I showed the paper to Parker, and his brows knit together in confusion. “Nevermind?”
“I don’t get it, either.”
“Never mind the letter?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea.”
It annoyed me and irritated me that I had no real answer and would never have one. It wasn’t like I could just pick up the phone and ask Damien what his note had meant.
So instead of worrying about it, I dipped my grilled cheese in my tomato soup and tried to figure out how the hell I was going to finish planning my wedding in the five days we had left.
I texted my dad after dinner to let him know that I’d received some correspondence that he should probably take a look at, and he texted back that he was on his way over. I was glad that he was coming to me, because I wasn’t in the mood to deal with my evil stepmother, and I wasn’t in the mood to be followed all the way there and back.
Parker opened the door to him less than thirty minutes later.
“From D?” my dad asked as he gave me a hug in greeting.
I nodded.
“You doing okay with everything?” he asked, his fingertips under my chin as he inspected my face.
“I’m fine.”
“You want to wait a few weeks on the wedding?”
I glanced over at Parker, who was standing behind my dad. His eyes met mine, and of all of the crazy, fucked up things happening, marrying Parker seemed to be the one thing I was absolutely certain about in my life.
“I don’t want to wait. I wish we could do it tomorrow.”
“Okay, CC. Whatever you want. You let me know what you need.”
“Your credit card for dress shopping tomorrow.”
He laughed. “Use the one I gave you. Find the right one. You know I don’t care about the cost.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I hugged him again.
“Have you thought about a wedding party?”
I shrugged as we walked into my family room. “I don’t really want one. I want you to walk me down the aisle, and then I want to marry Parker with the people we both love most in the world watching us. That’s it. I don’t want some huge, gaudy affair.” I paused, thinking of my dad’s last three weddings, and then I added, “No offense.”
He chuckled. “None taken.” He sat on my couch, and I sat on my favorite chair.
“I didn’t mean you.”
“So this correspondence from Damien?” he asked, effectively changing the subject.
I handed him the letter and watched as he read it.
Parker messed around in the kitchen, cleaning up our dinner dishes. He was trying to stay out of it, but he was staying near in case I needed him. It was just one more reason why I was marrying this man as soon as possible. He wasn’t sure what I needed, but he stayed close just in case.
“I don’t get it,” my dad said after he finished reading it the first time.
“Don’t get what?” I’d found it pretty self-explanatory.
“Was there anything else in there?”
I handed over the second note.
“Nevermind? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t get that part, either.”
“The last part of the letter doesn’t make sense, CC. The whole thing is written like he knew he’d be gone, but then the last couple of sentences sound different. ‘Something in the way you loved me will always remain in my heart. I’d tell you to come as you are, but it’s probably better if you stay away.’”
“What do you think it means?”
He shrugged, and I saw my own reflection in him. “I’m not sure. Do you mind if I take it to show George?”
My eyes snapped up to his. I didn’t want him to take the letters. I felt sentimental about them. They were my very last link to Damien, and allowing them to leave my possession felt wrong.
Clearly my eyes said everything, because my dad said, “If you’re not okay with that, I can take pictures of them instead.”
I nodded. “That would be okay.”
My dad pulled out his cell phone and snapped a bunch of pictures of the letter and the additional note. He stood. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to your wedding plans.”
Parker emerged from the kitchen.
“Can I talk to you a second in the hallway?” my dad asked him.
“More secrets?” I complained.
“Manly things. Father to future son-in-law,” my dad answered with a smile. I normally would’ve put up a fight or at least some resistance where I yelled about girl power. I hated secrets. Damien’s note to me had told me not to allow secrets.
But we had a wedding coming up. I was sure my dad and future husband had some things to work out. So I hugged him goodbye. Parker followed him into the hallway, and I read Damien’s letter one more time.
My dad was right. That last part of the letter didn’t make a whole lot of sense.
But I was too emotionally exhausted to attempt to figure out what it meant.
Parker came back a few minutes later and walked over to the chair where I was resting. He kissed the top of my head. “Need anything?”
“Just you.”
A small smile played at his lips. “Are you offering?”
I shrugged.
“I didn’t want to push you because I know we’ve got a lot going on, but I’m horny as fuck.”
I laughed. “Only you could turn me on with such eloquent words.”
He knelt in front of the chair and sat up on his knees so we were eye level. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips.
“Are you sure about this, Jimi?” His face was mere inches from mine, and I drank him in. My lips tasted his perfection. My nose inhaled his manly scent, the scent that had come to mean comfort and home. My eyes feasted on his gorgeous face. It held the anxiety of getting married in a few days while his fiancée was a hot mess of emotions. It held genuine adoration as his eyes met mine. It held soft lines around his eyes from laughter, and it held the scruff that tickled my lips when he kissed me. And despite its perfection, it only held a small fraction of the pieces that made me fall in love with him.
“I’m sure.” My voice was breathless, because when he was so close to me, little else mattered. All I knew was that I loved him with my whole being, and I needed to show him.
The short time span of life had been proven to me when my ex had been murdered at the tender age of only twenty-three.
And maybe the best way I could honor the memory of someone whose life had been cut short too early was to live my own life to the very fullest.
Parker’s warm hands reached under my t-shirt. He caressed my stomach gently, and his hands trailed up my torso. He was moving painfully slowly, but part of my new pledge to live life to the fullest meant living in every moment and enjoying it.
When his fingers pinched my nipples with force, I yelped. Parker was an expert at straddling the line between pleasure and pain. He leaned in to kiss me again, his hands working their magic on my breasts. I felt his palms, rough from playing guitar, followed by a soothing, tender stroke of his fingertips. Every different sensation seemed amplified because I was so completely tuned into my emotions.
He reached down to unbutton my jeans. He didn’t remove them. Instead, he just reached down into my pants and his fingers dove right into my pussy. He made quick work of fingering me, thrusting his fingers in and out, spreading the moisture over my clit and rubbing my body the only way he knew how. He was so attuned to what I needed, to what made my body tick, that it wasn’t long before his fingers threw me into a dizzying orgasm.
As I regained my normal breathing pattern, his eyes locked in on mine. He lowered my jeans slowly along with my panties, and then he freed his cock from the prison of his pants. He wasn’t gentle as his eyes stayed on mine and he shoved his cock into me. His arms held onto the arms of the chair where I was sitting. His thrusts were slow but forceful.
And as the man I was going to marry fucked me in the middle of m
y living room and I thought about how he was the last man with whom I would ever share this kind of intimacy, I tumbled headfirst into another shattering orgasm that perfectly punctuated my thoughts.
twenty-one
I must’ve tried on twenty gowns, and while they were all beautiful in their own ways, not one was perfect. Not one was “me.”
I had an idea of what I wanted, but I had to be honest with myself. The daughter of Gideon Price was going to be scrutinized on her wedding day.
I truly didn’t care about what anyone thought. The public could take it or leave it. What I did in my life, who I wore…frankly, none of it was anyone’s business. I was born to rock royalty, though, so I was thrust into a spotlight that I neither wanted nor liked.
And that meant, for reasons completely unknown to me, whatever I chose to wear on my wedding day would impact the fashion world.
I preferred my vintage t-shirts and jeans. I didn’t want the attention.
But it was my wedding day.
I wanted to be perfect, but not for the public or the media or the pictures.
I wanted to be perfect for Parker.
My appointment at the bridal boutique started with racks of dresses selected especially for me in my size. The shop owner, Camilla, showed me dress upon dress. I awkwardly chose the ones I found to be the prettiest while I tried not to insult the ones that I didn’t even want to try because they were so far away from who I was.
I was pretty sure my mom would have wanted to be there, but I had no idea when she was coming into town. I didn’t have a maid of honor, and my closest girlfriends were narrowed down to Virginia or Vanessa. I didn’t want to bother either of them for their opinions. On the one hand, Vanessa was still dealing with Keith’s attack. On the other hand, Virginia and Tim’s little flirtation was getting on my nerves. I didn’t particularly want her there with me for such an important occasion.
So I was bridal dress shopping solo with the exception of Bruno keeping watch near the door.
Solo, that is, until I saw a familiar warm face smiling back at me when I emerged from the fitting room.
“Kimmy!” I yelled.
She grinned as she stood to hug me.
I’d never expected to see Parker’s sister, but there she was in the flesh.
“I heard you might need some help picking out wedding gowns, and it just so happens that I’m in town.” She squeezed me, and it felt like a warm hug from my own sister. I’d always wanted one. While I’d only met Kimmy once, she already felt like family.
She pulled back and held my upper arms in her hands as she looked at the dress I was wearing. “That dress is gorgeous, but I’m telling you right now, it’s not the one.”
Camilla’s eyes narrowed in her direction, but Kimmy was right. It was beautiful, but I knew the second I put it on that it wasn’t the one for me.
Maybe I needed someone’s opinion after all. Having Kimmy there would make it a whole lot less awkward when I had to tell Camilla that I wasn’t interested in her gowns.
I headed back into the dressing room, a giddy smile on my face. I realized how lucky I was to have found Parker, but I had to admit that having his sister as part of the package was a pretty good deal.
Kimmy watched me try on five more gowns, and then she turned to the store owner. “Can you give us a minute?”
She nodded, and Kimmy whispered, “Maybe this isn’t even the right store for you. What do you think?”
I shrugged. “I need a dress. I’m getting married in five days.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to settle.”
I nodded.
“Why did you choose this store?”
“My dad recommended it.”
“Like dads know anything about wedding dresses,” she whined.
I laughed.
“He somehow knows the owner. She’s been very attentive. I just think I need something more…” I trailed off, not sure what I needed.
The problem was that these dresses were all the latest styles. They were fresh off the runway. My dad assumed that’s what all women wanted, and I should have been grateful.
But what I really wanted was a vintage gown. Vintage just fit me.
“Vintage?” Kimmy guessed, finishing my sentence.
“Vintage,” I confirmed.
“Do you have a designer in mind?”
I shook my head. “I’ve never been someone who cares about labels.”
“But…?” she asked, drawing out the word as if I had more to add. She barely knew me—we had only met twice now—but somehow she knew me well.
“But all eyes will be on the bride. And I don’t mean the guests we invite. I mean all eyes.”
“Do you care?”
“Not really, but I am representing my dad. You know?”
She nodded like she understood, even though she couldn’t have. No one could, really. She smiled warmly. “Let’s get out of here. Let me take you to lunch and we can figure out a game plan.”
At lunch, I learned that Kimmy was an interior designer who had an eye for fashion. She was elegant and chic, but she was down-to-earth and fun. She was the type of girl who I could see myself gossiping or laughing or crying with. A real, actual girlfriend. A real, actual sister.
After lunch, she said she had somewhere to take me. She didn’t know the streets of Los Angeles very well, so she had me drive while she navigated from the front seat.
We ended up at another bridal shop, but this one specialized in vintage dresses.
The first one I tried on was off the rack, but it was gorgeous. It was made of tulle and had a slip underneath. It had a simple v-neck, and the back mirrored the front. Small flowers and tiny white beads created an arabesque design. When I emerged from the dressing room to stand on a small platform in front of three full-length mirrors, I knew it was the dress for me before I even looked at my reflection.
The price tag was under three hundred dollars, a far cry from the first shop my dad had recommended.
I was pretty sure I’d known it was the one for me the moment I spotted it on the hanger.
I heard Kimmy’s gasp behind me.
“Oh my God! Yes, Roxy! That one! For sure, that one!”
I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror, and I had to admit that Kimmy was right.
This was the one.
I turned and looked from all angles. The three foot train behind me made me look somehow taller. The fabric was feminine against my skin. It fit like a dream. It was like someone made it for me and left it there. It wouldn’t even need alterations.
It was perfect.
Dresses are a lot like the man you’re going to marry.
When you know it’s right, you snap it up the second you realize it.
I paid for the gorgeous gown and some white undergarments to accompany it. I found a barrette made of crystals that would be perfect for any hair design, opting out of a veil that would take away from the intricate femininity of the gown, and I was good to go on my bridal wear.
While I was out for the afternoon with his sister, Parker was squaring away his own formal wear. With my dad’s credit card, the time factor became a complete non-issue. Anything could be done in a short timeframe for the right price.
As I drove Kimmy back to her rental car parked outside of the restaurant where we’d eaten lunch, I asked, “Do you have some place to stay?”
She shrugged. “I’ll get a hotel.”
“Don’t be silly. Stay with me.” I blurted it out without thinking. I didn’t take into consideration how Parker would feel about it, but I knew he’d love it. I found it funny that I’d invited his sister to my house so quickly, but it had taken me some time to open up enough to allow Parker into the very same place.
She giggled. “That’s a really kind offer, and don’t take this the wrong way, but no thanks.”
Despite her telling me not to take it the wrong way, I sort of did. “Why not?” I asked indignantly.
“Because I know
what goes on behind closed doors when people are engaged. That’s my brother, Roxy. No thanks.”
I laughed. She had a point. “Then at least let me pay for a hotel. Are you in town until the wedding?”
She nodded. “I head back to Chicago on Monday morning.”
“Come home with me now and we’ll book you something. Have you seen Parker yet since you’ve been here?”
She shook her head. “He texted me your location literally when I landed. I plugged it into GPS and here I am.”
I smiled. “I wonder if he’s done with his tux.”
I dialed his number, and a moment later we heard his voice through the speakers of my car. “Hey Jimi.” He sounded tired.
“Hey. Your sister is here with me.”
“Kimmy!” he yelled, a little perkiness back for a fleeting moment.
“PJ!” she yelled back.
“Welcome to California,” he said.
“Thanks! It’s so perfect here. It makes me wonder why I live in Chicago.”
“Then do what I’ve been telling you since I came out here,” Parker said.
She rolled her eyes at me. “We’ll see.”
“Are you siblings done talking so I can ask a question?” I finally interjected.
“That sounded like a question to me,” Parker answered, and he and Kimmy both laughed. It was my turn to roll my eyes.
“Did you get your tux?”
“Yep. On my way home. Did you find a dress?”
I smiled at his use of home. I knew he was talking about my place even though we didn’t live together. Well, technically. At least not yet. “Yep. We’ll be on our way in a little bit. Stay out of the guest room because that’s where my dress is going.”
Kimmy fiddled with her phone while we chatted.
“Okay, babe. Any other instructions?”
I pulled into the spot next to Kimmy’s. “Hold on, your sister is getting out of the car.”
I smile and waved as she shut the door, leaving Parker and me alone. “I have some more instructions for you.”
“Oh?” he asked.
“Tonight you are going to fuck me so hard that I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow.”
“Christ,” Parker muttered. “I think I can probably manage that.”
Vintage Volume Two Page 13