Call Me Crazy (Bellamy Creek #3) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Bellamy Creek Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
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“Right.”

“And you’re not lying to Bianca.”

“No. We’re open about everything. We know exactly what we’re getting into.” Although lately, I wasn’t positive that last bit was true. The ground felt a little less firm beneath us.

“Then you have to trust each other. She chose this too, after all. She picked you to have a child with.” He lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder toward the kitchen. “That’s a big fucking deal.”

“Yeah.” I was silent for a moment, still staring at the roller in the paint tray. “Did you tell Cheyenne?”

“I did. I don’t keep big stuff from her. I hope that was okay.”

“It’s fine.” I swallowed hard. “Does she think it’s crazy?”

“Yes. But she’s weirdly happy about it.” He laughed, scratching his head. “I think she just likes weddings.”

“This one should be interesting.” I closed my eyes. “I cannot imagine what Bianca is going to make me say about her during those vows.”

Cole laughed. “What are you going to make her say about you?”

“I have no fucking idea.” Shaking my head, I started to laugh. “But don’t worry, I’ll make it good.”

Six

Bianca

“That’s it. That’s the one,” my mother said, dabbing at her eyes when I stepped out of the dressing room at the bridal shop late Wednesday afternoon.

“Mom, you’ve said that about every dress she’s tried on so far,” my sister pointed out. They were seated next to each other on a pink velvet settee, watching me study myself in a three-paneled mirror.

“I kind of like this one,” I said, turning to check out the back. It was ivory lace, knee-length and full-skirted, with an illusion neckline revealing a sweetheart bodice, and short lace cap sleeves trimmed with scalloped edges. The fitted waist was emphasized with a satin ribbon belt, and the billowing lace skirts were also trimmed with a scalloped edge. It had a slightly vintage feel that I loved—it actually reminded me of something Lucy Ricardo might have worn, which made me laugh to myself. Best of all, it wasn’t too expensive or too long, which was basically a miracle at my height.

“That’s a great choice for a bride your size,” said the saleswoman, whose name tag read Anita.

“Sorry I’m late!” Blair Dempsey, a friend from my book club who was recently married to Enzo’s friend Griffin, rushed into the shop. I’d asked her to come because she had beautiful taste, and I wanted a non-family opinion. She stopped short when she saw me and put her hands over her mouth. “Oh my God.”

“What do you think?” I turned to face her.

“I love it.” She clasped her hands over her heart. “It’s sweet, it’s elegant, it’s fun, it suits your personality.” She nodded. “It’s perfect.”

“I like it too.” I faced the mirror again. “But is it too formal?”

“Not at all,” Blair said confidently.

“Honey, this is your wedding dress,” my mother said. “It should be formal.”

“But I’m getting married at City Hall, Mom. And my reception is at the Bulldog Pub. We’ll be eating sliders and fries and drinking boxed wine.”

“And it’s going to be amazing,” Blair said, coming closer to me. She studied my reflection in the mirror. “It doesn’t even need to be altered, which is a sure sign from the universe.”

“Then I guess this is the one.” I smiled, feeling triumphant. “Unzip me?”

“Wait, you’re not even going to try on any of the other ones?” Anita was shocked. “You’ve only tried on three. Most brides try on at least a dozen.”

“She’s not most brides,” said my sister with a snicker.

I glared at her over my shoulder.

“Still. Are you sure?” Anita was concerned, her hands knitted together.

“I’m sure. My wedding is on Friday, so I don’t really have a lot of time.”

“That’s true,” she admitted. “And this is stunning on you. Should we try a little veil?”

“No,” I said firmly. “No veil.”

“Just a short one?” Anita snapped her fingers. “Give me one minute. I have the perfect thing. It just came in.”

While we waited, Blair sighed again, placing her palms on her cheeks. “The dress is so beautiful, Bianca. Enzo is going to lose his marbles when he sees you.”

I laughed. “Thanks. Nothing I like more than making Enzo lose his marbles.”

“It’s just amazing the way you two fell for each other,” she said, her eyes soft and dreamy. “To think, you’ve known each other almost your entire lives.”

“Isn’t it romantic and old-fashioned?” my mother said, rising from the settee to come closer and fuss with my hair. Her eyes filled again.

“Stop, Mom.” I swatted her hands away. Her tears made me feel bad. Frankly, so did Blair’s sweet words. Or maybe it was the sinking feeling in my stomach that I wasn’t doing a very good job keeping my feelings for Enzo in the right place.

“This one!” Anita came rushing back into the fitting area carrying a sparkling headpiece with a pouf of French netting attached. Standing behind me, she settled it on one side of my head, and I had to admit it looked perfect with the dress. “It’s called a birdcage veil,” Anita explained. “It’s a vintage style, but very trendy again.”


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