Chapter Ten

“I think this might be a trap,” Ford said as he cautiously walked into the bridal shop.

Lexi had texted the address, along with instructions to turn off his radio, leave his beeper at home, and take the afternoon ALL THE WAY OFF!

Violet stepped onto the thick, creamy carpet he was probably already staining with his worn steel-toe boots. His maternal grandmother used to have a room like this. Look, don’t touch.

It’d been a long time since he’d thought of Grandma Cunningham or his mother. Ma was Dad’s second wife, and she’d left when Ford was nine. The original story was that she just went to visit Grandma for a while. And Ford had been glad she hadn’t taken him along. While his city-slicker cousins managed to remain as mute and immobile as statues, Ford failed with a capital F.

“What?” Violet bumped her shoulder into his. “Afraid some woman is going to leap out and demand you walk down the aisle with her?”

“I am now,” he said, having to summon the humor he’d come hardwired with.

A smile curved her peachy-pink lips. They had some kind of glossy stuff on them that glittered in the light beaming from the jeweled chandeliers.

Ford tucked his hands in his pockets, afraid to touch or move or even breathe. One thing was for sure—he didn’t belong here.

Violet moved farther into the space, in the direction of the plum-colored couch that faced a three-way mirror. A white pedestal with sparkly high heels sat atop it, and, in addition to curtained dressing rooms, a variety of wedding dresses hung from hangers along the walls. “A bridal shop, huh? I thought putting a jar of jerky in the center of a snare would be the best way to trap you.”

He took a reluctant step so she wouldn’t leave him in the dust. “Sounds like you nailed me pretty good.”

A giggle burst out of her. “There are so many things I could do with that statement, but this is a classy joint.”

Shock jolted him, the comment enough to taper his uneasiness. Now he wanted to hear the options, because it sounded like she might have a dirty mind in that pretty little head of hers.

Violet looped her elbow through his and patted his biceps. “Don’t worry. If there are any rabid brides who are clueless enough to search for a groom inside a bridal shop, I’ll protect you.”

“Ha-ha,” he said, while a voice in his head whispered yes, please.

Sunlight streamed across the carpet as the door swung open and Lexi and Addie walked inside. Lexi shifted her sunglasses to hold her blond curls like a headband. Addie shrunk in on herself a bit. Then she also jammed her hands in her pockets.

“You hearin’ Radiohead’s ‘Creep’ in your head?” he asked, and Murph nodded.

“The lyrics ‘I don’t belong here’ are blastin’ for sure. Same way they did when I came for the bridesmaids’ dress fitting with all of Lexi’s fancy-pants friends.”

“You two are being silly,” Lexi said. Violet simply continued to grin at him.

“What?” he asked her.

“Just recalling how you’ve used my vulnerable moments against me, coercing me into deals involving puppies and such.”

“Hey now,” he said, and she laughed, having way too much fun at his expense. “Those deals were mutually beneficial.”

A whole heap of mischief shone through her features as she leaned closer. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

A pint-sized blonde in a frilly black-and-white top and sky-high heels welcomed them in a refined southern accent.

Violet quickly stepped in front of him and threw an arm out as if the woman might attack. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, casting a wink over her shoulder. “I’ve got you. I won’t let her hurt you.”

“Smartass.” He flicked Violet’s dangly silver earring, enjoying the resulting tinkling noise.

The tiny woman rattled off a stream of facts in a high-pitched voice. Lexi responded in whatever language involved silk and tulle and dress styles.

“Can I get some of that protection?” Addie whispered to his sexy bodyguard.

Violet repositioned herself to cover them both, taking them by the arms and following Lexi as she and the woman headed for the rows of dresses.

Bridal Shop Employee beamed at the three of them before taking Violet’s hand. “You must be the bride.”

One corner of Violet’s mouth twitched, her smile turning superficial. “Actually, this is our bride.” She gestured to Addie.

“Oh.” The woman eyed her jeans and War Eagle T-shirt. “That’s right. A bit of a tomboy, correct?” Without waiting for confirmation, she charged on. “So, what styles and fabrics are you thinking? Tulle? Silk? Organza?”

“Yes?”

“It’s fine if you’re not sure. We occasionally get a bride like you.”

While she presumably didn’t mean it that way, the like you did come out sounding a pinch condescending. And the way Addie’s face fell made it clear she’d taken it as an insult.

Ford nudged her with his elbow. “You know what dress you should get, Murph? That one from the Guns N’ Roses ‘November Rain’ video. All super short in the front.”

Addie rolled her eyes. “You guys watched that video way, way too many times during our classic rock phase.”

“I’m lost,” Violet said, and Ford pulled out his phone. He found the image, and she made a sour face. “I guess I see the appeal to dudes—you can see her garter and…and.”

Ford waggled his eyebrows. “Ah yeah.”

Addie’s dark ponytail swung as she shook her head, but her cheery demeanor had returned, so mission accomplished. “That short skirt’s a hell no from me. And before you ask, that’s not going to be our song. The end of that video is devastating, not romantic.”

“Is there anything more romantic than a relationship that never got ruined by all the shit life throws at you?”

The raised eyebrow from Lexi conveyed this wasn’t a swearing type of a joint. Which solidified he didn’t belong in a place like this. Then she began searching through the sea of cream and white, the zing of sliding hangers filling the air.

Addie lifted the dress nearest her. “I like this. Simple yet elegant.”

Violet moved closer and flinched—clearly she didn’t have a poker face, so playing with her would be highly entertaining. “Um, that’s a slip. It goes underneath the gowns.”

“Oh,” Addie said. Her breaths came faster and faster, and was she… Oh boy, those were tears. Ford had never seen her cry before, and a vise clamped onto his lungs, twisting tighter and tighter. At least he had plenty of experience calming panic attacks.

Typically, he wouldn’t be scared that a person’s reaction might be to punch him, but he’d take a hit from Murph if it made her feel better. “Hey. It’s no big deal.”

No move to swing, so he added a back rub to the mix. “This wedding thing’s new to me, too. Let’s take some deep breaths. In…” He sucked in a lungful with her. “Out.”

They blew out uniform breaths.

“If you wanna wear a slip, I’ll take out anyone who says you can’t.”

Addie gave a half-laugh, half-sob. “There’ll be talk no matter what I do. I think that’s why I’m feeling the pressure, which is stupid. The entire town is just happy I’m gettin’ hitched. Forever I was the resident old maid, and everyone feared I’d end up alone.”

“If you need me to permanently move to town to fill that position,” Violet cut in, “I can.”

Lexi rushed over, and she and Ford made a Murph sandwich. “What’s wrong? Is it the shop? We can go to another.”

“It’s not the shop.” Addie slapped a hand over her face. “This is so embarrassing. I guess I care more than I realized. I want the wedding to be perfect for Tucker, even though he says it’ll be perfect because it’s him and me.

“But my mom and my nonna are debating every tiny thing and tugging me in opposite directions, and I’m overwhelmed, which makes no sense because poor Lexi is doing the majority of the planning.”

Now Ford was out of his league. Head wound, no problem. Dehydrated hiker, he had the drill down pat. Part of him wondered if an IV would help—not that he had one on him.

The urge to make it better swelled and swelled until his rib cage could hardly contain it.

Violet turned to the bridal shop consultant. “Can you give us a few?”

“Of course. I’ll get the champagne.” With a nod, the tiny woman on stilts was gone.

Ford followed Violet, guiding Addie to the couch and lowering her onto the velvety cushions.

“Do you want me to call Will?” Lexi asked. “Or Tucker or your mom?”

Addie’s eyes went wide, and Ford was about to attempt an “I’m all the man she needs right now” joke when Violet took control. “Can you find her a bottle of water? She’s probably dehydrated.”

Ford opened his mouth to argue she wasn’t showing signs of dehydration—not to mention Addie was a water peddler, constantly demanding her clients, football players, and their group drink more.

Violet caught his eye, though, and he understood there was a method to her madness.

A sense of purpose overtook Lexi’s expression. “I’ll be right back.”

Once Lexi left, the mood lightened, and Violet sat on Addie’s other side and patted her knee. “I know this whole thing is overwhelming. You play football, right?”

Addie nodded.

“Okay, so when it comes to the wedding, you’re the QB. Yeah, you decide a lot, but Ford, Lexi, and me, we’re your…” Violet glanced at him for help.

“I’m your left tackle, Lexi is your tight end, and Violet—”

“Is the coach. I’ve got a playbook, too.” After a reluctant beat, she dug into the bag she’d brought along and withdrew the battered-yet-still-glittery purple binder.

For such a tiny thing, it managed to send his blood pressure through the roof. Yet, he was also kinda turned on by Violet’s approach. Smart, breaking it down like that. Grounding Murph in the familiar.

“Remember that you’re the bride,” Violet continued. “The whole reason we’re here. That means you get what you want, and if you don’t know what that is, we’ll help you figure it out. That’s what good teams do. Mind if I…?” Violet motioned to the diamond ring adorning her finger. “Classic band, emerald cut.”

“Tucker insisted on getting a bigger diamond.” Under other circumstances, he’d mock the way Addie’s voice turned dreamy. “He thinks the football players will hit on me, so he wanted to ensure they saw it every time I taped up their knee or ankles or put them through PT exercises.”

Violet opened the binder to a page marked bridal gowns. A few of them had star stickers, and if Ford wasn’t afraid of the answer, he might ask what that meant. Assumedly, they were her favorites. “These might be more ornate than you’d wear, but if you see anything you like, let me know. Then we’ll narrow our options. Of course, you might want to try some other styles, just so you’re sure.”

“I’m sure that dresses have never been my thing.”

“They might have dressy pantsuits if you truly don’t want a dress.”

“My mom and my nonna might kill me twice if I went that route.” Addie turned to Ford, her wide eyes imploring him for advice he hadn’t a clue how to give.

“It’s your show, Murph.” A lightbulb went off. “And don’t worry about us mocking you for wearing a dress. We got that out when you were Lexi’s bridesmaid.”

“I heard that,” Lexi called, on her way over with a bottle.

“I wasn’t keepin’ it a secret,” he hollered back. “Truth be told, you make whatever you wear work, whether you’re gussied up or kicking ass on the field.”

“Aww, thanks, McGuire.” Addie turned her smile from him to Lexi as she handed her a bottle of water. “Thanks to Lexi’s wedding, I learned that I can rock a dress. I want to feel beautiful, and I’d like to stick to the more classic wedding gown thing.”

Addie gave the heels on the pedestal a dirty look. “Those torture contraptions, however, are a no go. If I can’t wear my comfy sneakers”—she lifted her foot, displaying her gel kicks—“I’d rather go barefoot.”

“I bet we can find an option that makes everyone happy,” Violet said. “But in the end, you decide which pass to throw.”

Relief and desire made an interesting cocktail, the kind that left him gratified. Not only had they calmed Addie down, Violet had used football analogies that managed to be both useful and superhot.

Ford stretched his arm and grazed Violet’s shoulder with the tips of his fingers.

And with Addie’s freak-out over, she began pointing at the different gowns, making comments that Violet and Lexi understood and he went along with—yay, teamwork.

The bridal consultant returned, and Violet rattled off terms Ford could hardly follow. Then she, the clerk, and Lexi headed toward the racks of dresses.

Ford resisted the urge to put his feet up on the pristine pedestal.

Addie slumped against the cushions and groaned. “I’m turning into a girl.”

“You’ll always be a dude in my eyes,” he said, hoping he was speaking the truth. While he kept telling himself not much would change, Addie had acted different since she and Tucker had gotten engaged.

“I care about the wedding stuff, though. I’m completely lost, but I want one day of feeling like a superstar. While also being comfy. And nothing too frilly, you know?”

“Totally. In fact, that’s what I think every time I open my drawers to get dressed.”

She laughed, and he laughed, too.

“The other day I teared up over not knowing which font to put on the invitations. Then I was like, who even am I? So I cried some more.” Addie rubbed a hand over her face. “It’s a big day, I get that. Since I’m not usually one to stress much, I didn’t think I’d get so emotional.”

Her spine went stick straight, and she tucked a leg underneath her as she faced him. “The rest of the gang can never know I had this meltdown. If I survive it, I’d die of embarrassment.”

“Takin’ it to my grave, I swear.” He held his hand to the square, like they used to do as kids. “Or may you hogtie me, throw me in a Bama cheerleading outfit, and parade me down Main Street.”

Ford placed his hand over hers. “You deserve an amazing wedding, Add.” He searched for the right words, ones that would calm her and retrieve the logical girl he’d been friends with forever. “You and Tucker are the real deal. You managed to work things out in spite of the ups and downs, and that’s worth celebrating.”

“Would you say it’s part of a full life, then?”

Ford cast her a sidelong glare. “Really? You’re goin’ there?”

“Just wondering.” She kicked off her sneakers. “Violet’s great, yeah?”

As expected, this store was full of traps. “Yeah.”

“After y’all left the table the other night, we agreed that she seemed funny and nice yet feisty enough to keep you in line.”

“I don’t need to be kept in line.”

“You keep on telling yourself that.”

Ford swallowed past a throat that suddenly felt too narrow. “She sure knows a lot about weddings. That’s what I’m having a hard time ignoring right now.”

“So? I’m fairly certain most women do. Have even dreamed of their own wedding and all that. Don’t make red flags out of molehills or whatever.” Addie hit him with her no-nonsense expression. “I just want you to be happy. The other night when you were playing pool, and even today, you’re happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.”

“Gear down, big shifter. Violet and I are just friends—and before you go and say so were you and Tucker, it’s different.”

The way Addie’s mouth snapped closed meant he’d been right.

“She’s sworn off men,” Ford said simply, although his insides rioted at the idea, and what the hell? Was he panicked she’d want to be with him or that she wouldn’t?

“Don’t tell Nonna Lucia. She’ll ask her if she’s a lesbian, same way she asked me last year in front of Tucker.”

“Sounds like your grandma, always leaping to play matchmaker.” Ford exhaled and ran his palms down his jeans. “It’s not a good time for me to get serious with someone, anyway. I’ve got puppies to train, and fire season is coming.” Come fall, there was usually a wildfire or two, and he always headed to help.

“That’s a cop-out and you know it. No time is ever ideal for a relationship or to fall in love and lose your mind a bit. You think Doris would accept that excuse?”

A band formed around his chest, so tight it hurt to breathe. Why did Addie insist on pushing? “Starting to regret telling you that story.”

“If you really never want me to mention it again, I won’t, but—”

“Then don’t,” he snapped. It’d come out harsher than he meant it to, but he wouldn’t take it back.

“But,” Addie said, her dogged nature showing its head, “it’s not doing you any favors, sitting at home every night, waiting for an emergency call to come in. You’ll drive yourself mad. Then I bet you feel guilty when one does, because you’ve been hoping for one, and it means someone’s in trouble.”

When did his best friend go and become a mind reader? He grunted in response, not wanting to admit she was right.

“I say this out of love, McGuire. Life’s too short. The longer you take to start living it, the more regrets you’ll end up with. You’ve never done anything half-assed before. Don’t choose now, with Violet, to start.”

…

Arms loaded with dresses, Violet paused next to one of the fitting rooms, observing the big dude on the couch and the bride-to-be. Both a skosh out of place, but she loved how open they were to this whole adventure.

Admittedly, wedding-dress shopping was akin to pouring lemon juice on an unhealed cut, but helping Addie narrow her options acted as a balm that minimized the sting.

While happy to help, Violet worried that every time she brought out her binder, she was shooting herself in the foot with Ford.

It should provide a sense of comfort and reinforce her willpower. After all, what guy—especially one like Ford—would willingly jump into a relationship with a woman obsessed with getting married?

Not that she was obsessed.

Not anymore, anyway.

Didn’t mean she couldn’t mourn the loss of the aforementioned dream. In an attempt to avoid letting sorrow take hold, she would concentrate on Addie, try not to concentrate too much on Ford, and no matter what, she would. Not. Cry.

“Time to try on the gowns,” the cheery bridal shop consultant said with a clap of her hands.

She, Lexi, and Violet hung the dresses inside the nearest fitting room.

Lexi posted herself next to the curtain in case Addie needed an assist, and with the bridal consultant there as well, Violet decided three was a crowd.

She plunked herself next to Ford to prepare for the montage. He propped his elbow on the back of the couch and settled his palm on the nape of her neck. “You okay?”

The brush of his callused fingertips bulldozed her raw emotions over the subject of matrimony, along with every thought in her head, and how did one go about breathing again? “Just peachy.”

“Thanks for your help.” He toyed with her hair, and goose bumps prickled her skin. “Told you I was unqualified.”

“You grounded her when she was beginning to panic. And honestly, I’d wonder about you if you were an expert on wedding dresses.”

As soon as she said the words, she wanted to pluck them out of the air. Maybe it was her paranoia that made her translate his tight smile into I’m concerned about how much you do know.

Her gut wrenched, her emotional scars nearing the surface once again.

“I’m coming out,” Addie called. “And if anyone laughs, they’ll get a black eye.”

“No one is going to laugh,” Lexi said, but she bit at her thumbnail.

The curtains opened with a whoosh, and then the swishing of fabric became the soundtrack as Addie exited the fitting room. Her tense shoulders and the stiff way she walked screamed discomfort.

Violet wasn’t sure if Addie’s unease came from not being used to dresses, disliking this particular gown, or if a stray pin was jabbing her through the yards upon yards of fabric.

“Is that a walk of shame wedding dress?” Ford asked. “Looks like you took off with Tucker’s sheets but added a sparkly”—he gestured to the side, where a beaded floral applique held up the skirt—“thingamabob old ladies wear to church.”

“Ford,” Lexi scolded, which saved Violet from doing so. Perhaps she should provide guidance on helpful feedback versus not-helpful comments.

Addie kicked aside the heels that’d been on the pedestal and took their place. “Broach is the word you’re looking for. And you’re not wrong. It’s basically a fancy toga.”

A gasp escaped the poor consultant, along with the designer’s name. While Violet never would’ve made the toga comparison, now she couldn’t unsee it.

The next gown consisted of a tight, strapless bodice covered in floral lace and flared to a gauzy skirt. Even if Lexi’s face hadn’t lit up, Violet would’ve guessed she picked it out. It would’ve been a nice fit for the blonde, but Violet didn’t think it was Addie’s style, regardless of not having a dressy style in general.

“It’s beautiful,” Lexi said.

Addie hooked her thumbs in the top and hiked it up, but then the waist didn’t sit right. “It’s too fancy for me. All the flowers, and I”—she repeated the bodice-lifting move—“feel like it’s gonna fall. And since I can read your mind, Lex, no, your bridesmaid dress didn’t fall off me and had a similar top, but this one is lower-cut and squeezes the girls harder than Tucker does.”

Snickers went around the room, save for the consultant, who seemed to be experiencing a bit of shock.

“I want to be comfortable sitting there in front of the town and most of the Auburn coaching staff.” Addie twisted the end of her ponytail around her finger. “Is a comfortable wedding dress even a thing?”

Violet stood and circled Addie, studying the dress from every angle. “Would you settle for semi-comfortable? We might even be able to hit mostly comfortable, although you’ll still need help to pee.”

“Lexi, I’ll let you handle those duties,” Ford said, and even the consultant smiled at that joke.

The next gown fit Addie like a glove. Also strapless; however, it landed snuggly at her arm pits and covered more cleavage. It nipped in at the waist, showing off Addie’s figure.

Ford cocked his head. “Did they forget to iron it? Why’s it so wrinkly?”

“It’s ruched.” Lexi fluffed the billowing silk skirt and let it drop, demonstrating how wide it flared.

Addie lifted the fabric to study it closer, displaying the fact that she still had on her yoga pants. “So, it’s the shar-pei of the dress world?”

Lexi sighed. “Seriously, you guys?”

Ford and Addie exchanged a glance, and then Ford said, “Next.”

They had that silent conversation thing down pat, and while it caused a pinch of jealousy, Violet’s admiration for their friendship overpowered it. She also appreciated that Ford would hop in and be the so-called bad guy when Addie didn’t want to hurt Lexi’s feelings.

To a certain extent, she had that kind of relationship with the Bridesmaid Crew—especially Leah and Amanda.

Even better, she and Maisy were getting there as well. They’d spent several evenings talking and laughing, and this afternoon, as Violet had been finishing up at the bakery, Maisy had asked, “Would you like me to wish you luck on resisting Ford? Or do you want me to encourage you to go for it?”

Violet had laughed and picked the first one.

With Ford’s thigh resting against hers, her resolve cried for help. She considered ignoring it and surrendering to the urge to rest her head on his shoulder.

Then Addie stepped out in a mermaid gown.

While Violet was happy to lend her expertise, she had her limits, so she’d steered clear of that particular style. Addie hadn’t mentioned liking them, anyway.

But that dress… Violet was tempted to slap a hand over Ford’s mouth before he said anything stupid, because Addie looked stunning. The fabric might be busier than the bride-to-be would’ve chosen herself, but the gown highlighted every one of her assets.

If you don’t stop holding your breath, you’re going to pass out.

Addie stepped onto the pedestal and spun, showing off the ruffles that began mid-thigh and cascaded into a court train.

Lexi once again beamed, and Violet couldn’t fault her for picking the dress. It was so close to the triple-starred dresses in her binder. In fact, she suspected it was from the same designer she’d followed for the past five years. She’d almost put a similar dress on hold last year, back when she still believed Benjamin’s someday promises.

“Damn, Murph. Who knew you had an ass like that? From a guy’s perspective, I approve. Shows off your figure, and I’ve always been an ass man.”

A light blush pinkened Addie’s cheeks before she pivoted to face the mirror.

Why did it sting that Ford approved of the dress Violet would’ve picked for herself?

Being in the bridal shop was messing with her head, fuzzying up her thoughts, and she hated that she couldn’t just be happy for Addie.

And she truly was. By just be happy, Violet more meant why did complicated emotions like agony and mourning come along for the ride?

It prompted thoughts of what else she’d lost. A future involving vows and babies and the knowledge that, in spite of her faults, someone loved her for her.

Someone chose her.

A fissure formed in her heart, as if proving there’d always be a piece missing, and she had to blink triple time to stick to her no-crying decree.

“I do think it’s beautiful,” Addie said. “But I look in the mirror and see…not me. It’s like peering at a stranger with my face, and I’m not sure what that means.”

Lexi circled her, cell phone out and snapping pictures. “You don’t have to decide right now. Keep it in mind as you try on the rest, and I’ll have these photos to help us compare.”

The following two gowns were a no go, and then Addie came out in a halter-top dress that made Ford say, “Whoa, Sarah Connor. That one shows how ripped your arms are.”

“Does it give off the impression that I’m going to be the one carrying Tucker down the aisle, though?”

They all swore it didn’t, and after debating over how lacy the bodice was, she added it to the maybe pile.

Finally, Addie came out with Violet’s number-one pick.

The tiniest bit of vertical ruching made up the pure white top. The dress flared around the upper thigh and ended in a puffed skirt that landed at calf height.

Violet wrung her hands, awaiting Ford and Addie’s jokes about grabbing the iron again.

Instead, Lexi sucked in a breath and Ford sat forward.

Addie stepped onto the pedestal and grinned at her reflection. Then she turned to face them and ran her hands down the skirt. “Well?”

During the many times Violet had been involved in this part of the process, there was just something different that happened when a bride-to-be put on the right dress. The air changed, as if it and everyone involved had been enchanted, and most of the commentary went silent, when you’d think it’d be the opposite.

“I’m gonna have to kick my own ass later for saying this, but that’s the one. You look…” Ford’s forehead creased as if he were searching the contents of his brain for the right word. “Like you, but pretty.”

Violet pinched his arm and widened her eyes at him. His statement about it being the one had caused a fluttery, tingly rush, but then he’d added that last part.

“Not that you’re not normally pretty. I just mean… Hell, I said it was the one. What more do you want?”

Addie laughed. “I get you. That’s how I feel. It’s like an upgraded, fancier version of me.”

“And I had this idea that you can take or leave…” Violet kicked off her scuffed purple Vans and placed them at Addie’s feet. “You could order yellow Chucks to match your colors. It’d also be super cute if your fiancé and the rest of the wedding party wore them, too. I’ve shot photos where people did that, and it’s insanely cute.”

Addie stepped into the Vans, remarking they were the same shoe size. Her grin stretched to a whole new level of joy as she studied her reflection. A euphoric haze filled the room and swelled inside of Violet, and she reached for her camera out of habit before remembering yet again that she no longer carried it everywhere.

Lexi already had her phone out, taking pictures, which would suffice.

After Addie returned to the fitting room to change into her regular clothes, Ford stood. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta take a leak.”

Violet began tidying up the dresses that’d been set aside. She paused on the mermaid-style one. Her heart knotted as she traced the intricate design on the bodice, the longing she’d claimed to be rid of rushing forward to out her.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help,” Lexi said to Violet once the consultant left to ring up Addie’s dress.

“Even though I told her she can wear Converse sneakers?”

“I forced her into heels for my wedding and still haven’t heard the end of it, so that’s a spot of genius. It fits her. You managed to pinpoint her style in a handful of minutes, which made me realize I’ve been asking all the wrong questions, thus the nonanswers.”

“I’ve done this seven times. I’m kinda an expert.”

Lexi slung one of the other gowns over her arm. “More than just playing bridesmaid or even taking photos. Considering the binder, I’m guessing you’ve planned a few weddings.”

“I did plan one.” Violet attempted to exhale her conflicted emotions over the subject and charge on. “Mine. My ex continually assured me we’d get married someday, but he didn’t actually mean it. In the end, he played me for the fool I was.”

Sympathy softened Lexi’s features. “I’ve been played before. It doesn’t mean you’re a fool.”

“I appreciate that, but I definitely felt like one when I found him with another woman at Maisy’s wedding. They tied the knot the same day I started that stupid fire in the bakery.”

Lexi put her hand on Violet’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Violet separated the mermaid gown from the others. “This was the dress I kept coming back to, no matter how much everything else changed. Over the past six months, I’ve rehashed our relationship way too many times, trying to find the signs I missed.”

Embracing her fanatical, binder-creating side, Violet draped the mermaid gown over herself and glanced in the mirror. Even if she hadn’t been indulging in too many sweets at the bakery, she would still require a larger size. “One time, when I goaded Benjamin to set a date so I could book the venue, he told me ‘I thought you wanted to lose twenty pounds before the wedding.’”

“That asshole!” Lexi slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oops. While I don’t stand by my colorful language, I stand by the sentiment.”

“In all fairness, I had told him that.”

“In all fairness, he’s still…” She leaned closer and whispered. “An asshole. One that obviously didn’t deserve you.”

Violet shrugged, as if it weren’t a big deal she’d lost her belief in finding that special someone.

So what are you doing letting yourself get swept up in sweet gestures from Ford?

Ford might be charming, funny, and a hero to boot.

The settling-down type, he was not.

Which was why, no matter how much she enjoyed spending time with Ford, she should raise her shields before she ended up hurt again.