Charlotte
Our beautiful farmhouse has been turned into a busy wedding venue. No matter how simple we said we wanted our wedding to be, the decorations and guest list spiraled out of control.
This morning, Trinity, Serena, and Mercy turned our bedroom into my bridal suit. Marcel was sent packing to Carter’s loft to get ready.
Serena has me perched on a bench in the nook of our bay window where she said she had perfect natural lighting to work with. I can’t help my gaze from straying to all the activity going on outside.
“Look up, Charlotte,” Serena reminds me.
She dabs and pats something cool but sticky all around my eyes. There’s a soft clickety-clack and she snaps open a plastic box full of tiny colorful rhinestones.
“What are you doing to me?”
“Trust the process, Charlotte,” she murmurs, carefully selecting a stone and placing it on the tip of some metal poke-y-looking device.
I close my eyes and let her have her way with my face. I’ve never seen her makeup looking anything less than flawless so hopefully she can recreate the same magic for me.
“Thank you so much, Serena. I know the timing is, uh, precarious.” I nod to her still-dainty baby bump. The woman’s due to give birth soon and somehow managed to maintain her cute, earth mother pregnant silhouette, while I already feel like a circus bear.
“Not yet.” She presses her hand to her stomach. “He’s still got some baking to do. And Gray hasn’t finished the nursery.”
“Yikes. We haven’t even gotten started on a nursery yet.” I glance at our bedroom door. Twins mean we’re going to need more room.
“I hope my brother appreciates all the effort,” Heidi says from the couch where she’s nursing the newest member of the family. “All he’s doing is showering, maybe running a comb through his hair, and getting dressed.”
Mercy bites her lip and closes her eyes. “And he’ll look damn fine doing it.”
“That he will,” I agree.
“There. Perfect.” Serena stands back and studies my face.
“Wow,” Mercy breathes out, the two of them studying me like I’m a butterfly pinned to velvet. Makes sense. My stomach won’t stop fluttering like a thousand butterflies turned loose. “Now that’s a glam wedding look,” Mercy pronounces.
Serena finally lets me turn and look in the lighted mirror.
“Oh my God.” Gone are the circles under my eyes. Serena managed to give me an almost ethereal glow. Above a set of fluffy false lashes glued to my eyelids, a row of tiny clear rhinestones line my lashes, sweeping into a glittering but elegant wing. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re beautiful,” she says softly. “Congratulations, Charlotte.”
“Thank you.”
“Let’s get started on your hair,” Swan says, hefting a big black kit onto the window seat.
Someone knocks on the bedroom door.
“Who is it?” Mercy yells.
“Just me.” Shelby quickly opens the door a crack. “Are ya decent?”
“More or less.” I wave her inside with a flick of my wrist.
“Your brother’s downstairs, fixin’ to give ya something,” she says.
“Give me something?”
Shelby shrugs. “I didn’t ask.”
“I’ll text him and tell him to come up when I’m done with your hair,” Swan promises. She pulls out her phone and quickly taps out a message, then shoves it in her pocket. “What do you think about sweeping some of your hair back, so we can show off your pretty eyes, but leaving the rest long, loose, and curly?”
“Perfect.”
When Swan’s close to finishing, Heidi steps out with the baby and returns a few minutes later with Carter.
“Hey, girls,” Heidi says, grabbing everyone’s attention. She jerks her head toward the door.
“I’m still in my bathrobe,” I remind Heidi.
“Hope’s coming up to help you with your dress,” Carter says.
“What’s up?” I ask Carter when we’re alone.
“You look pretty,” he says in a thick voice.
“Don’t you dare cry.” I move from the window to the bed, patting the space next to me. “How’s Marcel?”
“Antsy.” He fidgets and runs his fingers over a slick black portfolio in his hands. “Murphy challenged him to an ax-throwing contest.”
“He what?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, they’re lumberjacking it up in your backyard.”
Nothing those two do surprises me anymore. “What’s that?” I nod to the portfolio he’s clutching.
He finally sits next to me and slowly passes the folder into my hands. “I made this for you.”
“Something from my favorite artist on my wedding day?” Excitement pushes my voice up a few octaves. “Gimmie.”
“It’s a multi-part gift.”
Eager but worried I’ll wrinkle it, I carefully pull the thick paper from the sleeve. Vibrant colors immediately grab my attention, then the details come into focus. A skull with coins over its eyes wearing a crown of flowers. Rays of sunshine illuminate the background. Majestic. Hopeful.
“Carter,” I breathe out. “It’s beautiful.”
“I can not tattoo ‘property of Teller’ on you, Charlotte. I can’t.” He sticks out his tongue in an extra-yuck face. “But—if you like this, I’ll ink it for you.”
“Really?” I squeal. “I love it. It’s perfect. It incorporates Marcel’s patch, his role in the club, and his name for me all into one brilliantly beautiful piece of art.” I sit forward and hug him. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”
“I felt bad that I gave you a blanket no when you asked if I’d do a piece for you.” He lifts his hand and roughs it over his already tousled hair. “I know gifts shouldn’t come with conditions. But this one does.”
“I can’t get it inked on my lower back?” I guess.
“Well, that too.”
“Okay, what?”
“Teller has to get one too.”
“Matching tattoos, huh? I’m not sure if he has any free skin available.”
He scrunches his face into a yuck-frown. “He has a spot and I gotta tell you, inspecting your husband’s body was really low on my list of life priorities.”
I burst into laughter, squeezing my eyes shut so tight, one of my fake lashes sticks to my lower lash line. “Oh, crap.” I gently pry it loose. “I don’t want to ask Serena to fix that.”
“Sorry.”
“So, he was okay with you dictating his next tattoo, huh?”
He snort-laughs. “Yeah. He wants your name and anniversary too.”
“Wait, so he can get my name tattooed on him, but I can’t get his?”
He raises his hands in a helpless shrug. “I don’t make the rules, Sis.”
“So, is Rock throwing axes too?” I ask.
“No, he was supervising.” He hesitates. “I think asking him to walk you down the aisle means a lot to him. All things considered.”