IT WAS AN EDUCATION TO LEARN that you needed an appointment to get a wedding dress. Apparently, you were supposed to get one months before the wedding, not days, to allow time for it to be made and fitted. Within an hour of being turned away or laughed out of no less than four dress shops, my earlier euphoria had dwindled and the boys were getting more and more pissed. It wasn’t so much that we couldn’t get a dress, but more the attitude of some of the women in these places that was upsetting me and making them mad. I was all ready to jack in the shopping trip and get married in my jeans, when Kieran sensibly suggested a timeout. When the boys had each put away a full English fry up, and I’d enjoyed a nice cup of tea, Tommy, who was feeling much better, phoned his mum. He explained what had happened, as she apparently knew all about the engagement, and ten minutes later, she had gotten us an appointment in an hour at the Fairytale Boutique in Crouch End. As soon as we walked in, I knew that I would get my dress here. There was no word to describe the shop but magical. Whereas most bridal boutiques that we’d been to were pristine, modern, and sterile, this place was enchanting. The solid oak floors had been lovingly treated and the cream walls, backlit with gentle lighting, were barely visible behind the elegant arrangements of pussy willow branches interspersed with fairy lights and baby breath.
“Hello. You must be Emily,” a beautiful young woman walked toward me and shook my hand. She was dressed smartly but simply, in a fitted grey shift dress with black heels, complemented by a diamond pendant necklace and studs. All in all, she couldn’t have been much older than I was, but she had warm eyes and a really welcoming smile.
“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”
“It’s not a problem at all. I had a cancellation, so your timing is perfect.”
I turned to introduce the guys, only to find Tommy hopping about from foot to foot like some kid hyped up on sugar who desperately needed the toilet, and Kieran, staring at the lady with his mouth open.
“This is Kieran and Tommy,” I introduced. Tommy nodded his head toward her and gave a, “what’s up?” which made me roll my eyes. Kieran, as pole axed as he appeared to be, stuck out his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Marie.”
“Urr...I’m Kieran,” Kieran replied, and kept shaking her hand. I’d never seen Kieran so affected by a girl, and one who worked in a wedding dress shop no less. Usually that alone would be enough to give him hives. By Marie’s blush, it seemed that Kieran’s attraction wasn’t one sided.
“Do you think that it’s too late for us to get a dress?” I asked after a while. They jumped back guiltily, and Marie clasped both of her hands together.
“Oh, usually I would be worried, but to be honest, all of my dresses for the Christmas and New Year weddings have been delivered and I make and do the alterations on a lot of the dresses myself, so I’m sure we can find something for you. You might not get it until the afternoon before the wedding, but I’m sure I can help you out.”
“Thank you so much,” I sighed deeply, relieved beyond words that I wouldn’t have to marry the man of my dreams without a dress.
“I’m so sorry, gentlemen. You’ll have to sort yourselves out for suits. I only stock ladies dresses in here.”
“Don’t need suits, we’re the bridesmaids,” Tommy deadpanned. To give her professional credit, she didn’t laugh at him, but eyed him as though she were mentally sizing him up for a bridesmaid dress. Kieran elbowed Tommy in the stomach, hard.
“He’s kidding. We’re fine, thanks.”
Marie smiled as though she wasn’t quite sure of them both, but guided them to a plump, inviting-looking sofa at the back of the shop.
“If you gentlemen would like to take a seat, I’ll get Emily ready. Can I offer you anything to drink?” she asked. Tommy opened his trap, ready to give her his order when Kieran elbowed him again and mumbled, “We’re fine, thanks.”
With a small smile and a nod of acknowledgement to Kieran, Marie guided me to the dressing room at the back of the shop.
“I’m not sure if you have anything in mind that you’d like, but I took the liberty of racking up some dresses that I know I can make or adjust on short notice.”
All of the dresses were absolutely amazing.
“These are gorgeous,” I told her, stunned.
“Thanks.” She smiled. “These are all of my designs. We’d have to send away for a dress by any other designer, and there just isn’t the time.”
“Wow. You’re very talented,” I mused, completely truthfully.
Each dress was delicate and ethereal and fit in with the theme of the shop beautifully. I tried a couple on and Marie pinned them at the back to give me an indication of how I’d look when they were fitted to my size. I loved them all, and I knew it was going to be a tough decision.
“Emmmm...” Tommy whined, as he walked bold as brass into the fitting room.
“You’ve been ages.” Marie looked shocked at his behaviour, but to be honest, I was
shocked that Kieran had kept Tom out for as long as he had.
“Fuck me, Em, you’re gorgeous. If I knew how you looked in a wedding dress, I’d have got in there first.”
“For fuck’s sake, Tom, what if you’d walked in and seen her in her underwear? Con would have blackened your eyes up so bad that you’d still be blind at the wedding,” Kieran said, walking in behind him.
“Sorry, Marie,” Kieran apologised, red faced at seeing her expression.
“It would have been worth it,” said Tommy dreamily, obviously imagining what I looked like in my underwear.
Recovering her composure, Marie pulled back the heavy brocade curtain that separated the fitting room from the main shop and pointed.
“Out!” she ordered them, and Kieran went immediately back to his seat without argument.
“But she’s taking ages,” Tommy moaned again.
“This is the most important day of her entire life, and you’re making her feel bad. She’s going to pick any old dress in a minute rather than the dress of her dreams, just to please you. Is that what you want?”
“No,” he admitted shamefully. “Sorry, Em. Take as long as you like,” he apologised and left.
“How did you do that?” I asked. This woman could have been a nursery teacher if she wasn’t so awesome at making dresses.
“I have three younger brothers,” she explained. “Now let’s find you that dream dress.”
Five dresses in, and I found it. The dress was sheer chiffon over a silk dress. Delicate antique lace was sewn entirely over the straps and bodice of the gown and a long panel of lace ran down the back of the dress, trailing around the full skirt of the train. The fitted satin that could be seen beneath the chiffon was strapless, with a sweetheart neckline, and fit perfectly to my body until it flared out from the thigh. The reverse of the dress was quite low beneath the chiffon so that you could see the full effect of the lace across my back, and the whole dress was a soft ivory colour making it classy, but sexy at the same time. I loved it and knew that O’Connell would too.
“Please tell me that you love this one as much as I do,” Marie told me. “This is perfect for you.” This was the one.
“I love it,” I whispered, and I would have given anything right now to have a mother who I could share this moment with. I didn’t know whether most brides got emotional or whether she could sense how I was feeling, but she turned and gave me a big hug.
“You’re going to be a wonderful bride, and your fiancé is a very lucky man,” she comforted.
“Thanks,” I sniffed. This poor girl didn’t know me at all, but a hug was exactly what I needed.
“Wait here. We need a glass of something to celebrate the occasion, and I think the boys need a treat for their patience.”
She left me in front of the mirror turning from side to side, as I admired the dress, and returned a few minutes later with a delicious glass of champagne. I’d never tasted it before, but once you got used to the bubbles going up your nose, it was wonderful.
“Now, let’s get you fitted properly,” Marie announced. I looked around the dress for a price tag.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Um. I was just looking to see how much it was,” I admitted.
I was embarrassed, but still, I needed to know. The dress really didn’t look cheap, and although Danny had offered to buy one for me, I didn’t want to abuse his generosity.
“It’s already paid for lovely. I spoke to the guys when I got them a drink. They phoned with Mr. Driscoll with the price of the dress, fitting, and a budget for accessories, and he approved payment on the condition that I wasn’t to disclose the cost to you.”
With the new tears that sprang up, it took two more glasses of champagne and a bunch of tissues before we actually got round to the fitting. I didn’t think that any of the veils suited me, so in the end I settled in a small antique comb to wear with my hair up. The selection of shoes Marie kept in stock were as beautiful as the dresses, but having spent my life in flats, I didn’t think that the aisle was the best place to learn how to walk in heels. Luckily, I wasn’t the only bride to have ever felt this way, and adding magic to her other talents, Marie produced the perfect pair of off-white converse. I’d have no problem dancing the night away in these, and I’d still get to wear them after the wedding.
“By the time I’ve finished your dress, no one will even know you’re wearing them,” she reassured me. I drew the line at jewellery. I could only imagine that Danny had shelled out over a thousand pounds already, and the dress alone was more that I could ever have hoped for.
“What’s your favour colour?” Kieran asked me.
“Blue,” I replied automatically. “Why?” I asked.
“Because Con wants to know,” he replied as if this explained everything, and wandered off to talk some more on his phone. Tommy was rooting through all the racked bridesmaid dresses.
“What are you doing, Tom?” I asked and he didn’t pause as he answered, “I’m looking to see which one of the dresses suits my colour palette best.”
“Why?” I asked, trying really hard not to laugh.
“Because I’m bored,” he admitted.
“You’re so gay,” Kieran told him, who apparently having finished his own conversation had caught the tail end of ours.
“Fuck off. You’re gay for saying I’m gay.”
“Now children,” I admonished, “it doesn’t matter if you’re gay or straight. Being gay isn’t an insult, so grow up and play nice.”
Kieran turned toward Tommy. “Sorry Tom. I know you’re not gay, you’re just very effeminate, and I support you in your life choices.”
“I’m gonna’ fuck you up,” Tommy warned him until Marie interceded again.
“You land one punch inside my shop, Tommy, and I’m calling your mother.” I have never seen Tommy jump to apologise so quickly. I really needed to meet Tommy’s mum. She must be quite formidable to have this effect on him.
“So, are you coming to the party then?” Kieran asked Marie.
“What party?” I asked him, wondering if asking her along to a house party was such a good idea. My first house party experience had been less than stellar.
“Your wedding party,” Kieran explained. “You wouldn’t mind Marie coming, would you?”
Marie looked completely mortified, but I was too stunned myself to reassure her.
“I’m having a wedding party?” I squeaked at him, whilst trying really hard not to jump up and down.
“Yes, but I’m not telling you anything else. Con would kick my arse.”
“I don’t want to know.” I put my hands up. “You guys have done a fantastic job so far and given that I thought I’d be having just a quick Registry Office wedding, I’m happy to go along with everything.”
Letting the groom organise everything would be most bride’s idea of hell. But the thing was, Con always wanted better for me than I wanted for myself.
“Marie, I hardly know anyone here, and it would be great to get to know you better, so if you’d like to come, you’re more than welcome. I have no idea where or when the party is, but if you give Kieran your number he can let you know.”
“I’d like that,” she replied genuinely. Handing him a business card, she confirmed that the boutique’s number and email address were on the card if he’d like to let her know when and where. It was a way of giving Kieran a way to get in touch, whilst still keeping it cool and professional. For someone who was used to women hanging all over him and trying to tattoo him with their numbers, Keiran seemed baffled by her cool indifference. He knew that she was as attracted to him as he was to her, but kudos to her for not giving into him. Kieran needed the chase until her got to know her better. He was O’Connell’s best friend and brother. I wanted for him the same happiness that we’d found.
“Not that this hasn’t been really fun, but can we go now?” Tommy whined.
Marie looked at her diary and booked me in another dress fitting for the day before the wedding so she could do any on the spot alterations at that time.
“Come on then, Tommy, let’s go,” I told him, which earned me a resounding, “yes!” and him a frown from Marie.
We all told her goodbye, and after a few more minutes procrastination from Kieran, left the shop.
“DID YOU GET A GREAT DRESS, BABE?” O’Connell mumbled sleepily as he fell into bed next to me and hauled me up against him.
“I got a beautiful dress. But I feel bad putting Danny to all that expense for a dress I’ll only wear once,” I admitted.
“You bet your arse you’ll only wear it once,” he told me as he rubbed his hands on the outside of my thigh making me smile.
“I thought you were tired?” I told him.
“Sunshine, the day I’m too tired to get hard around you, is the day you get to put me in the ground.”
He pulled me back even harder as he pushed against me, and I groaned. As tired as I was, I couldn’t get enough of this man. Shocking the hell out of him, I flipped over, pushed him on his back and threw my legs over his hips to straddle him. My confidence with sex was growing every day that we were together. He picked me up by the waist, like I weighed nothing at all, and adjusted me so that I was pressed hard against his cock. Sitting up, his mouth latched onto mine, and he speared his hand in my hair, pulling me toward him. With his free hand, he pushed up his t-shirt that I’d commandeered for bed and palmed my breast, scraping the pad of his thumb against my nipple and making me groan.
“Naked. Now,” he commanded caveman style. Flipping me onto the bed, he dragged the t-shirt over my head and my panties down my legs until I was naked and exposed beneath his huge, cut torso. His eyes travelled their way down my body, and like every time we made love, no matter how hot and heavy, his gaze was so reverent I felt like he was worshipping me. I committed every angle and curve of his body to memory, counting my blessings anew that we’d found each other. His dark skin against my pale, his hard body against my softness, his straight dark hair against my wild blond curls, he was my complete opposite in every way, but his soul was the other half of mine. He was the loud to my quiet, the confidence to my shyness, the rage to my pain. Separately, we were broken and alone. Together, we were blissfully happy and complete and every time that we made love was a celebration of that. Right now, and every time that we were together, I felt like I could take on the world. His lust-filled eyes raked themselves over me as he pulled down his boxers. The instant that he was naked and protected, he was inside of me. His thumb gently stroked my nipple as he thrust slowly in and out. The combined sensation sent tremors shooting straight to my core. His dark head replaced his hand, and he pulled my hardened nipple into the warmth of his mouth and tenderly teased it with his tongue. I was so close that I arched my back, pushing my breast deeper into his mouth. I was desperately close to release when he abruptly pulled out and effortlessly flipped me onto my stomach. We’ve never made love like this, and I was nervous but excited. Not being able to see his face added to the anticipation of what he might do next, but I didn’t have to wait long to find out. His touch gently skimmed my thighs, and he parted my legs carefully as he encouraged me up onto my knees.
“I love your arse,” he told me, smoothing his hand over it.
His hand was so close to touching me where I needed it most that a little shiver ran through my body. The anticipation hightened everything, and I felt like I was standing on the edge of the abyss, waiting for O’Connell to grab my hand and pull me in. Sensing my need, he pushed two fingers gently in and out of me, and I cried out. His other hand reached around and thumbed my clit in small circles. It was too much and too deep, and I felt myself climbing that invisible wall, desperately chasing my orgasm. I was almost there when he pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his cock, thrusting hard until he was fully seated inside me. It was too much, and I whimpered, pleading with him to let me come. He pounded into me relentlessly, and I pushed back with every thrust, wanting this as much as he did. I begged that I couldn’t take anymore, when he rubbed one last gentle circle around my clit, and I was done. My orgasm crashed over me in waves that seemed to go on forever and as though my release had triggered something in O’Connell, he covered my breasts with his dark calloused hands and pulled my body hard against his, riding the crest of his own orgasm and filling me with his heat. I collapsed onto the bed, boneless and sated, and he did the same, pulling me into his body.
“I can’t believe I get to do this forever,” he admitted. “Sometimes, I wake up and I see your beautiful hair spread across the pillow, and I think I’ve dreamt you. I’m too scared to go back to sleep, or leave for training, in case you disappear and then I remember that you’re mine, and suddenly it’s a brand new day.”
I didn’t have the words to tell him that I felt the same. If only maths was a language, you could speak, I’d be a poet.
“I love you, O’Connell,” I told him.
“I love you, too, baby.”