“Hello, sweetheart. And how is my bride-to-be?”
My mom’s voice has me falling backwards onto the bed with an exhaustive grunt. Damn it to Hell. I should’ve looked at the name on the screen, or let this call go to voicemail entirely. There’s only one reason why she’s calling me. One topic she wants to discuss. I hear the sound of papers ruffling and know she’s got her trusted notepad ready, full of last-minute changes she’s about to suggest or insist I make. Because with five days until my wedding, we have all the time in the world to change shit around.
I rub my free hand down the side of my face, bracing myself for this phone call that will surely end in her throwing that same notepad across the room.
“I’m good, Mom. How are you?”
“I’m wonderful, dear. Listen, I swung by this quaint little Italian restaurant yesterday in Printer’s Row, and it would be the perfect venue for the rehearsal dinner. And I already checked to make sure they’re available.”
I feel my frustration level quickly rising. “Mom, Reese and I don’t want a rehearsal dinner. I’ve told you this already. We want to run through the ceremony and go out afterwards with our friends.”
My mother gasps as if she’s just now hearing this information for the first time, which is definitely not the case. “Dylan, every wedding has an actual sit-down rehearsal dinner. You can’t skip that detail. It’s crucial.”
“Crucial? You make it sound as important as our wedding vows.”
“It is,” she insists with a firm tone.
I grumble and roll over, rubbing my face into the comforter. The faint smell of citrus calms me down a bit, but not enough to agree to this absurdity. “Mom, this is what Reese and I want. It’s our wedding. I’m sorry if you don’t agree with our decision, but it’s final. No dinner. If people get hungry, they can go hit up a drive-thru.”
“Oh, that’s just ridiculous, Dylan. A drive-thru? How tacky is that.” The sound of her exhaling loudly fills my ear, followed by the crinkling of paper. “Fine. No dinner. I suppose I’ll have to pack some snacks for your father to munch on during the actual rehearsal. You know how he gets when he goes without a meal.”
I chuckle into the comforter just as the sound of my loft door opening catches my attention. I roll over quickly, keeping the phone against my ear as Reese emerges behind the door. He closes it and I hold my hand out, palm up, silently asking him what he’s doing here. It’s almost six o’clock and he’s usually at the office by now. He smiles his response before he walks toward me. He’s dressed in his usual work attire, a dress shirt, tie, and khakis, and it gets me like it always does. The man does office-wear like no other.
“Hey, Mom, I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight at the fitting, right?”
More papers rustling comes through the phone before she answers, prompting me to roll my eyes. “Of course. I’d never miss it. Maggie and I will meet you there at 6:30 p.m. Goodbye, sweetheart.”
“Bye, Mom.”
I press end and drop the phone onto the bed before lifting my gaze to Reese. “Handsome, what are you doing here? Don’t you have numbers to crunch?”
He steps around my screen that divides my one large room into two and stops just in front of me. “I do. But I couldn’t stop thinking about something.”
“Oh? My sparkling personality?”
He laughs, reaching out and opening my towel. His eyes linger on my breasts for several seconds before he lifts his gaze to meet mine. “Do you think one of the times last night took?”