Page 105 of Love Felt Like This

It’s then that I finally notice his outfit. I cover my mouth at the sight of his white ankle boots. The baby blue bell-bottom slacks. A matching suit jacket that rests over an open linen shirt, exposing curly brown chest hair. A thin gold chain rests just over his collarbone.

I gasp. “You look like you just stepped out of a Bee Gees music video.”

“Do I?” he asks, pushing back his suit jacket and then tucking his hands into his slacks pockets. He shifts weight onto one foot and grins. My soul absolutely leaves my body.

“I wanted to match you,” he explains. “So you’d be a bit more comfortable tonight.”

A breathless laugh leaves me. “I can’t believe you’d…this is…you look…”

“Silly?”

“No! Just…different. Have you ever worn baby blue a day in your life?”

“Never.” He shrugs, and his gaze levels with mine as he adds, “But who cares what I look like. You are absolutely stunning.”

Stunning.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Greta smacks my hand away.

“Don’t touch it. You’ll mess it up.”

There are a lot of things I’m worried I’ll mess up tonight. There are also a lot of things I shouldn’t touch—Griffin’s gorgeous chest hair, for one.

I’ve made my decision to be here. There’s no turning back now. I need to jump in feet first and have fun.

Fun.

I can have fun without my hand up a puppet, right?

Maybe I’ll do the Bernie Bird voice.

Just once.

People need to know I’m the puppet girl—not the fancy person I’m pretending to be in this dress. But then Griffin smiles, and…suddenly my only job is not to embarrass myself in front of him.

God help me.

Chapter Nineteen

My Beverly

Griffin

I can’t see what’s outside our limo, and I don’t want to. I’m too focused on Beverly, with her heeled feet crossed at the ankles and those slender legs peeking out from the slit in her dress.

Christ, she’s gorgeous.

There’s a low hum of excited voices awaiting us outside, but this limo feels intimate. Less intimidating and crowded. Beverly’s chest rises and falls. I swallow at the same time she does.

“Are you ready?” I ask. Her stare sticks to the window. “B?”

When her eyes finally snap to mine, she nods in affirmation. I hate that the only things I can focus on are her long lashes and that damn collarbone taunting me over the neck of the dress.

E is for effervescent, and her skin glows as the light refracts through the diamonds on her choker. Her neck, for the briefest moment, is wreathed in a shimmering, ethereal rainbow. She’s otherworldly, too good for this world, a visitor gracing me and everyone around with the gift of her presence.

Robin would have hated coming to this event. I wonder if Beverly does too.

“Are you ready?” I ask again.