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by
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Amazon Edition
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Recovery
Copyright © 2013 by L.B. Simmons
Cover design by © Sarah Hansen of Okay Creations
Edited By Jennifer Roberts-Hall
Book formatting by JT Formatting
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Coming Soon
Acknowledgments
About the Author
For N ~
Have Patience.
~ Me
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“Alex! Where are you?” Harlow yells, parading into my bedroom. As stealthily as possible, I lift my dress and tiptoe my way to the bathroom, quietly locking the door behind me. Click. I’m pretty sure she’s honed in on my actual location, but I choose to remain silent, hoping to throw her off for a couple of minutes. That’s all I need.
Just a couple of minutes to collect my thoughts and gather my wits.
Turning slowly, I narrow my eyes, challenging the reflection staring back at me in the mirror.
White. White? Am I sure? I nod my head with absolute certainty. Yes, I am. I mean, I have three children; it’s no secret I’m not a virgin. But, Blake should have the “perfect” wedding. It’s his first and I would like to grant him the full experience. He deserves nothing less, and if I can, I would like to give it to him. So, here I am in my beautiful white wedding dress, wanting him to have everything that he deserves. And everything that goes with the perfect wedding.
Something borrowed…
Harlow’s new Wonderbra for better lift. Since it’s a cup size smaller than every other bra she owns, I’m inclined to believe she bought it just so I could borrow it. Thirty-three, with three kids, and after breast feeding…I definitely need all the Wonderhelp I can get.
Something blue…
I haven’t found anything yet, but I will. I’ll just grab one of Kyndall’s hair clips if I have to.
Something old…
Um, well, looking at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but laugh. Yes, I could constitute as that…
Something new...
My dress. Yes, that’s it. There is absolutely nothing new I would have to give Blake. Right?
The only wedding rule I don’t plan on following is seeing Blake before the wedding. I’ve had my fair share of bad luck so that one doesn’t really concern me. I would like to think I’ve been granted a reprieve.
Gliding my fingers over the delicate lace at the top of my dress, I take a deep breath in through my nose. “I don’t know if I can do this again,” I say out loud to myself. “I’m too old.”
Okay, I know I’m not that old, and I’m being a tad overdramatic, but honestly some days I feel over eighty-five.
“Too old for what? What are you talking about, Alex?” I hear Harlow’s strained voice behind the door as she jiggles the handle. “And why the hell is the door locked?”
Exhaling a deep, frustrated breath, I roll my eyes and follow it up with my trusty death glare. Seriously? A couple of minutes, that’s all I ask.
“I just need a second, Harlow. Don’t you have some maid of honor stuff to do?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll get right on that.” I note the thick layer of sarcasm she’s pouring all over that comment, but let it go because there are more important things at hand. Pressing my ear flush against the door, I listen to her heels click their way out of the bedroom. I’m halfway tempted to look under the door to make sure she’s not just pretending to leave with fake footsteps because I’ve fallen victim to that ploy a time or two.
Turning around, I slowly drag myself back to the bathroom counter. “I can do this.”
My stomach flips once and tumbles twice. I swallow thickly while grinding my teeth. Great. This does not bode well for my wedding day.
I run my hands over the white satin; my brown eyes finding the reflection with which to resume the previous pep-talk. “So what if you’re thirty-three? You can do this. People do it all the time. You. Can. Do. This.”
“Can do what? What the hell are you talking about, Alex? Why are you so nervous? Seriously, I’m starting to get worried.” Wide-eyed at her audacity, I watch the doorknob as it turns back and forth, Harlow obviously messing with the lock from the other side. Damn it. I guess I need to hide those tiny little screwdrivers that I use when Rylie decides to lock bathroom doors…again. Normally, I would be glad Harlow’s privy to their top secret location, but right now, not so much.
“Harl–”
I’m cut off mid-sentence as she masters the locked door in record time, hastily making her way into the bathroom. “Dude, give me a sec–”
“What the hell’s going on, Alex?” She interrupts again.
She attempts to gain further entrance and I block her full force, wedding dress and all. With narrowed eyes we exchange glares and while doing so, I take a moment to really look at my best friend for the first time today. I’ve been a little preoccupied.
If she hadn’t just busted into my private affirmation session, I would have loved to tell Harlow how absolutely gorgeous she looks. I picked out just the right shade of dusty rose for her dress because it really does compliment her light skin tone. Her make-up is done with expert precision and her hair is in a messy side bun just like mine, with her red curly locks falling in soft tendrils that frame her face perfectly. Beautiful.
She must be reading my thoughts, which tends to happen way too often, because after another quick second of looking at her, she dodges to the left and shouts, “If you mess up my hair, so help me, Alex!” Not easily daunted, I shuffle myself right in front of her while fanning out the bottom of my dress. The more room I can take up, the less likely she is to dart by me.