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Daughters Of The Bride(93)

By:Susan Mallery

A bit? Sienna stood and held the dress in front of her. It was at least eight sizes too large. It was also about six inches too short.

“You are tall,” Linda mused. “That could be a problem.”

So was the fact that the dress was ugly. Wasn’t the engagement ring enough? Why was she being punished?

“Did you wear this on your wedding day?” Sienna asked.

“Goodness no. I wanted something new. But you’ll like this, I’m sure.”

Sienna looked at David, who shrugged.

“We’ll consider it,” he promised. “But Sienna needs to make her own choice when it comes to her dress.”

“Of course,” Linda said. “Still, I’m sure she’ll also want to please her husband-to-be. Isn’t that right, dear?”

“More than words can say,” Sienna murmured before letting the dress sink back into the suitcase. “I’m going to get some coffee. Is the pot on?”

David nodded.

Sienna escaped to the kitchen, where she clutched the counter and told herself to keep breathing. There was no way in hell she was wearing that ugly dress. Even if she loved it, what would they do about it being too short? And what was with Linda’s obsession with her height?

Before she could do any more mental ranting, her future mother-in-law joined her. Sienna quickly pulled a mug from the cupboard, then forced herself to smile as she asked, “Would you like coffee, too, Linda?”

“I’m fine, dear.” Linda waited while she poured. “David’s father and I are so pleased he’s found someone to make him happy. A good marriage is a blessing—don’t you agree?”

“I do.”

“David tells me you’ve been engaged before and it didn’t work out. You’re not going to run out on him, are you?”

Talk about cutting to the heart of the matter, she thought. “Of course not. David is a great guy. I’m lucky to have him.”

“That’s what I thought.” Linda smiled. “I understand you work for a nonprofit and that you’re raising money to buy a bungalow. Is that right?”

The change in subject was confusing, but sure. “We are. We provide housing for women escaping an abusive relationship. It helps if they have a secure place to settle that’s some distance from where they were.”

“That makes sense. David’s father and I want you to know that we’ll be happy to contribute to your organization. After the wedding. The check will be enough to make sure the purchase can go through.”

Sienna got the milk out of the refrigerator, then poured a large splash into her mug. She stirred while she tried to figure out what to say.

Why on earth did David’s mother feel she had to offer a bribe? How could Sienna tell her no thanks without sounding ungracious? And shouldn’t she accept the check on behalf of The Helping Store? That was kind of her job. Not that Seth would expect her to sell herself in the name of raising funds. But if she was going to marry David anyway, did it matter?

She supposed that was what it came down to. Was she going to marry David? Because one broken engagement could happen to anyone, and two, well, they could be explained, but three was more than was normal. It wasn’t so much that people would talk, as how breaking this engagement would make a statement about her. But what was the alternative? To get married so people didn’t talk?

“You’re very generous,” she told Linda. “Thank you.”

Her future mother-in-law beamed. “I knew I was going to like you.”

“I feel exactly the same way.”

As Sienna sipped her coffee, she wondered if they were both lying, or just her.



Central casting couldn’t have done a better job putting together the perfect boy band, Quinn thought as the members of And Then arrived at his bungalow with Wayne on their heels. Bryan, the lead singer, was African American, Peter, the drummer, was blond and blue-eyed and Collins was mixed race leaning toward Asian. They were all close to six feet tall, lean and fit and good-looking enough to get girls across the world screaming every time they walked into a room.

He’d been interested in them because they were brilliant enough to make him overlook his usual band aversion, but the “it” factor sure didn’t hurt. The contrast between their prettiness and Wayne’s slightly bulldog appearance made him grin.

“Wayne bought us a house,” Peter said proudly.

“I didn’t buy you a house,” Wayne corrected. “I rented you a house.” He glanced at Quinn. “A vacation rental. I tripled the damage deposit.”

“We’re cool,” Bryan said. “We’re not going to trash the place.”