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As she slid into the tights that her brother had asked her to wear, she sucked in a breath and yanked them up. They were practically a second layer of skin and would leave nothing to the imagination. Literally nothing.
Breathing shallowly in case she tore them, she glanced around her office in her parents’ flower shop, which was another reminder that she’d always chosen the safe route as opposed to the road less traveled. When she was a child, she’d wanted to be an author, but the second she realized that it was an uncertain job with unrealistic salary expectations, she’d instead opted to become an accountant and after graduation had taken over management of her parents’ shop.
Under her management, Thomas Flowers was booming, and for the first time ever, they were showing a bigger profit than when they’d first opened in 2001. It had been her idea to add singing telegrams to the menu of things offered, a decision she wholly regretted right now, thank you very much.
She slid the top over her head and tugged on it until it covered her stomach. It was even tighter than the pants, if that was possible. When she glanced down, her eyes bugged out because holy frigging cleavage. She cupped her breasts, laughing uneasily. She always wore sensible necklines and never let her boobs hang out, but then again, they’d never looked like this.
Maybe she’d been wearing the wrong clothes all this time.
“Thank you, corsets,” she muttered, turning and checking out her ass, too. “Whoa.”
Then she smiled because when Caleb saw her in this outfit, he was going to have a heart attack. He’d always been an overprotective brother, so this would kill him. Maybe it made her petty to want her revenge, but whatever.
At least she’d be petty with some amazing boobs.
After sliding into the skirt, she took her hair out of its usual bun and fluffed it with her fingers, hoping it went with what had to be a sexy Halloween costume that teenaged girls wore to get laid by some hot college boys. Not that she knew what that was like. She’d only ever had sex with her ex, and it hadn’t been that exciting. In her opinion, she hadn’t been missing much in that department while she’d put her life on hold.
In fact, she didn’t miss it at all.
“Maybe sex has gotten better these past four years,” she muttered. After one last glance at her cleavage, she opened the door and came walking out. “Okay, off I go.”
Caleb’s reaction was immediate. “What the hell is that?”
“What?” she asked, somehow managing to hide her smile as she glanced down at her body. Shrugging, she picked up the balloons, all of which either said Good Luck, or Congratulations. “It’s the outfit you picked for me.”
“The hell I did,” he growled, coming out from behind the counter. “Take it off right now, or I swear to motherfuck—”
“Language!” their father said, again appearing out of nowhere.
How did he do that?
Caleb gestured toward Kassidy. “Have you seen her?”
Her father lowered his inventory sheet and frowned. “Why are you dressed like that and carrying balloons?”
“I lost a bet,” she said drily. “I have to go sing to a customer.”
“God help him,” her dad muttered, crossing himself.
“Nice.”
“Who cares about that? She’s practically naked,” Caleb hissed. “You win. I’ll do it. Go get changed.”
Kassidy grabbed the door handle, which she’d backed up to while he’d been freaking out. “I can’t. A deal’s a deal, right?”
With that, she pushed outside and took off for her car. Her smile didn’t fade…until an old guy stepped into her path with cold eyes and a smirk as he looked her up and down, weighing her worth as if she were an object instead of a human.
He whistled at her through his teeth, giving her a once-over, and then a twice-over, and a thrice-over…if that was a thing. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m buying.”
“I’m not selling anything.”
“Well, you should be,” he said, leering at her.
Cheeks hot, she stepped around him and slid into her car, immediately locking the doors. After shoving all the balloons into the backseat, she glanced at the address on the paper. Some dude named Brett Ross was the person responsible for her debacle.
Him and Wyatt Hamilton’s stupid arm.
Rolling her eyes, she punched the address into the GPS and then frowned when she realized it was an affluent neighborhood just outside of town. Great. Just great. Not only did she get to make a fool out of herself, but she got to do it in front of some rich girl who would laugh about it later with her equally rich friends. Brett Ross probably ordered these balloons for his rich girlfriend who had amazing hair and even more amazing shoes.
