“Most of the dresses May thinks would be suitable wouldn’t survive five minutes on me. Lace and blood are not friends.” Tybalt sighed. “Are you so determined to bleed on our wedding day?” “No, but I’m also a realist, and blood is going to happen,” I said. There was a breadbasket on the other side of the flowers. I pulled it toward me. If this was a dinner date, I was going to have a pretzel roll. “I mean, at least we know no one’s going to kill me with a little casual stabbing.”
