Chapter 169 169

Chapter 169 169
So, so wrong.

I’m less “over it” than ever.

His hair is slicked back, dark and smooth as sin. His piercing gray gaze has me pinned, like I couldn’t move if I wanted to. Not that I particularly want to. After all, the view is pretty damn good.

His three-piece suit hugs him like it’s carved from marble. He’s wearing black—we decided I’d seen enough white and cream suits for a lifetime—and God above, if it doesn’t look spectacular on him… I’m dead serious. He should never be wearing anything else.

Well, except his birthday suit.

I let my eyes travel over his crisp shirt, so tight I can count the ridges in his rock-hard abs. His pants, pressed to perfection. His shoes, so shiny I can see myself reflected in them.

Then his cologne hits me, and I’m a goner.

I breathe in deeply. Notes of cedarwood and amber wrap around me, sinful and inviting.

Yes, I’m waxing poetic. But I feel like it’s a forgivable offense, considering how hot my husband-to-be is.

My husband-to-be. That thought makes the butterflies in my stomach go wild.

“Nothing.” I blurt the answer to his question without even remembering what it was. “Definitely, um. Not a thing.”

His perfect lips curl into a smirk. “Thought so.”

“Hi, Mommy!” Eli rolls down the window and waves at me from the backseat. In his arms, he’s holding a little pink bundle—his baby sister, Kira. “Did you get into school?”

Warmth spreads into every part of me. “I did.” I grin. “You’re looking at NYU’s freshest comeback student.”

“And hottest,” Yulian murmurs into my ear from behind.

A sweet shiver zaps down my spine. I desperately try to tamp down the surge of desire his husky voice makes me feel. “S-Shouldn’t you be at the venue?”

“Thought I’d give you the chance to change on the way.” His gaze grows darker. “For old times’ sake.”

“Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

“I don’t need luck.” He caresses my hand, trails the edges of the diamond on my finger. “I’ve already got you.”

Christ. If he doesn’t stop acting so much like—like himself, we might not make it to our own wedding after all.

Thank goodness he brought the kids.

Speaking of…

“Hey there, baby girl.” A little gurgle comes in response. “Having fun with your big brother? Has he been showing you all the sights?”

“I’m teaching her the names of all the colors!”

“Good boy.” I don’t point out it’s way too early for that. Just seeing them like this, acting like the best of buddies only three months after Kira’s birth, is enough to make me feel fuzzy all over. “She’ll be the smartest kid in pre-K.”

“I hope so. I don’t want her to get bullied.” Sadness flits through Eli’s eyes, but only for a second. “Not like…”

My heart clenches. “She won’t be.” I press a kiss to the top of his head, then Kira’s. “And I promise you won’t be, either. Ever again.”

“I know.” He gives me a small smile. “Ally and Marcus are nice. And Daddy already said he’ll have a talk with anyone who tries to bully me.”

“Did he, now?”

“He did.” It’s Yulian who answers. “No one gets to push my son around.”

“Hey, what happened to ‘ours’?”

“He’s in my car.” He shrugs. “Get in, and you can get your fifty percent back. But I’m demanding interest.”

“Oh?” I lean in. Yulian’s stubble grazes my cheek, lighting up that stray spark of desire again. “And what would that be?”

“More little ones.” He tilts my chin up. His grip is strong, yet gentle. “Until I’m satisfied.”

My knees turn to jelly. How can it still be like this? After all that’s happened, all we’ve done⁠—

How can it feel like the first time all over again?

Luckily, Eli yells out, “Ew! Gross! Don’t kiss!”

He covers Kira’s (already closed) eyes. I laugh. Yulian benevolently stops seducing me—for the time being.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

I don’t have to think about the answer. “Yes.” I smile. “Let’s do this.”

Let’s go say “yes” one last time.

“Why did you put your wedding dress on in the car?!” Kallie gasps, horrified by the state of me.

“It’s not that bad,” I mutter. Sure, there’s a few creases here and there, and a suspiciously orange Cheez-It-smelling stain on a corner of my organza skirt. But all in all, I look pretty put together.

Compared to my scrubs, at least.

Nikita walks up to me. She’s wearing an uncharacteristically smug look, like she definitely knows something I don’t. “Alright, fine,” she sighs. “We were saving the surprise for the dance floor, but I guess an emergency’s an emergency. Bibbidi… bobbidi… boo!”

I can barely follow her movements. She starts working deftly at the small of my back, and then⁠—

My puffy skirt falls to the ground.

Or rather, the outer layer.

“One more tweak…” Nik pulls the corners close together, crosses them behind me. The now-smooth skirt, all pearly crepe, tightens around my hips, hugging them like a second skin.

She latches something—two secret buttons, by the looks of it—and then… “Voilà!”

I’m speechless. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. “How…?”

“Special gift from your bridesmaids,” Kallie winks. “Call us psychic, but between baby Kira and Eli’s passion for stain-prone snacks, we knew a wardrobe malfunction was more than likely.”

“We also have, like, three replacement dresses in there.” Nik points with her thumb to an enormous antique closet behind us. “Just in case.”

“The tailor was really nice,” Kallie adds. “Didn’t even ask for extra. Said she had too much fun with it to charge us.”