A pact between best friends and one stress-relieving tryst that turns into two…three…whatever. It’s a wedding—who's counting? I don’t want it to end, but I’m supposed to land the powerful New York attorney hand-selected by my father. I think I’m in love with the wrong guy. Sweet mother—now what? Readers who enjoy reads with golden retriever heroes will love Bridesmaid to Bride by Terra Weiss, a steamy, friends to lovers, forbidden romance, romantic comedy.
So one tiny tryst with your BFF turns into two...three...whatever.
It's a wedding—who's counting?
It's my twin sister's live, televised circus...I mean wedding, and my BFF, West Quinn and I make a pact: I help him become next season's reality dating TV star, and he helps me land the rich, powerful, and connected suit my father's hand-selected.
Easy, right?
Actually, it is. West and I make a great team, as always—he'a a brilliant techie with an off-the-wall sense of humor. We sneak away for one tiny stress-relieving tryst...that turns into two...that turns into a craze. Hello, mind-blowing!
But it's all in good fun. Dad would have a second heart attack if I ended up with West and not the New York attorney poised to join me in taking over my family's firm.
Ugh—I don't want this pact to end, and it's not just about the help. West accepts me. Is always there for me. Encourages me to follow my passion for baking.
Oh, God. I think I'm in love with the wrong guy! It's too late, not to mention that West and I can never happen.
Sweet mother—now what?
*Bridesmaid to Bride is a witty, heartfelt interconnected stand-alone romcom with adult language and steamy, open-door chemistry that will have you rooting for a happily-ever-after.
A massive jolt sends a few pieces of luggage crashing out of the overhead bin. The engine revs as the plane tips sideways, and the loose suitcases go rogue. Then, we’re nose up again.
Screams echo through the cabin.
I grip my phone so it doesn’t fly away, then sit in agonizing disbelief. I’m going to die young, just like my mother. Except I can’t! I just got Dad to agree to let me work for his New York law firm remotely so I can stay in Atlanta. I’ve been a major screw-up over the last few years, at least in his eyes, and I’ve finally got my shit together. And there’s so many things on my bucket list! “I’ve never had a three-way,” I say, clearly no longer in control of what’s spilling out of my mouth. “I haven’t tried a space dunk Oreo!”
The oxygen masks fall, and a symphony of screams and gasps echo through the plane.
I’m only twenty-nine! Skye, my psychic ex-stepmom, said I’d die at ninety-two.
Wait. Ninety-two, twenty-nine. Did she get the numbers reversed? Shit!
The motor chugs, stops. More plummeting, more screams. Confessions rush out of my mouth like lava. “I stole a lemon pop cake when I was five! My bag’s a knockoff!”
After a thunderous grinding sound, my seatmate says, “That was just the landing gear.”
“Why bother?” I bark through chattering teeth. I know I’m going to die someday, but like this? They’re going to have to pressure wash me off the runway!
The plane goes vertical. West Quinn, my BFF, flashes through my mind. He and I were inseparable for two and a half years, and he clearly wanted a relationship with me. But I was afraid of ruining my favorite friendship, shoulder to lean on, and confidante. Then, he went on Bridesmaid to Bride, a reality show that ends in a proposal, featuring my twin sister Paige, which caused a rift between us because, hello, he dated my sister—well, kind of. Worse, he kissed her. He left the show immediately after the smooch because he swore he felt nothing, and I believe him, which went a long way to repair things between us. But still—it’s weird. Since West became tight with the guy Paige picked, he’s the best man this weekend. And I’m the maid of honor, so we’re all here together. Perfect.
We head deep into another free fall that takes my stomach with it. I glance back to see our only flight attendant tightly strapped into her seat, chugging down two nip-sized bottles of Tito’s.
That’s when I know.
We’re toast.
I send a group text to everyone telling them how much I love them. Then, I punch out a text to West.
Me: Plane in jeopardy
My fingers take control.
Me: I want to kiss your face off.
After I hit send, I squeeze my eyes shut and get into crash position, a waste of time, I know, since we’re probably about to explode into a ball of fire. But the aircraft safety card gave these instructions, and come heaven or hell, Eva Steinberg follows instructions. I’m ready. I’m bracing. I’m waiting. Pre-death is feeling peaceful, smoother, as if—
I crack an eye and realize the plane has leveled off. What the…?
Hope hangs in the tension-filled air, everyone frozen, as if moving a muscle will break the spell.
The wheels touch the ground like the tarmac is made of butter. We decelerate at a pleasant pace before coming to a gentle stop. Claps and cheers roar out.
So, I’m not going to die.
“Dammit,” I mumble under my breath. I just told my BFF that I want to kiss his face off.
Terra Weiss is a romcom author with a knack for witty banter and gift for capturing authentic family dynamics. Readers love how her stories steer away from typical romcom cookie-cutter formulas and show how real-life people find real-life love.
When Terra's not spilling the tea on what happens in the big and small towns that live in her heart, you'll find her with her spunky daughter, mad scientist husband, wacky and wonderful mother, and the two six-pound dogs that run her house. She enjoys jogging at a snail's pace, reading from her iPhone, and piling bright orange mountains of squeezy cheese on her crackers.
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