Joelle Morrow has her focus set on the future. As an up-and-coming lingerie designer, she's overcome multiple setbacks on the road to achieving her dream of opening her own boutique but has yet to be knocked down, leaving her no time to think about...
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There was something to be said about the restraint I had over the following week.
Despite our busy schedules, Seb and I still managed to find a few hours to see each other. He'd dropped in to Apollo's twice after practice, and after he returned from a short road trip, we'd managed to squeeze in a cinema date Friday afternoon before I was scheduled to work.
But we were never alone.
Every time Seb kissed me, whether it was just a peck hello or a proper goodbye, I was brought back to that night on his sofa. The desire I'd felt then always bubbled to the surface, burning through my blood with nowhere to go, and it was frustrating beyond belief. There were plenty of nights where I laid in bed, alone and unable to fall asleep, wanting nothing more than to call him to come over, but I could never find the right words.
On Saturday, however, those concerns were shuffled to the back of my mind.
"So?" Aimee quirked a brow in the mirror, running her hands over the skirt of the dress. "What do you guys think?"
"You look gorgeous."
Mrs. Fournier sniffled, nodding in agreement as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "Oh, my baby." Turning to face us, Aimee chewed on her bottom lip, containing the grin threatening to escape. "You look absolutely beautiful."
"I do, don't I?" Aimee asked, laughing joyfully as she turned back towards the mirror. Hands on her hips as she admired the dress, she couldn't stop smiling. "I think this is the one."
After sitting in a downtown bridal boutique for more than three hours with Aimee's mom, I couldn't agree more. We'd watched her parade in and out of the dressing room in countless styles, but none of them had elicited the same reaction this dress did. Strapless with a lace overlay, it hugged her figure tightly before flaring out beneath her hips. It wasn't too simple and wasn't over the top, falling somewhere in the middle, and perfect for Aimee's big day.
"I still can't believe you're getting married," Mrs. Fournier said, shaking her head in disbelief as Aimee retreated behind the curtains to change.
"I mean, with Jack we all knew it was only a matter of time," I pointed out.
She nodded, her mouth curving upwards. "Ever since that first night Aimee brought him home, I knew he was the one."
"Really?" Aimee asked, poking her head out between the curtains. "Because all I remember about that night is the hours you and dad spent grilling him. I thought he'd never want to see me again."
"I remember that," I mused. "You wouldn't let me leave the apartment all weekend because you were worried the next time your phone rang, Jack was going to be on the line wanting to call things off."
"I may have been a bit too on edge about it," Aimee admitted, slinking out of sight to get dressed while continuing to speak, "but if you'd been at dinner, you would've known how bad it was." Stepping out of the dressing room, she playfully narrowed her gaze, looking straight at her mom. "I definitely remember dad asking him how he expected to make a life out of hockey, and you wanting to know how he made time for me while he was traveling across the country every week."
