Seven Days: The Complete Story (41 page)

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Authors: Lindy Dale

Tags: #threesome, #lovers, #love triangle, #18, #romance novel, #new adult, #romance series

BOOK: Seven Days: The Complete Story
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Argh. Why is
he always the winner?

Nicholas rolls
over in the bed. His chest covers mine but he adeptly avoids my
bump. The pressure of his body makes it uncomfortable these days. I
twine my arms around his neck and nuzzle him. Tenderly, he sweeps a
strand of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear. He leans
close, his nose touching the tip of mine. His breath is warm and
comforting against my cheek. “You are absolutely insane, Sadie
Cooper. Totally whacked in the head. But you’re my little hormonal
nutcase and I can’t wait for the day I call you Mrs Lawson.”

I can’t wait
either.

“Funny you
should mention the wedding, I’ve been thinking about that.”

A strangled
groan leaves his lips. “You have too much time on your hands.
Clearly, I need to occupy your time more fully.” He nips my
bottom.

“Stop it, I’m
being serious.”

“So am I.” He
kisses me, deep and long to prove his point.

I push him
playfully away. “Not now. I want to tell you my idea.”

He sighs this
time. It’s long and exaggerated and I know he’s teasing. “What have
you been thinking, my love?”

“That we
should get married on the beach where we met. We could still have
the big reception your father wants at the resort in the Bay. The
the guests could book an overnight stay and nobody would have to
drive.” Having met Nicholas’ father, I’m happy to compromise on
what we first thought was going to be a small intimate wedding. If
he wants to invite the entire family, so be it, but Nicholas and I
will have the ceremony we want. “We could spend our wedding night
on the
Constance
. And you can sail me off into the sunset
for our honeymoon. What do you think?”

“I think I
love you even more.”

“So you like
the idea?”

“Love it. As
long as we get married before the baby is born. I’m not lugging our
little bundle of joy around on the yacht. I want both of my
treasures with their feet firmly on the ground for at least a month
after the birth. I need to have you where I can see you and keep an
eye on you.”

That’s sweet.
He’s being all protective again.


Awww
.
My hero.”

“Just call me
Superman.”

 

CHAPTER
FIVE

“It has to be
flowing and beachy.”

Emily and I
are sitting on a chaise in the middle of the most upmarket bridal
shop in town. She’s in bare feet and a tight fitting, ivory
coloured, beaded gown with a mermaid tail skirt. It hugs her body
to the top of her thighs then spills over the carpet. It’s so her…
if it were black.

“What about
this one?” The assistant, keen to help, has been rifling through a
selection of gowns suitable for pregnant brides. She holds up a
vintage gown with a huge skirt and a massive bow on the front. My
guess is that’s there to discreetly hide the ‘bump’.

Emily’s face
is one of appalled horror. “You’re kidding, right? Sadie’s pregnant
or did you not notice? We want her to look beautiful, not like a
jumping castle in side show alley.”

Blushing, the
assistant slides the dress away. She purses her lips in thought.
“So you want something more streamlined?”

“Well,
obviously not as fitted as mine,” Emily says and runs her hands
down her sides. “Or our girl look ridiculous in the photos. Nothing
too formal, either. No taffeta or heavy satin. You know what I
mean.”

I bite my lip,
stifling a titter. I have a feeling we may be about to become the
most demanding brides ever. But, oh, mega exciting though, to both
be dress shopping together.

The girl tries
again. This time the dress is white. I don’t mind white. It has a
low cut sweetheart neckline and wide shoulder straps that look like
they’re made for holding up very large pregnant boobs. It also has
layers of transparent ruffles and lace that look something like
curtains from the fifties. Before I can open my mouth, Emily throws
her arms into the air in disbelief.

“No.
Definitely not.” She takes an elongated breath. “Karen, darling. I
realise these are gowns that ‘other girls’— cue finger quotes—
might like but my girl Sadie is not ‘other girls’. She is marrying
Nicholas I’m-Too-Sexy-And-Rich-For-This-Universe Lawson. She needs
to have a dress that displays this. It can’t be poofy or
meringue-like. It can’t be over the top because as you can see our
Sadie is a simple yet stylish girl, despite the vibes she may be
throwing out today. It’s imperative this dress reflect the high
society expectations of these nuptials. And the wedding’s on a
freaking beach. Comprende?”

Our assistant
looks suitably chastised. “So, there’s no barrier to the budget
then?”

“Um,” I say.
“I don’t want anything too expensive.”

Emily elbows
me. “Nicholas is paying, honey bubble. Make the most of it.” She
swivels back to the girl. “Show us the best dresses. Within the
specified guidelines.”

Wow. This is a
bossy side of Emily I’ve not experienced for a while. She’s so
funny.

“Any
preference on colour?”

“No,” I say.
“As long as it suits my skin tone and hair, I’m fine.”

The sales girl
goes into another room and we sit for a while. Emily sips from the
glass of champagne while I sip my water. “It’s a pity you can’t
have this,” she says, raising her glass to me. “It’s super
nice.”

“I like your
dress.”

“It’s fab
isn’t it? I suppose I should get changed and then I can help you
pick out yours. Who’d have thought we’d both be getting married
this year? I’m so stoked.”

“I’m more
stoked that we’re friends again. I missed you. It would have been
heinous having to do this without you.”

“You would
have ended up in some ugly thing like that white maxi dress you
used to wear everywhere. Hashtag hideous.”

“I would not!”
I giggle. She’s right. I have no idea how to choose fancy dresses.
And that’s what this dress has to be. It has to be me, but still
have an air of sophistication that will make Nicholas proud. I want
our guests to think he’s made the right decision by marrying
me.

As Emily
disappears into the dressing room, the shop assistant reappears
with a few dresses from the other room. She hangs them on a huge
hook. They dangle on the ground, long swathes of plastic protecting
them. “I think these are more of what you’re looking for,” she
says, as she holds each one up. The first two are pretty. One is
empire line with georgette capped sleeves and a flower on the
front. It flows over her arm as she drapes it for me to admire. The
fabric looks soft and expensive. I could totally see myself
standing on the beach next to Nicholas in that.

“I like that
one,” I say. The girl puts it to the side for me to try on.

The second is
not my thing at all. Though it’s empire line again and strapless,
which I like, it’s got beading and the skirt is very heavy looking.
I don’t think it would suit a beach wedding.

Then she holds
out the last dress. “This one is the most expensive of the three,”
she says, like that’s going to make a difference. Nicholas said I
could have whatever I want. He gave me the platinum credit card.
Not that I thought I would spend an insane amount on a dress, not
until I saw this dress.

Oh, I am in
love. Literally.

It’s ivory
shot silk. It’s strapless which should impress Nicholas as he’ll
get to see more of my new boobs. It hangs simply from under the
bust and is sort of twisted at the cleavage. I can’t explain it but
it’s like something I envisage a Greek goddess would wear. One with
a golden wreath in her auburn hair. “That one!”

I leap to my
feet and head for the fitting room. I don’t need to try the others.
This is my dress, I can hear it calling to me. It’s telling me the
cost doesn’t matter, that Nicholas will wilt with desire when he
sees me in it, that it is perfection personified. We will be like
Jack and Rose on the bow of the
Titanic
as we sail off on
our yachting honeymoon. It’s absolutely perfect.

A couple of
minutes later, I’m standing on the dais in front of the mirror,
gazing at myself like I’ve morphed into a Victoria’s Secret model
in the change room when Emily sweep back the curtain of her
cubicle. She comes to stand in front of me. Her mouth falls open
and for once, I think she may actually be speechless.

“Oh. My. God.
Please tell me you are buying this dress.”

“I am buying
this dress.”

“It’s perfect.
Absolutely drop dead perfect. Nicholas is gonna come in his pants
when he sees you in this.”

Well, I sort
of hoped he’d come inside me, but whatever.

“You are so
gross,” I say.

“Hey, it’s why
we’re friends, right? You provide my filter.”

“Then turn the
thing on. You gave the sales girl a heart attack.”

Emily laughs
and apologises.

It’s nice to
have her back.

*****

 

I arrive home
from my shopping expedition excited and happy,

though we were gone so long I feel like we travelled
to Africa and back. The morning has been more than I could have
ever expected. It’s made me see things in a way I didn’t before.
Sure, I was over the moon about being engaged and planning the
wedding but now I can’t wait. I can’t wait to be Nicholas’ wife and
see his reaction to my dress. I can’t wait to change my name. I
can’t wait to hold our baby in my arms and make a little brother or
sister for him. I can’t, can’t wait.

I sneak into
the bedroom to hide my purchase.

I scored
the most adorable sandals to go with my dress and some cute
underwear that won’t make me look like a complete heifer, as long
as I don’t get any fatter. My dress is staying at the shop until
the week of the wedding in case it needs last minute alteration
but, I’m confident it will still fit fine. Remembering Nicholas
promised to help me finish addressing the invitations, I go in
search of him, finding him in the living room sitting at the dining
table. The invitations and guest list are stacked in a neat pile
next to the fruit bowl where I left them this morning. Nicholas,
however, has a large tumbler of tequila in his hand, definitely not
how I left him this morning. He’s staring at the empty envelopes,
his frown growing bigger by the second.

Geez, he looks
angry. Way to put a downer on my euphoria.

I approach the
table. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t
look up.

Okay, I think,
we’re playing the sulky guessing game. It’s a long time since I’ve
seen this one.

“I picked a
dress,” I add, hoping a change of subject might break his silence.
“It’s very sexy.”

Clearly, or I
wouldn’t have chosen it.

He ignores
me.

Oh, this is
ridiculous. I might as well talk to myself. Which I already am.

“I’m going to
make a start on lunch. Is salmon okay?”

Nicholas looks
up at me. It’s almost as if he doesn’t see me. A sense of dread
washes over me. My heart begins to pound uncomfortably in my chest.
Something is wrong. Really wrong. Nicholas picks up his phone from
the table and flips the mail app open. He holds it in my
direction.

“Take a look
at this.” His voice is hard. I’ve never heard him speak in this
tone before.

I take the
phone and begin to read but my excitement at the fact that it’s an
email from Joel soon dissipates as I scan the contents. Suddenly,
my plans for weddings and baby showers are forgotten. My reborn
friendship with Emily loses its sheen and is swept under the rug.
Because nothing can compare to the emotion that Nicholas must be
feeling, the turmoil that must be raging inside him. No wonder he
had that look on his face. Joel wants to dissolve the partnership.
He’s hired a team of lawyers who will be in touch. He thinks it’s
best if the three of us don’t see each other or converse. He’s not
after anything except his share and a chance at a new life without
us.

Confused, I
read it again. I must have misconstrued the meaning. This cannot be
true. Joel would never leave us. His being gone is a bump in the
road, Nicholas reassured me of that. He told me Joel would come
back, that when he does this disappearing act he always comes back.
He just needs to get his head straight.

“I had a call
from Joel’s lawyers,” Nicholas says, as if he’s read my mind. “It’s
true.”

I sink on the
chair beside Nicholas’. I try to take him in my arms, to console
him. Hell, I need consolation too but he shrugs me away as if my
touch is burning his flesh. We can get through this like we did
when Joel left, I know we can. All we have to do is believe.

“Nicholas?”

“Not now,
Sadie.”

What does that
mean?

“I’m so
sorry.” I don’t know why I’m apologising. It’s that thing you do,
like when someone dies or gets diagnosed with cancer. You apologise
though you had nothing to do with it.

“I think it’s
a bit late for that.” Nicholas stands. The look of derision on his
face is more than I can cope with and tears begin to slide down my
cheeks. I know I should stay calm for the baby but I can’t, not
when he’s looking at me like he hates me.

“How can I
help? Let me help,” I say.

Okay, I’m
practically begging. It’s a little bit pathetic really.

“You’ve done
plenty enough already. I don’t need your help.”

I bury my face
in my hands. My world is rumbling around me and I have no idea how
to mend it or if I can.

“Stop crying,
Sadie. Crying is not going to solve this crisis.”

I sit up. I
press my lips together, refusing to let him make me cry anymore.
Fair enough, I think, I’ll shout instead. I’ll scream like a
banshee because this isn’t my freakin’ fault.

So I do.

I lose it.
Literally.

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