It was perfect.
“Aw, come on,” Rachel whined. “You’re going out with the hottest baseball player in the major leagues. He’s bringing a limo. Live it up, will you? How about this?” She held up a short, flirty dress made of gold lamé.
I rolled my eyes and headed for the shower with her black dress.
She responded by grabbing a pair of three-inch gold stilettos. “You can’t wear sneakers with that dress, sissy,” she taunted. “Thank God we’re nearly the same size.”
Same size, yes. But we had completely different proportions. Rachel was two inches taller and statuesque. I was two inches bustier and had hips that could make a fortune in the roller derby. Especially since I spent my spare time trying out recipes I’d seen on TV. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and so I showered and dressed as fast as I could, only to mourn the view in the mirror.
“I’ve gotten fatter,” I said. I glanced at my sister. “I’ve been trying out dessert challenges from this website I like.”
My sister blew out a whistle. “You’ve gottencurvierand you look hot. Now tell me all about these desserts while I do your makeup.”
“Not a chance in hell.” She’d have me looking like a runway model for…whatever über-dramatic fashion designer was in vogue right now. Was it sad that I couldn’t even think of one? “What other dresses have you got?”
“None. You’re wearing that. Now let’s talk accessories.”
An hour later, we were fighting traffic to get back to my parents’ house where Mom and Dad were trying not to be obvious with their cameras. I felt like I was going to the prom again, and damn if it wasn’t a little bit exciting. And exasperating. I mean, I was a grown woman, right? Why would I be sitting in my parents’ living room wondering if I remembered how to walk in stilettos? And yet here I was, and my heart was thumping triple time in my throat. I settled myself by mentally listing all the ways a good ER nurse could calm a panicked patient down.
I’d just managed to do it, too, when my mom let out an excited squeal.
“Here he is!”
My father peered out the kitchen window. “Nice limo.”
Momtsked. “Forget the car, Bob. Look at the tux!”
My panicked gaze shot to Rachel as I mouthed, “Tux?”
She grinned. “Bet you’re wishing for those sequins now, huh?”
“No,” I growled. “I’m thinking I should have stayed in Indy!”
“Too late,” she crowed as she hauled me to my feet, then in rapid succession adjusted my neckline (lower), bra placement (higher), and the length of the skirt (way too high). I slapped her hands away right when the doorbell rang.
Mom answered it before I could stop her. Fortunately, I was in the living room hidden from view by a recliner and a large lamp. I heard Mom gush the usual stuff: “Aren’t you handsome? And what a game you had today!”
I glanced over at Rachel in a panic. I mean, I knew they’d won, but I’d been getting ready so I hadn’t actually watched the game. Fortunately, my dad had. He picked up the slack.
“Nice backhanded stop on that double play. But I was sure you were safe at first in the fifth inning.”
“Umps are blind,” Jake answered, his voice a low rumble that slid down my spine in all the best ways. “But at least they’re evenly blind. I couldn’t believe Connor made that catch in the sixth. It kept us in the game.”
“Oh stop, you two,” Mom chided. “There’s more to life than baseball. Now come in, come in. Ellie’s here and waiting.”
Jesus, if this were any more like a prom date, I’d be descending the stairs while Dad shot pictures. It was time to assert some adulthood. Taking a split second to tug my skirt a little lower, I stepped into the hallway and stopped cold.
I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. Years ago, my prom date had arrived sweating bullets in an ill-fitting tux. Not Jake.
First, no sweat.
Second, his tux fit like a dream and emphasized every mouthwatering inch of him—broad shoulders, muscular torso, trim hips. I hadn’t seen the back side yet, but I’d seen him in his uniform. I knew his butt was one of his best features.
Third, he was carrying a dozen roses, which he handed off to my mother.
Wait…my mother?
“These are for you, Mrs. McDonald.” He glanced over to Rachel. “I’ve sent another dozen to you at your loft, since I know this date wouldn’t be happening without your help.”
