Page 84 of Sundown Somewhere

“Most brides are too afraid, even after the wedding. Which, I can understand. They did spend thousands of dollars. But seriously, what else are you going to do with it?”

I shrug, not having an answer for that. Hence why we’re here. Although, when Willa suggested this, she made it sound a lot more commonplace than Meredith Sweet of Sweetheart Photography is leading me to believe in this moment. And as much as I trust my sister, right now I think this stranger might have one up on her.

“Thank you again for doing this,” I say, trying to fill the awkward space. “And really, I’ll pay for your time.”

“Psssh.” She waves me off, giving me a look that tells me she wouldn’t dream of accepting my money. “Happy to be here. And after what happened to Dolly, I’m thrilled to be a part of something that can help her put all of that behind her. She deserves to be happy.”

She deserves the world…

“And here she is now,” Meredith adds, nodding toward the cloud of dust moving our way. She gives me another nod, then walks away, leaving me to stand and watch, my nerves kicking into high gear again.

Petite, with dark curls, Meredith is what my mama would politely describe as “svelte.” While I’d simply say she’s in desperate need of a cheeseburger—or three. She’s also exactly the type that, until recently, I would have taken home from the bar on any given weekend night. Something that Dolly had been quick to point out after hiring her.

“She’s just your type,” she’d told me while sliding a plate full of steak and potatoes in front of me. “She’s sassy, and funny, and food is her love language, so you know she’s good people.”

Watching the photographer now, as she opens Dolly’s car door, the two of them squealing and hugging each other, I can see why my best friend thought that. If only she knew how wrong she was.

“Okay, Hux, spill,” Dolly demands, pulling away from Meredith. “What are we doing all the way out here on this far corner of the Hayes estate, and why is Meredith here?”

I smirk, impishness filling my veins, wondering how long I can drag this out. How riled up I can get her.

“Did you bring it?”

“My wedding dress?”

I nod, waiting for her to try and put it together. Crossing her arms, she cocks a hip to the side, her own sass bubbling up. The move also pushes her glorious boobs even higher, stealing my attention for a second, a move I’m pretty sure she planned, but I’m on to her. I don’t give in.

“I did.”

“Put it on.”

“Why?”

“Thought you trusted me.”

She sashays across the open field, closing the space between us in three steps. All her confidence and bravado falls away the second she’s in front of me though, our toes touching, her hands resting gently on my hips. Without her saying a word, I can feel her insecurity. Her unsteadiness.

And my heart breaks.

“Doll,” I whisper, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“I do trust you. It’s just that…” She swallows hard, blinking slowly, her eyes glassy as she fights back emotion. “The last time I wore this dress, things didn’t end so well…”

Her voice is small, barely above a whisper. Almost inaudible. If I wasn’t listening carefully, I might have missed it over the sound of the breeze. But there is no mistaking her words. There is also no missing the pain in them.

Or the way it slices right through me.

Because I’m an idiot.

Fuck. I should have known. Should have taken the time to think about how putting on that dress again might make her feel. But I didn’t. And that was seriously fucking stupid of me.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” I tell her, yanking her into me. I hold her close, wishing I could absorb all her pain, all her worry, and make it melt away. “You don’t want to put that dress on ever again, then you don’t have to. I’m a guy, so don’t actually quote me on this, but I don’t think there are rules to this whole trash the dress thing. Pretty sure if all you wanted to do is light it on fire and dance around it naked, that would be allowed.”

Actually, I’d really like to have those pictures, now that I think about it…

“That’s what we’re doing?” Dolly looks up at me, then over her shoulder to Meredith. She relaxes in my arms, leaning against me, her muscles loosening as she exhales. “A trash the dress session?”

“That was the intent. Give you a chance to wear it, ruin it, and then be done with it.”