Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
He looked good.
Really good.
And it was then that I realized that my dress matched the bridesmaids’ dresses in color. Which meant that Casten had told me to choose the red because it matched him.
I also vaguely wondered why he was in the wedding party at all.
CeeCee and Rhea weren’t.
They were both sitting up at the front where the mother of the bride would normally sit.
They were both in different colored strapless dresses that flattered each of their shapes perfectly.
I looked down at my own dress, wondering if my cleavage was inappropriate for meeting a man’s mother.
Would she think I was a hoochie?
“Here she comes,” a man at my side huffed. “In the same dress she married me in.”
I blinked, turning to study the man, then the woman coming down the aisle.
They’d been married?
“Well, it is a tradition,” the woman at his side snorted. “You know that. My sister was never one to not follow traditions.”
An ex and her sister?
Just what was I getting into here?
The little flower girl passed by, wearing a dress in the same crimson shade as the bridesmaids, and tossed out white petals that disappeared on the long white rug that lined the proverbial ‘aisle.’
She was cute. She had long black hair that was down to her waist, a cute little bowtie mouth, and the prettiest gray eyes I’d ever seen.
So pretty and intense, in fact, that they reminded me of Casten’s eyes.
Everybody stood, blocking my view of the little girl, and I turned and stood, watching and listening as the song changed to some hoity-toity tune with harps in it.
My eyes widened as I got my first glimpse of the bride.
Casten’s mother was beautiful. Very beautiful.
So beautiful, in fact, that she didn’t resemble a mother of a man who was at least thirty years old.
She didn’t look a day over forty, if that, in a beautiful, white, flowing gown with a train trailing behind her at least six feet long.
It was a gorgeous dress with a plunging neckline, and suddenly I didn’t feel so bad about wearing a dress that exposed the top half of my breasts, since Casten’s mother’s dress exposed the tops and sides of hers.
“She looks just as good as the day I married her thirty-five years ago,” the man continued.
So the man at my side was most likely Casten’s father.
He didn’t look old enough, either. Nor did he look anything like Casten.
CeeCee, on the other hand, I could see the resemblance, now that I was looking for it.
“You know when Cecelia asked to wear the dress, Debra told her no, right?” the man asked the woman.
“I was there when she asked. CeeCee asked me if she thought her mother would say yes, and I told her yes. I’d never seen CeeCee so devastated to be told no before,” Auntie, as I’d dubbed her in my mind, added. “It may be a famous dress, but it’s ridiculous that she’s worn it to four weddings. Doesn’t that seem emasculating?”
I thought so, but who was I to judge?
Nor was my opinion asked for.
“It’s not that special, I don’t even know what the big deal about it is,” the man remarked, who I’d dubbed as ‘Daddy.’ “I bought that dress because it was supposedly worn by Dolly Parton, and I thought it’d be a funny gag gift! She turned it into a freakin’ weapon by wearing it.”
I sure had chosen a good place to sit!
I listened as they gave me more and more dirty details, and suddenly I was on the fence about Casten’s mother ‘Debra.’
The way these two talked, you would think she was the devil who hated her kids.
And by the time the wedding was over, I was already feeling bad for the poor man who’d just said ‘I do.’
I rushed away, hurrying to the bathroom again, the moment the bride and groom passed.
And my day only got worse when I got into the bathroom.
I was just slipping my dress back down over my hips when the door to the bathroom burst open, and a giggling moan followed in its wake.
“Right here,” a woman’s husky voice panted. “We’re going to do it right the hell here.”
My eyes widened as I moved until I could see out the crack of the stall door and saw a very masculine ass. An extremely familiar masculine ass. I should know, I’d been admiring that same masculine ass from afar for a while now.
“Turn around and bend over,” Casten said.
Chapter 9
Coffee- the decider of whether or not I’ll use my powers for good or evil.
-Coffee Cup
Tasha
My heart plummeted as I realized what was about to happen.
What did happen.
Almost.
Hell, I couldn’t really tell because of the angle…but I could hear the sounds…and I wasn’t an innocent.
All I knew was that I heard Casten’s belt release, the purple shirttails untucked from his pants, then a bunch of other sounds that I was sure I would never be able to get out of my fucking brain again for as long as I lived.