She could live with the name. Of course she could. She’d be sad to say goodbye to Winter, though, because Megan Rose Winter had a nice ring to it. But she’d used the name Winter to set up her beloved shoe design business a few years before, so if she looked at it like that, she wasn’t really giving up her name. She’d still have it, and still use it on a daily basis. The only difference would be that her driving licence and bank account would say Dunkin-Buckshaw. But what did that matter? Who ever saw a person’s licence or bank account? Well, Dylan would see her bank account now. He’d said they’d pool their cash once married—apparently that was what couples did after tying the knot.

“Are you sure you’re not going for the red?” Brendon held up her scarlet MAC lipstick. It was her favourite, the only one she wore. But today she’d decided not to. Today she was going for nude gloss.

“No.” She shook her head. “Dylan doesn’t really like it. He says it’s…” She paused, remembering the conversation.

“What?” Georgie fussed with a tendril of Megan’s hair that had escaped. “What does he say?”

“Yes, tell us?” Brendon added with a frown. “I’m curious now.”

“He thinks it’s a bit tarty.”

Georgie gasped and shook her head. “No!”

Brendon slapped his hand over his mouth and widened his eyes.

“He said that?” Georgie asked. “He actually, really and truly said that?”

Megan shrugged. It was no big deal. He was entitled to have an opinion.

“But you’ve worn that shade for years.” Brendon tutted. “It’s so…you. It’s your signature lippy.”

“And it suits you so well, highlights the pretty shape of your mouth,” Georgie added.

“Thank you, but it’s just for today.”

“Are you sure?” Brendon asked. “Because if you never wear it again I’ll be heartbroken. In fact, I may as well just lie down here right now and die.” He gestured to the four-poster bed then made a show of falling back onto it. He threw his arms over his face. “Oh, goodbye to the scarlet lips that we know and love. How can I go on?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s only lipstick.” Megan laughed. “Come on. Help me with the dress.”

Georgie glanced at her iPhone. “Yes, you should get dressed. Time is ticking away. The bells will soon be ringing.”

Megan stood. Her stomach was heavy even though she hadn’t been able to eat that morning. Nerves, most likely. This was, after all, the biggest day of her life—or so she’d been told. If she wasn’t nervous there’d be something wrong with her, right? If there were no butterflies swarming she’d be abnormal. Every bride had this sensation, she’d read about it, seen it in movies.