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In five hours. I shake my head, realizing this is utter insanity, but I’ve never felt more alive.
Lauren drives me back to my cabin, and when she drops me off, my mind is racing with possibilities. I have enough samples of fabric that I can make do. With some extra lace that Marian stored up in the attic that Lauren just aired out, I can see a simple but elegant design shaping up in my head. Even though I’m working on the fly, rushing my way through an entire garment in the nick of time, I stick to it and don’t take a break. I’ll have lots of time to relax at the spa later, and tomorrow, I can’t see anyone expecting me to do anything but walk down the aisle to Sawyer.
Oh, Sawyer. I smile in the privacy of the cabin, so excited to hurl myself into this whirlwind of a marriage with him. It’s sudden and hectic, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
The sooner I’m his wife, the more complete I think we’ll both feel, and it has nothing to do with my money.
It’s just us. How we click and have ever since the moment we saw each other.
My fingers ache by the time I’m done, and I grin at the final product. With moments to spare, I try it on carefully and blink away the tears that come to my eyes as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I’ve created a simple dress of white satin with a fitted bodice and a flowing lace overlay; I love the way it flows around me, and I’m happy I could incorporate Marian’s attic find in my wedding dress.
I hear the girls come in, but I don’t leave the privacy of my bedroom yet. “I’m in here.”
“Are you ready to go?” Aubrey asks, yelling to be heard over the music I left playing in the living room.
“Yeah. Just uh, want to get your opinion on this little something I ‘whipped’ together.”
I exit, walking slowly to make sure I can catch each of their expressions. Like my whirlwind relationship with Sawyer, these women represent instantaneous bonds of friendship. It doesn’t matter that we haven’t known each other for long. I see it in the awe on their faces. I hear it in the gasps as I show them the dress. And Marian, the sweet woman, bursts into tears. She smiles through them—happy tears—and holds her arms out to hug me.
“You are a beautiful, darling bride, Claire. I’m so happy I found that lace for you.”
I lean in for her to press a kiss to my cheek and savor the love she showers on me. It’s a form of affection I’ve never received from my mother, and I want to savor this moment forever.
Creating a bridal gown for myself in the span of hours is a miracle.
Gaining these girls as true friends is another.
But tomorrow, I’ll have the best blessing in walking through that garden to make my vows to Sawyer.
Chapter 31
Sawyer
I stand outside the fitting rooms and check out the tux. It feels strange, like it’s not my reflection in the mirror that I’m staring at. I feel like I’m on the outside looking in, that it’s not me getting married tomorrow to the one and only Claire Rennard, but some other lucky man who’s deluded enough to think he deserves her.
She’s mine. With or without this wedding, Claire is irrefutably my woman, the only person I want to go home to. She’s the one, without a doubt. I want to wake up every morning seeing her smiling face and go to sleep with her cozying up against me.
We haven’t shared many nights together. She hasn’t even seen my freaking home yet. While it’s all so rushed and fast, I’m not scared about my connection to her.
But what if she has second thoughts? It’s just happening so fast that I can’t help but be nervous. This isn’t a case of being antsy or impatient. I’m not struggling inside with this worrying and fussing about if this is the right thing to do.
I face deep, gripping nerves that make my stomach tense and knot. I swallow, wishing I could loosen the tie, but I don’t want to annoy the tailor again. He gave me a stern look when I tugged at the strap around my neck in this monkey suit the first time. As he’s now sticking pins near my crotch as he figures out how to adjust the seams, I want him to be very careful and focused on where those sharp points are aimed.
“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Kevin remarks as he exits the dressing room in a similar tux.
The tailor flinches, causing me to go extremely still with those pins. Then, with a slow, deliberate glance up at us, as if checking for impending vomit to fall near him, he sighs and shakes his head. “Please stand still.”
I am. I shoot my brother a wry look. “I am not on the verge of puking.”
“Well, you look uneasy,” Jason says as he strides out confidently. He fusses with his tie as he steps onto the dais to my left while Kevin stands to my right.
How come you can mess with that tie and get away with it?
“I’m nervous,” I admit.
“That’s an understatement,” Jason quips. “You do look off.”
I look down at the tailor again and shake my head. “I’m fine,” I tell him, or all of them. As I stare back at myself, I sigh. “I just want everything to be perfect for Claire.”
