“You’re stuck with me now since my clothing has been moved in here,” I told Timothy, while watching him zip up his trousers. He was definitely ahead of me in the dressing game, because I’d just slipped on some undergarments and was still searching for the shoes that matched the dress Simone had selected for me.
The moment I found the matching shoes, a pair of flats that were also in a creamy rose-color with a bit of Italian leather flare, I slipped them on. Of course they fit perfectly.
Timothy, in spite of my speed of selection, crowded into the closet with me. The Walk-in wardrobe was big, but not that big, yet who could complain about a sexy man curling himself around their semi-naked flesh? And then there were all those kisses and sweet whisperings.
Who knows what would have happened then, except Andrew knocked on the room’s outer door. “The guests are getting restless,” Timothy’s best friend said. “Cara, especially. She has been demanding wedding cake for some time now. When are you two coming out?”
Like being hit by a cold shower, we followed up with one final kiss, then Timothy was helping me don my dress, an A-line, rose-colored short sleeve with a V-neck that was a bit skimpy on length but did marvelous things for my figure. It looked bridal, yet was comfortable to move in, something I mentally thanked Simone for. She really knew what I liked.
Needless to say, the neckline perfectly accommodated the necklace, giving the dress just the right richness to soar me into elegance via the perfect simplicity of the dress plus the sophistication of what Timothy had called one Celtic flowered knot with a rhodonite center, and herringbone chain of sparkle.
I guess I should have started on my hair earlier. It had fallen down from the stylish upsweep that the ladies had given me and was probably looking like a ratty pile of used mop. Timothy took the brush from me and began the process of hair taming. He was good with hair styling. Actually he was good at everything. I guess hundreds of years gave one adequate time to become proficient in a variety of areas.
After my mop was deemed suitable, we headed out the door.
“Normally I’d say it was about time, but under the circumstances . . .” Simone said, laughing, as she inserted her arm in mine. “Are you pookaed?” she whispered into my ear.
I nodded rather shyly. In all our official consummation ceremony, Timothy and I hadn’t really had time to talk much about the pooka stuff. I guessed there’d be lots of time later for that. But it was evident that Simone knew all the intricacies.
“Am I officially supernatural now?” I whispered to my husband who was walking on the other side of me.