QUINN POV
If I hear one more question about color schemes, I’m going to shoot myself. What the f**k is a tulle? When I asked Paris to marry me a month ago, I thought she would handle all of this nonsense. Now there are wedding magazines and material swatches all over my house. I can’t very well tell her anything, pretty soon this will be our place. I just hope she doesn’t intend on painting my walls pink or some other flowery color. We don’t plan to get married for another two years. Is all this really necessary? Every day after work, all I hear from her is question after question about the wedding. “Do you have a date in mind?” She asks while pushing her red hair out of her face. “Two years from now.” Maybe reminding her will get her to cool it. She narrowed her eyes at me and threw the
