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“Well, you’re an amazing teacher.”
I feel the blush creep up my neck at her compliment. “I try. Anyway, what all do we have to get today?”
“Not a lot. Patience and my mom have taken care of so much already, but there’s a few things I didn’t want their help with,” she says, slowing down as we approach the city to maintain the speed limit.
“Like?” I ask, curiously.
She glances my way and blushes a deep shade of red. “I need some lingerie. For our wedding night.”
“Oh.” I’m beaming with excitement. “Are we going to that cute boutique where Ellie got her stuff for her wedding night and honeymoon?”
Blair nods. “She told me they have a maternity section. I really hope so. I don’t want to look like a beached whale trying to fit into something that’s not designed for her growing body.”
“You’ll be breathtaking in anything, as long as I don’t picture the man appreciating you to be my brother.”
She barks out a laugh as she nears an intersection and turns on her blinker. It only takes a few turns before we’re pulling into the boutique parking lot and stopping in the first available spot. “They really should have maternity parking spots,” she says, slipping out of her SUV and shutting the door.
I come around the back of the vehicle. “Agreed.”
We make our way to the sidewalk and to the glass door with the Honey Rose logo. The pieces displayed in the windows are tasteful, like nightgowns and satin robes, but the moment we step inside, there’s pieces for every shape, style, and spice level. “Wow,” I mumble as we both pause inside the door, almost a little overwhelmed with where to start.
“Hello and welcome to Honey Rose. I’m Rose, the owner. How may I help you?”
“Umm, I’m getting married in a few weeks and am looking for something for my wedding night,” Blair says, looking around at the variety of lingerie.
“Oh, congratulations.”
“We also have a baby on the way, which might complicate things a bit,” Blair says, placing her hand on her protruding belly.
“Not at all. We have a beautiful maternity line that should suit your needs. Follow me,” she replies with a pleasant smile.
We walk to the right, past a section of red and black pieces that leave very little to the imagination. “The line is called Blush, and it’s designed to accommodate a woman’s growing body,” she informs us, pulling a delicate pink bra and panty set from the display. “Their products were designed by expecting women with a lot going into the comfort of each piece. There’s just enough stretch in the material without feeling like it’s cutting into your skin. There is a wider range of sizes with this line, since no two expecting women’s bodies are alike.”
“Oh, look at this,” Blair says, turning her attention to a stunning white nightgown hanging on a mannequin. It has spaghetti straps that are adjustable and a lace-covered bodice. The satin begins directly below the breasts and hangs perfectly around the mannequin’s pregnant belly, the hem hitting mid-thigh.
“This is one of the new pieces in their fall catalogue. Isn’t it stunning? The straps cross at the back, and you can pair it with any of the matching white panties in a variety of styles,” Rose states, pulling several pairs of panties from the basket beside the mannequin.
She checks out a few of the varieties and settles on a pair of white lace boyshort briefs. “What do you think?”
“My brother is going to lose his mind,” I tell her honestly.
Blair grins from ear to ear. “I agree.”
“Let me know what size of teddy, and I can take this up to the front counter for you,” Rose says, pulling the medium size from the rack when Blair requests that size. “If you’d like to try it on, you’re welcome. We just ask you leave your own panties on while trying anything intimate on.”
“Of course. I’d like to look around for a few minutes,” Blair replies.
Rose nods. “Take your time, and if you have any questions or need help, just holler.”
“Thank you.”
When the owner of the boutique walks away, I lean toward Blair and whisper, “Is it weird I had no idea they had pregnant mannequins?”
“Me either,” she replies with a giggle. “Oh, what do you think of this?”
I glance her way, and the moment I do, I spot a long, light pink nightgown on the far wall. “That’s pretty.” My feet are already carrying me toward the piece that caught my eye.
It’s a shimmery, silky material and goes to the ankle with a long slit up the side. The top has ruching around the breasts in a simple, yet elegant way I find classy. It’s a stunning piece, and I bet any man who sees his woman wearing this would fall to his knees and worship the ground she walks on.
