Page 70 of Worth the Shot

My eyes move to his face, catching the way his jaw tightens in concentration as he watches the numbers climb. He runs a hand through his hair, distracted, then glances over just enough to catch me staring.

He smiles at me softly, then winks, and the butterflies come so fast they make me shiver. When the pump clicks, he puts it back and, instead of getting in, opens the back door. He starts gathering everything within reach—empty bottles, crumpled wrappers, old coffee cups.

“Gimme those,” he says, nodding toward the front.

I grab what I can and hand it over, watching as he takes it all without hesitation, tosses it, then comes back for the scrubs. He folds them into a neat stack and sets them on the back seat before finally sliding into the driver’s side.

“Good as new,” he says, a little proud. “Now you have a clean car and a full tank.”

“And a full heart,” I say, reaching across to touch his perfect, beautiful face. He grabs my hand, pressing it firmer against his cheek as his eyes flicker to my mouth. “I’m so lucky. Thank you, Brennan.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” he says and then he leans in, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Now let’s go shopping.”

As soon as we pull up to the shop, I notice the lot is empty. Before I can say anything, he’s already opening my door.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says, reaching for my hand as I step out. “I may have called and let them know we were coming.”

“Brennan, I don’t need all of⁠—”

“I know,” he cuts in gently. “I know you’re perfectly capable of driving yourself here, pumping your own gas, cleaning out your own car.” He wraps my hand around the back of his neck, guiding the other up with it. Then he leans in, pressing his forehead to mine. “I know you don’t need anything, Laney,” he says, quieter now. “But it makes me happy to do these things for you. It always will. Because you deserve it. All of it and then some.”

Hey, God? Are you listening? It’s me, Delaney. I’m not sure how you did it, but thank you.

We step inside, and the dresses hit me all at once—each one somehow more beautiful than the last. My eyes scan the room before landing on a dark red gown displayed on a mannequin across the space. I drift toward it without thinking, Brennan trailing close behind, and the second I stop in front of it, a cheerful voice cuts in.

“We just got that one in,” she boasts. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“Stunning,” I breathe, turning to face her.

“Would you like to try it on?”

“She absolutely would,” Brennan says, cutting in with a wink.

The woman smiles and leads us toward the back, where a row of dressing rooms sits amongst a wall of mirrors. She gestures to one, and I step inside.

“You go ahead and take a seat,” she says, pointing to the chair. “I’ll grab that dress—and a few others I think you’ll like. Just let me know your size.”

By the time she comes back, she’s carrying four dresses in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. She hangs the dresses inside the room, then pops the cork and sets the bottle on the small table just outside.

She disappears for a moment, then returns with two flutes, pouring us each a glass before stepping back.

“Thank you so much,” I say, not entirely sure how to act like any of this is normal.

She smiles and steps toward the dresses, walking me through each one.

Brennan sits just outside the dressing room, relaxed, watching it all like he’s just lucky to be a part of this.

She helps me into the first dress, a strapless navy one with a sweetheart neckline. It hugs in all the right places, and it’s pretty—just not me. Brennan’s eyes practically pop out of his head anyway, muttering something under his breath about needing a cold shower.

The next one is another red dress, and the second it’s zipped, I realize it’s so tight I can barely breathe. I stare at myself in the mirror for a second, then shake my head.

“Yeah, no. I’d like to enjoy the night and also oxygen.”

Behind me, Brennan lets out a quiet laugh. “Fair.”

I glance at him in the mirror. “Also, I plan on eating. So this feels unrealistic.”

The next dress isn’t me at all, so I decide to skip straight to the dark red gown. The second the saleslady zips me up, I know it's my dress.