Veronica held her hand out over the manicurist’s table and watched the woman paint her nails a shimmering shade of red. Each of the bridesmaids had their turn to get pedicures and manicures, and Veronica had volunteered to go last. As the manicurist started on the topcoat, Veronica craned her neck around and peered at her sister, who was busy getting her hair pinned up into tons of tiny twists.
“How was the tour?” Veronica asked, glancing out the window at the Wolf Pack bodyguards Logan had assigned to watch over her. He had to perform typical best man duties and couldn’t escort Veronica around himself, so it appeared that he’d called in the largest, most lethal packmates they had on staff. “You haven’t talked about it much.”
“It was good. Long. Tiring.” Leah stared at herself in the mirror and slowly turned her neck this way and that to peek at what the stylist was doing. “Make sure there are enough pins,” she said. “I don’t want those twists falling out.”
“Don’t worry.” The hairstylist put in two more pins and shoved another two in her mouth to ready them for the next twist. “Your hair won’t go anywhere.”
“Good.” Leah turned her dark eyes on Veronica. They looked so much like their mother’s: droopy, hooded eyes with naturally thick fans of inky-black lashes. “I don’t want to talk about my tour. I want to talk about you and Logan. What’s going on between the two of you?”
Taking her gaze off the guards pacing out front, Veronica swiveled her chair around and kept her hands in position. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re a sucky liar.” Leah squinted her eyes and pursed her mouth. “Spill it.”
“I
“Holy shit, V! How’d that happen? You hate his…relatives.”
“I know, I know. I tried not to like him, but he was like a fungus that came out of nowhere, wouldn’t go away, and the next thing I know, he grew on me.”
Leah laughed from her belly, making the plastic leopard-print apron covering her body shake. “You’re not supposed to compare the guy you like to a fungus. It’s a good thing you’re not a writer.”
“You know what I mean,” Veronica said. “I tried not to like him, I really tried. If I knew what was good for me, I’d forget I ever met him.”
“Here’s some advice.” Leah leaned forward, taking the hairstylist’s fingers with her. “If you have to try not to like someone, and it still doesn’t work, that’s a pretty clear sign that you more than like him. You’re in love.”
“I’m not…”
But Veronica couldn’t finish her sentence. Did she love Logan? She couldn’t stop thinking of those light-gray eyes. That chiseled body. Those broad shoulders and strong arms that could swoop her up and protect her. At first, when he’d shadowed her to every appointment, she’d been seriously annoyed. Somehow, along the way, she’d started to like him being there with her. She’d had fun and loosened up with him, even when she was making his life hell. When he said he wanted to protect her, all she could think about was how she’d wanted to take care of him.
But he didn’t want to be with her. Not in the same way.
Even if he did, how would they blend their lives together? They were from two completely different worlds.
“Leah, can I ask you something personal, without you giving your opinion on what you think I should do?”
She smiled, her thin lips pulling back wide. “Sure.”
“Every month, when you take that trip with Jake’s family to the mountains…” Damn, she had to be really careful how she worded this. The bridesmaids weren’t listening to their conversation, but the lounge area wasn’t far away and voices echoed in the salon. She still had to worry about the stylist though, who looked as though she was hanging on every word. “Do you feel like yourself? Or do you feel…different? Sick and stuff,” she threw in for listening ears.
Leah sighed. “You guys have progressed that far already?”
“No, but isn’t that something you had to think about before you stepped into a relationship with Jake?”
“It’s something you should think about, yes, but our situation was different.”
As the manicurist lifted Veronica’s hands and placed them beneath the drying light, Leah spoke up. “Ladies, would you mind giving us some privacy? Just a few minutes?”
The stylist and manicurist collected a few of their things and left the room quietly, securing the door behind them.
“Okay, how do I say this,” Leah said, keeping her head still so her tower of unpinned hair wouldn’t topple. “At first, I felt really…off. I was depressed and dealing with the effects of the attack. But when I took off to the mountains every month with Jake’s family, and then with him alone, I started to come to grips with my new situation. It was like, once I accepted the hand that I’d been dealt wholeheartedly, everything came easily. I fell in love with Jake, started getting book ideas, and the rest is history.”
“I didn’t know you were depressed.” Veronica spun around, facing Leah’s chair. But Leah still wouldn’t look at her—wedding hair must’ve been serious business. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to bother you. You were already dealing with a lot, coming to grips with what happened.”
“I wasn’t going through nearly as much as you were.”
Leah finally met Veronica’s gaze. “I love you, V, and I wanted you to still love me, too. I didn’t want you worried about my depression or the changes I was going through. I needed you to accept what I came to accept through Jake’s love.”
“I think I needed to accept it on my own.”
“Does Logan have any leads on the stalker?” Leah asked, as if she knew Veronica’s thoughts had veered back to him.
Veronica shook her head. “He picked up his scent. Said it was unique.” She steeled herself for the hardest question of all. “If you had the choice…if the attack hadn’t happened…would you have chosen…you know?”
Leah’s whole face lit up. Her skin glowed with radiant happiness. “If I met Jake, knew without a doubt that he was the one for me, and he asked me to marry him…yes. I wouldn’t care if he was a wolf, bear, jaguar, vampire, or zombie. I’d love him just the same.”
“A zombie? Bet that’d make the sex sounds interesting.”
They laughed, and the tension released from Veronica’s shoulders. She threw her arms around Leah’s neck, careful not to brush her with her tacky nails.
“Whoa, whoa, watch the hair!” Leah put her hands up as if she could guard it from the attack.
“I love you so much,” Veronica said, squeezing her tightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Leah wrapped her arms around Veronica’s back and gave her a loving rub. “I love you, too, but you really have to watch my hair or you’ll make me late to my wedding. I hear this really kick-ass wedding planner set up one hell of a party.”
“We’ll see.”
As the stylist returned to the room, she slid the veil’s comb into place, cementing Leah as the most stunning bride in history.
The bridal party left the shop and slid into the limo ahead of schedule. Veronica glanced back at the men following them and repressed a sigh. The Seattle Wolf Pack dynamic was very appealing, she couldn’t deny it. For a short time, she’d felt like part of a family. Special. Someone cared enough to make sure she was all right, even when she went to the salon. They really did fight—and care—for one another.
It was too bad she’d always be on the outside looking in.
Their limo pulled into the underground parking of the Starlight Tower Club. The girls practically ran to the elevators, and when they entered the bridal suite, laughing and giddy from excitement, Leah gasped.
“What’s this?” she asked, pointing at her wedding dress hanging from the bathroom doorjamb. “Tell me it’s not—”
“Your dress.” Veronica jumped into action, taking the dress off the door and examining every inch of it. It was gorgeous. Pristine. Exactly how it’d been in the store. “What are you seeing? What’s wrong with it?”
“Oh yeah, it’s beautiful.” Leah folded arms and tapped her foot. “But it’s not my dress.”
