Page 63 of Bossy Bride: Emma and Jesse

A whole crew bustles around me, helping me put on the corset lingerie, tying me up tight, but not too tight. These girls really know what they’re doing.

But what do I expect? They are professional bridesmaids, I guess.

I put the garters and stocking on, thinking that Mr. Boston is really gonna get a neat little treat when he finally gets to lift my dress up afterward. Then they help me step into the gown.

Because that’s what this is. Not a dress, a gown. With more underskirts than I’d prefer, but when they spin me around after hooking up all the buttons in the back, and I see myself in the mirror—holy shit, yes. Yes! This is what Emma Dumas, the Bossy Bride, should look like!

But I only have a few moments to appreciate myself in the mirror before the music starts playing somewhere outside and everyone starts chattering away in Italian.

I figure this is my cue.

It’s time to get married.

I let them bustle me outside and back into the courtyard. Then they grab my hands and we move forward as a team towards the chapel.

And Vinnie was right. The chapel is gorgeous. And that’s just the outside of it. Its white walls with artfully placed patches of crumbling plaster make it look like something built hundreds of years ago. It has quaint wooden shutters painted a pale blue that matches the sky above us. The steps are a wide, gently sloping half circle leading up to the double front doors.

The sweet scent of peonies and roses—in yellow and peach—fills the air as I follow them up the steps and stand in the doorway.

The music changes and the Bride’s March begins. And I am desperate—simply desperate—to see past all of my bridesmaids and get a peek at my handsome, charming, perfect groom.

The ladies shuffle around and pair off, then they start their walk. The little flower girl hops in front of me like this is her big moment, not mine.

An older man appears on my right. He’s dressed in a very nice black tux. He says something in Italian to me and offers me his arm.

Damn. Fingers went all out. He got me a stand-in father.

But… I have to admit, I really do wish it was my real father escorting me down the aisle.

He says a few words that I interpret as, Are you ready?

I nod. And then we begin to walk.

That’s when I look up at the altar and see Jesse Boston in a fancy black and gray tux in contrasting colors—wearing a top hat!—hands folded in front of him, and grinning at me like… Yup, babe. Fourth time really is the charm.

He looks like a billion Boston bucks.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - JESSE

When the wedding music starts and the fake bridesmaids start lining up at the chapel door, it all becomes real. And even though this is the fourth time today Emma and I have been through the start of a wedding, this is the first time that I get proper butterflies.

The rollercoaster wedding wasn’t even ours. It was fun to be on the ride and I guess if we’d been the real bride and groom, that sick nervous feeling I had at the top of the first hill would’ve counted as butterflies. But it wasn’t our wedding and so that feeling was just the anticipation of the wild ride to come.

Which, now that I think back on it, could be interpreted literally.

The pirate wedding wasn’t a wedding but a show and if I had known it was a show, I’d have been properly nervous about it. But we had no clue what was happening. It kinda pissed me off when I realized it was a scam and we were not even going to get married at the end, but looking back on it now—hell, I was kind of badass swinging on those ropes trying to save Emma from all those hot, shirtless pirate dudes.

The skydiving wedding did give me butterflies, but not in a I’m-about-to-marry-the-love-of-my-life way. More of a I’m-gonna-die-in-the-next-thirty-seconds way.

This wedding though? This is how it’s done. As soon as we arrived and she was whisked off one way, and I was dragged off another, it was different. These fake Italian family members are really invested in this wedding. I have six groomsmen. All my age, all pretty good-looking dudes. And now that I see the bridesmaids coming down the aisle, I’m confident our wedding pictures will be amazing. I’m talking wedding planner brochure kind of amazing. I would not be surprised if Fingers uses our ceremony photographs to sell this Shotgun Wedding package in the future.

I spent most of the day second-guessing our spur-of-the-moment decision to elope in Vegas, but I’m pretty satisfied now.

Of course, that has a lot to do with the groom treatment I got while Emma was off getting ready. All of my groomsmen were very determined that I enjoy all the things waiting for me in the little groom cottage.

It was set up like a gentleman’s study. Think dark paneled walls, leather chairs and couches, a polished bar with every kind of top-shelf alcohol you can think of. They even had cigars.

I did puff a cigar for a little bit, just trying to relax after our crazy day. Of course, I didn’t drink, but that’s OK. They did enough of that for me.