This is my dream—sort of.
Like most women, I had dreams of my wedding. A Pinterest board. Ideas of the kind of food we’d have and the music. My biggest fantasy was having it around Christmas. The beautiful lights and trees, the holiday vibe, and joy circling one of the most important moments of my life.
But not with over four hundred guests in attendance.
My fiancé, Bobby, comes from a very public and prestigious family that spends money like they print it in their basement. It’s all about reputation, but also helping the community.
That’s where I first met Bobby.
It was a community day where we were plantingtrees and landscaping in one of the low-income cities of Stonehaven. Bobby was out digging. His muscles flexed underneath the Spring sun, and he looked like a Calvin Klein model showing off…well, everything.
Bobby is out of my league by a long shot. Dark hair, beautiful green eyes, and a jaw that I love outlining with my fingertips.
I didn’t get his name when we first met. I was too busy in awe that he even spoke and helped me after I had gracelessly spilled a bag of mulch all over the concrete.
In my defense, the bag was more than likely ripped. He flirted a bit, asked if I’d go to dinner with him, then he disappeared.
And by disappeared, I mean I didn’t see him for the rest of the day.
So, of course, I stalked him on social media after asking around about who he was, because why would I leave it alone? It took days of my best friend, Nettie, harassing me to message him.
So, I did.
And we’ve been dating for two years ever since.
He popped the question six months ago, and now I’m marrying the man who supports and loves me with everything I do.
I shouldn’t be second-guessing anything.
But things have changed since Bobby’s father told him he was going to take over their family’s hedge fund company. He’s been super stressed, and the pressure has been falling on him in bucketloads. It’s been nothing but late nights and meetings, business trips and reports.
However, I’ll stick by him like he stuck by me when I got my non-profit up and running and even helped with it. Bobby and I may not have spent a lot of time together lately, but I love him.
And he still wants to marry me.
“I’m not overthinking it,” I retort with pinned and defensive brows. “It’s just…a big step.”
“I’ve been married three times,” Richard reminds me. “Theman knows what he’s got, and he’ll take good care of you. I’ve met him.”
“You have.”
“He needs a bit more grit under his ass, but, hey…who am I to judge the guy?”
“Says the guy cheating in Bingo.”
“You didn’t get on Bobby when he flirted with Claire.”
“Because she was having a bad day, and I highly doubt Bobby is going to leave me for an eighty-one-year-old woman who is obsessed with sewing patterns.”
Richard laughs. “You’d be surprised. She makes a mean biscuits and gravy.”
I roll my eyes at that.
If it were avocado toast with burrata and truffle oil, maybe. Bobby is a bit of a food snob, not that I’m complaining. Some of the best dinners I’ve had in my life are because he introduced me to fine dining. But the man willnoteat a hamburger to save his life, and I have made it my life’s mission to shove one down his throat before I die.
Hence, the provocative lingerie I bought for our honeymoon to help sway him.
As his future wife, I would be doing this man a disservice if he’s been deprived of such a food. He was raised on the best of everything, but since we’ve been dating, Bobby has really allowed me to take the reins on dates, new restaurants that aren’t a five-star restaurant with a Michelin-starred chef,exceptthe damn man still refuses the hamburger.