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I slammed the phone down, letting out a yell of frustration. Damian came sliding into the room, his eyes all frantic like perhaps Lucifer had shown up instead of me going all banshee because I couldn’t find a place that would book a midnight wedding.
“What’s wrong?”
“These stupid people don’t want to stay later than eleven at night and keep suggesting an earlier wedding. At this point, I’d settle for city hall, which of course, closes at five,” I snapped and waved my hand around like a damn princess.
It was as close to a true hissy fit as Damian had ever seen from me, and his lips twitched. The man was trying his damnedest not to laugh, but he was obviously losing the battle. Which aggravated me even more.
I went to lick my lips before I admonished him, but my tongue ran across my sharp incisors. Crap, my crazy was showing. I had transitioned into shadow form from all the burning irritation cascading through my blood.
He burst out laughing.
“Damn it, Damian, I’m trying to plan our wedding, and all you can do is laugh?”
“Would you like me to try to find a place?” he asked, curtailing his chuckles.
“Yes. That would be one less thing to deal with.”
“Any preferences of locations?”
“Outdoors. Preferably in some garden setting with a view. And we don’t need a reception, just a bottle of champagne for after the ceremony.”
He gave me a nod and turned to leave.
“And if the place has a photographer, that would be a bonus. We also need a minister and a couple of folks willing to act as witnesses.”
He paused at the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to run down to Las Vegas?”
“Yes. I don’t want to have a drive-through wedding,” I snapped. I didn’t. I wanted something worthy of forever, and Las Vegas was just not it. Besides, a Las Vegas wedding seemed cheap and tawdry, and more like something thrown together at the last minute. I wanted something more meaningful. Something put together with care.
Except I was failing miserably at this.
“Honey, the place doesn’t matter. The fact we say I do does.”
Men had no fricken’ clue. I glared at him.
He hurried out of the room to escape my wrath.
The wedding I had dreamed of as a kid involved a beach just as the sun kissed the horizon. That wasn’t happening. Not with the shadow virus running amok in my system. Sunshine would turn us both into a pile of ashes, and I was sure Damian would be none too pleased by that, not after waiting twenty-five hundred years for me to come along and steal his heart.
I sighed and opened anther web browser. After searching Denver bridal salons, only two offered hours past 6pm, and I snagged a 7:30 appointment at Emma and Grace Bridal Studio for the following Monday. Thankfully, it was early enough in March to allow us to get to Denver in time for the appointment. Any later in the year and I’d be screwed.
I prayed I’d be able to find a dress that didn’t need alterations, because I was sure the in-house seamstress probably worked bankers’ hours. Instead of harping on that possibility, I perused their dress offerings, trying to settle my frazzled nerves. There were quite a few that interested me, and I jotted them down on paper and just prayed they would have them onsite for me to try on. I wanted a dress that clearly stated I was the bride, and not one that could be confused with an evening gown. I also wanted a gown that would make Damian’s heart stop the minute I stepped within his line of sight.
Damian walked in the room and dropped a piece of paper on the desk. “We are booked at the Secret Garden on Saturday, May 5th for a midnight ceremony under the full moon. You have the bridal suite starting at 10 p.m. I figured two hours ought to be enough for hair and makeup, right?”
I nodded, dumbfounded.
“I also booked a photographer and a justice of the peace to perform the ceremony. Do you need me to do anything else?”
I stared at him, and then my gaze dropped to the paper before bouncing back to him. “How in the world did you get all that so quickly?”
He grinned. “Money talks,” he said and gave me a wink.
My brain ran down all the options for the ceremony. “Does the place have any music for me to walk down the aisle to?”
“I can ask when the curator sends the contract. He also said we could take a look at the venue any evening this week if we’d like. There are a couple of spots we can choose to hold the ceremony onsite. I told him it would have to be after 8 p.m., and he said that was fine as long as we give him a day’s notice.”
“Maybe we can go on Monday after my dress appointment? It might be later than eight though.”
“Why don’t we go a different night so you’re not rushed?”
That was why I loved the man. I smiled, thinking of how rushed I’d already be if the store wanted me out by eight. I just hoped they would let me stay later so I can try on the dresses I had jotted down.
“Tuesday?” I asked, and he gave me the thumbs up before he left the room.
I leaned back in the chair, staring after him. He just pulled off what I hadn’t been able to after hours of begging and pleading. I glanced at the paper and stared at the venue name. Secret Garden. That was one I just bypassed because I thought the website was cheesy and not well done.
I hoped it offered what I was looking for. I sighed, glancing at the dress list. I had a dozen dresses listed and I would have to narrow that down based on what I saw in the mirror. If they ran true, I might actually be able to wear it off the rack.