the dressing room waiting for her.
“Do you have someone to help you with the zipper?”
She supposed she could ask one of the guys to help her on the bus. “I’ll figure something out.”
She turned back to the mirror and ran her hands down the rumpled satin bodice.
The white dress was form fitting from breast to hip; the skirt was loose and long and gathered on one side by a decorative design embroidered in silver thread. The hem just brushed the floor. She turned to examine the back, which had a simple train that extended a few feet behind her. The row of pearl buttons that hid the back zipper was a lovely bonus that ended in another design embroidered in silver that bunched the train just below her rump. She’d wanted to look beautiful for Brian when he took her as his wife and, in this dress, she felt beautiful. She held her arms out and shook her hips side to side, watching the skirt sway enticingly. Perfect. The dress was perfect.
“Did you find anything yet?” Brian called from outside the dressing room door. “It’s getting late, sweetheart. Just pick something.”
“Just pick something,” Carla said and rolled her eyes. “Men just don’t get it.”
But Myrna knew when he saw her in this dress, he’d get it. Because the sap was far more sentimental than she was.
“I think I found something suitable,” Myrna called to her eager fiancé. “I’ll be out as soon as I take it off.”
“I want to see it.” The door handle rattled, but it was locked.
“You’ll have to wait,” Myrna said. “I want it to be a surprise.”
Chapter Four
Brian paced up and down the aisle of Sinners’ tour bus. His four band mates watched him as if they were spectators at Wimbledon. He paused before the closed door at the end of the corridor and listened for sounds of Myrna moving inside the bedroom. Silence assaulted his ears. She had to be in there. There was no escaping the bedroom. The window was too small, and he’d have noticed if she’d tried to sneak past him.
Brian couldn’t wait to see her in her dress. Couldn’t wait to see her, dress or no dress. But even though he willed it¸ the doorknob didn’t turn. The door didn’t open. His woman didn’t appear, leap into his arms, and kiss him senseless. Not yet. What was taking her so long?
Trey had helped her zip herself into the garment ages ago. Well, maybe it had only been twenty minutes ago, but it felt like ages, especially since Trey had made a big show about how gorgeous she looked as he’d left her alone in the bedroom to fix her hair or whatever was taking her an eternity.
Brian wrapped the rope of chain that hung from his belt loop around one finger and jangled it repeatedly. His pre-concert jitters had nothing on these pre-wedding jitters. The soles of his feet were cold, as if ice water filled his boots. At least pacing kept his mind off the turbulence in his stomach. Sort of. He turned and headed back up the aisle toward the front of the bus, moving past the bathroom, the bunks stacked on each side of the corridor, and the dining table.
Like a parking garage gate, an arm dropped in front of him. Brian drew to a halt and lifted a questioning brow at his best friend. His best man. His musical soul mate—rhythm guitarist Trey Mills.
“Will you sit down?” Trey said. “You’re driving me insane.”
“Can’t help it. I’m freaking out,” Brian said.
Eric stopped tapping his drumsticks on the tabletop and glanced up at him. “Why? You’re not having second thoughts, are you? Because if you are, Myrna’s gonna need a lot of consoling for her broken heart.” Eric grinned, looking entirely too pleased with the idea. “I think I’ll go check on her.”
When he started to climb out of the booth, Brian sat beside him and shoved him up against the wall to prevent him from trying to console Myrna, who needed no consoling. If anyone needed consoling, it would be him. And Eric would not be the one he turned to.
“I’m not having second thoughts,” Brian said. “I think maybe she is.”
“She’s not.” Sed’s deep voice sounded just behind Brian’s left shoulder. “She’s happy. With you. I’m not sure why, exactly, when she could have had me...”
Brian snapped his head up to glare at Sed, and Sed chuckled.
“Easy, Sinclair.” Sed shoved his shoulder. “Your prize is safe. I’m just fucking with you.”
Brian wasn’t so sure. Sed had a way with women. Brian’s women. And Sed had been moping all day about his ex-fiancée. The one who had left and ripped his heart out. The one he’d seen the night before for the first time in two years. The one who caused grown men to fight burly bouncers for reasons still not entirely clear. Sed might be trying to play it cool, but Brian knew better. Jessica had wrecked the man and until Sed let her go for good, he wasn’t ever going to get out of his romantic slump. Or stop imposing that romantic slump on those around him.
“So what are you going to say to her?” Jace asked.
Brian glanced across the table at their bass player. Jace had been on edge all day. The youngest member of the band checked the time again, before briefly meeting Brian’s eyes. Something was going on with Jace, not that he’d ever share what it was. But he was acting weird even for Jace.
Perplexed, Brian said, “Say to her?” He had absolutely nothing nice to say to Jessica Chase.
“Your vows,” Jace clarified. “They’re kind of important.”
Oh. He’d meant that her. The important one.
“I don’t know,” Brian said. “I figured it would be best to wing it. So it’s more sincere.”
“Wrong,” Trey said. “As nervous as you are now, how do you think you’re going to feel during the actual ceremony?”
The only thing Brian was nervous about was that the wedding might not take place. What was taking her so long to get ready?
“Do you still have the rings?” he asked Trey.
“Yes. I promise I didn’t hock them for beer money.”
“Let me see.”
Trey sighed and lifted his butt out of the bench seat so he could slide his hand into the front pocket of his jeans. He slid his hand deeper, a confused look on his face. “I’m sure they’re in here somewhere.”
Brian’s heart stuttered in his chest.
Trey checked his other pocket. “This is not good,” he said. “Maybe you need to check for me.” He held his pocket open in invitation.
“Stop fucking around, Trey.” Brian reached across the table and grabbed Trey around the neck.
Trey’s pained outrush of breath gave Brian pause. He’d forgotten about Trey’s head injury. They’d all gotten into that little fight at the strip club the night before and were suffering various afflictions. Perhaps Brian had gotten off easy with his two black eyes. At least he didn’t have a huge knot on the back of his head.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Trey closed his eyes and lifted a finger at Brian. After a moment, he opened his eyes. “Yeah. It comes and goes.”
“I still think we need to take him to a hospital,” Sed said.
“Brian’s getting married today,” Trey said.
“So?”
“I’m the best man.”
“We’ll go after the wedding, then.”
“We have a concert.”
“And?” Sed’s look of warning would have sent most men running, but Trey just shook his head in annoyance.
“Dare will rip off my junk and feed it to jackals if we miss this performance,” Trey said.
Sinners just so happened to be opening for Dare’s band, Exodus End, at Las Vegas’s Mandalay Bay in about four hours.
Eric burst out laughing. “Where’s he going to find a jackal
?”
“The zoo. How the hell should I know? He’s Dare. He has connections.”
If Trey needed a doctor, Brian didn’t want him to put off getting treatment for any reason. Not even the much anticipated wedding that he and Myrna had been planning for two entire days. “Myrna and I could postpone—”