Olivia

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I scroll down until Jasper's name pops up, then hit the call button. On the second ring, he answers.

"Hello?"

His voice is low and husky on the other end, and my breath catches. Luckily, I'm quick to compose myself. "What are you doing?"

Shuffling greets me, then a grunt and the sound of something clanging before he speaks. "I'm in the gym."

My mind doesn't waste time to rewind to the time he was in my room, shirtless, all masculine and delicious muscle; water droplets running down his chest, followed by the way he held me. . . kissed me.

I'm doomed.

"Are you imagining me shirtless?"

"No, just wondering what your plans are for the day," I retort, praying he can't tell I'm lying.

There's another bang and something clinking before there's a short exhale. "Finish up in the gym, think about what to get while I'm shopping with my father and Emit, why?"

My brain snaps to the reason I'm calling him, and I suck in a deep breath. "So, I'm at a shop to get the dress, but I'm nervous." I shake my head and lean back against the wall. "They're asking me what I want for the wedding, and I don't know because it's not just my wedding day, it's ours. I wanted to know if you had any preferences for things?"

It's silent, and my nerves skyrocket again. The doubtfulness scolds me for not letting Marissa handle it—

"You are remarkable, little one," Jasper comments, clearing his throat. "I would say I don't mind, but I know you won't quit unless I share some input." He chuckles, and I can't help but grin.

Letting out a small breath, I relax. "Do you want a theme?"

"Not unless you do. Traditional white and black, or colour combination?"

Thinking about it, the idea doesn't sound bad. "Yeah, let's do colours. Since we matched last time, would you like favourite colours?"

"Sounds good to me, beautiful."

Tapping my foot on the pavement while fighting the heat rising to my face, I murmur, "Favourite colours, so that would be orange. . ." I start.

"And green," he finishes.

"You remember?" we ask in unison, causing each other to chuckle and giggle.

Seeing how this is going, I can't remember why I was nervous in the first place. Jasper's listening and contributing his ideas, and he hasn't tried to take over or shove it all on me. It's going better than I could've imagined.

"That's us sorted," he starts. "What would you like the colour theme to be?"

Pondering on it, I reply hesitantly, "How about white? What do you suggest?"

There's a thump and a slap as his breathing slightly quickens, and it has my heart skipping a beat.

"I'm fine with white. Would you like blue?"

There's a quicker sequence of thuds and swipes. "Sure, and what are you doing?"

There's a light pant and another beat. "I'm at the punching bag."

"Ah, got it. Uh, teach it a lesson?" I return, and his chuckle is full of tender humour.

"I will, little dove. Is there anything else you would like to ask me?"

I can't fight the smile on my lips as I shake my head. "I think that's everything and thank you for this. Good luck with your shopping list," I giggle.

I hear muffled voices and someone calling Jasper, and I have a feeling I know who it is.

"You too, darling."

When the call ends, my smile widens, and it doesn't want to shrink. Not just because of our phone call, but because there's a goal to complete.

Swivelling on my heels, I hop up the step and feel at ease this time round to hearing the small bell jingling upon my entry. Five pairs of eyes swing in my direction, and each of them are wearing matching grins.

What are they grinning about?

"You looked so happy when you came in; it was nice," Emilia coos whilst brushing a lock of green behind her ear.

Warmth rides over the swells of my cheeks and doesn't shift as I fiddle with my hands. "Thank you. . . uh, we know what we want for the wedding now. We're going with colour themes."

"Come on, don't keep me in suspense!" Luna bellows, startling me.

It's crazy how she can blend in and suddenly pop up when you forget she's there. I've only been around her for five minutes and can't help but think this is the norm for her.

"The main colours are blue and white. . . and for ourselves, we have chosen favourite colours; I would like my dress to be his"—I glance toward Luna with a grateful smile— "If you can and it's fine, that is?"

She squeals, providing us with another round of jumps before taking us past the white dresses into a backroom that splits off into individual rooms. "The white dresses at the front of the store are displays for a few standard styles. Out here, we have some more designs, and plenty of colours to choose from," she explains, waving her hands around. "If you can't see one you like, I can show you the books, so we can grab it from the lockers. Now that's sorted, what colour do you want?"

Eyeing the doors, trying to guess which one it could be, I say, "The orange, please."

Luna leads me by the hand, and her grip is so gentle I have to double check if I'm even holding it. The waft of her citrusy perfume tugs a smile onto my face. She pulls me down between all the rooms until we reach one at the very end, and when she swings the door open, my eyes widen. It looks like the sun has taken residence inside. There are a variety of shades that greet me along with styles: strapless, straps, flowy, short, puffy, name it and it's here.

"They look beautiful," I awe, caressing the fabric of the closest one.

"Go on, babe, pick three and give us a spin," Merideth ushers with a gleaming grin, and I sport one of my own in response.

Brimmed with excitement, I step around each of the displays and their models, sizing them up and gauging which one feels like me.

After today, I think my dislike for shopping is going to change.

After much scrutiny, Luna finally bounds for the door within the room where I'm guessing the lockers are. She's been hovering on her seat the moment I started my search, and I can tell this is her favourite part of the process. Darting back, she grins at me and drapes each bag in my arms. "Go, go, go!"

Laughing, I round to the small cubicle, and draw the curtain behind me. Even the cubical is pretty. Pastel orange curtain, cream walls, a small corner seat, and a body length mirror. Hanging all three, I switch my favourite choice last. Unzipping the first, I carefully wriggle it over me for fear of tearing it. Staring at the mirror, I nod in appreciation; it's simple and cute, it falls straight down my body with two thin straps, and the section covering my breasts is crinkled.

With a deep breath, I poke my head out between the curtain to scope out the room. When their heads turn to me, I step out with a sheepish smile. "Dress number one?"

Reading their expressions is hard, I want a rough idea so I'm ready for whatever they're going to comment. My eyes blink rapidly when four flashes go off, followed by another round of clicks. Lucinda is the first to put her phone down, so I concentrate on her.

"The colour suits you, but I think we can all agree it's something you'd wear to a fancy date more than anything," she advises, but gives me a thumbs up nevertheless.

I know what they mean, and I'm thankful this wasn't my first choice.

Heading through, I draw the curtain and swap it for the puffy one. It's thick and bounces out at the hips, the bodice is spacious, and the bottom is ruffled. It feels heavier compared to the last one, and it's a negative already. Stepping out again, I twirl for my own amusement this time, trying to get a better feel for the hefty material swirling with me.

"You would make a beautiful Disney Princess," Luna awes, twirling a tendril of platinum with a huff. "The dress makes you look smaller though. . . would you give heels a go?"

There isn't much of an option, it's a wedding. Heels finish it off.

"No offence, darling, but I don't think heels will help this time," Emilia notes, and she may have a point.

Carrying myself back into the changing room, I swap it out for my favourite. A paler sunset orange fabric greets me, and I love the glittery bodice. The specks are the same shade as the dress, but they manage to catch the light and twinkle, there's one slender strap, and the way the material sweeps down to my ankles is perfect. Moving the designated veil to the side, I don't waste time in wriggling it on.

It hugs me in all the right places to show off the curves of my assets, which is something different for me, but it makes me feel. . . bolder.

Crossing my fingers, I suck in a needed breath, and stride out for the—hopefully—final twirl of the day. Marissa's grassy gaze trails over me with delight while the others take more pictures. With a gleaming smile, she clasps her hands together and gushes, "This is perfect, my dear."

My head bobs excitedly, earning a giggle from Luna who bounds off to where the lockers are. There's audible shuffling and things slamming before she emerges with a plentiful selection of veils the same tone as my dress. Some had patterns, others were simple, but the one that catches my eye is the simple veil with white flower clips to pin into my hair.

"Is there a preference for what type of heel you would like?" Luna queries, eyeing my feet for a second. "Tall, thin, thick?

"Uh, whatever you think will suit the dress, but nothing high, please."

Tapping her chin, her summery blue eyes widen as she snaps her fingers. "I have these cute heels that will be perfect! Light orange, not that much different than the dress, and heels are no longer than five centimetres—maybe four as a push?"

I smile. "That sounds great, thank you."

"No problem, and either of you can have these delivered or come and collect them yourself whenever you need them," Luna informs. "Now, I'm going to make notes and find somewhere safe for these! Thank you for coming, and it was great to finally meet you, Olivia."

"And you," I say quickly as the others hop to their feet.

"That's the outfit, next is my place!" Emilia cheers, giggling while leading the group toward the exit.