“Do you have anything specific you want to plan for your wedding night? Some special tradition of your own when you give yourself to him?”
Marie spluttered at Brenna’s line of questioning.
“Mon Dieu.” She grinned. “Look at her.” She thrust her hands in my direction, encouraging Brenna to take all of me in. I was suddenly uncomfortable with the scrutiny as I fought the urge to shift in my seat.
“She is a woman that is well loved.” Marie declared, and I wondered if I somehow had a neon sign that screamed to the world that Dimitri and I had sex, regularly.
“I know that!” Brenna snapped. “I’m simply asking her if she wants to do something specific on her wedding night, I mean the night that they get married is still special.”
My cheeks burned hot as they both turned towards me expectantly. “Um, no.” It was all I could offer under the awkward circumstances, but Brenna didn’t seem to miss a beat as her gaze returned to the paper before her as she pressed my answer into the pages. Marie simply grinned at me, allowing the conversation to take it’s natural course, steering towards designer dresses and weather predictions.
The breakfast stretched for two hours, and by the time we were done, Brenna had a full plan laid out with a rough draft of a time-line attached.