Stacy and I were surprised at the casual attire of the other guests who piled on in to the Methodist Church. Every wedding we had attended was a gala, a decadent affair that called for formal wear and the latest fashion trends. Several of the guests were wearing jeans, and we felt ridiculous! We panicked, turning around to leave when the Sorenson twins appeared. Smiling, they towered over us, arms folded as if to say "Where do you think your going?" They gently removed our coats and had us spin around to model our gowns before escorting us into the church. The blood red carpet complimented our attire. Eyes followed us; we must have made an impression, the four of us waltzing down the aisle. The Sorenson brothers wore kakis and odd, outdated blazers with wrinkled white cotton shirts underneath. They looked carelessly sexy.
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