Page 49 of Broken Vows

“Wow, this is a… nice surprise,” I say, although it’s actually a terrible one. “I didn’t know you’d be coming here. In fact, you shouldn’t be as it’s bad luck.”

“I figured it’d be a lot of pressure to find the right dress for Anna without a second opinion from the one who knows her best.”

I hate when he has a point.

“Let’s get started, shall we? Why don’t you two have a look at the displays and let me know if you need any help.” The woman walks away, leaving me and Theo alone in this too-quiet space.

We fall into quiet concentration, combing through the options as the tension that hit me when I first saw Theo slowly dissipates.

I scoop out a dress to hang on a hook for a better view. “I heard you talked to my mom yesterday.” Yes, I’m absolutely prodding for intel because my mom didn’t offer much. The morning after her urgent care visit, she mentioned how Theo stopped by the aftercare unit after reviewing her labs. Turns out that she was dehydrated, severely deficient in Vitamin D, and had developed hypothyroidism along with a nasty ear infection. All unpleasant, but thankfully nothing life-threatening. Yesterday was her follow-up appointment. And no matter how many questions I fired at her, she remained tightlipped.

“You know even if I did, I can’t tell you,” he says. “Patient–doctor confidentiality.”

“Seriously?”

“I take my doctor oath very seriously,” he says, not joking.

I pull out another dress, but I’ve lost focus. Finally, I let out a shaky breath. “I, um, I didn’t properly thank you for last week,” I say, glossing over the fact of why I didn’t thank him. I catch his eye. “Really. My mom is my everything, and what you did for her…”

I feel the beginning of a tremble in my chin and I suck my lips into my mouth. He inches towards me and lays both hands on my shoulders, dipping his head to catch my gaze. “It’s nothing, Lexie. It’s the equivalent of what you’re doing, right now, as part of your job.”

It’s so much more, and I think he knows. I’ve been trying to separate the pieces that make up Theo. He’s like a fucked-up divinity triangle. Three separate entities all captured within the same person. Theo—the guy I’m sitting with right now making me blush. Theo—Annabelle’s fiancé. Theo—the devil I’m determined to destroy.

A soft grin forms and he gives my shoulders a friendly squeeze before he drops his touch.

“But you’ll have to talk to your mom about The Bachelorette season six. She is very, very wrong on who she thinks should’ve been the winner.”

I smile and continue swiping through dresses. I soon discover that Theo and I have surprisingly similar tastes. Simple lines, minimal fabric, A-frame. I tug out another dress and stand back, eyeing the cut.

Theo steps behind me. “Since you’re on the clock, I want you to try some of these on.”

“Ah. No. That’s a hard pass.”

He lifts a brow. “It wasn’t a question.”

I feel heat warm my cheeks. “I’m not trying on dresses. Annabelle and I are totally different sizes, it’s after five, it’ll take hours, and I’d really like you to revisit my first statement that it’s a hard fucking pass.”

He stays silent.

“Look,” I say, gritting my teeth, because really? “I will do a lot of things for you guys. Getting into a wedding dress is not on that list.”

He crosses his arms. And stares. “Do I need to let Sydney know you’re refusing to help your client?”

“And do I need to remind you that you sound like a little bitch when you threaten to whine to my boss?” I hate that a smile cracks through. “God you’re the worst. Truly.”

He glances behind me and his lips quirk into a very slow, very diabolic grin. “On that note… I think you start with that one.”

When he points behind me, I turn and my mouth drops. “You cannot be serious.”

He slides back, his grin growing even wider. “Oh, I’m very serious.” Then he shouts out for the shop assistant’s help, explaining that there’s been a change of plan.

“Which one do you want to see first?” she asks.

Theo’s eyes glint with trouble. “You have such an extraordinary collection, that it’s hard to know which to choose. But, I think we start with that one.”

The woman’s face brightens—no doubt at the dollar signs attached to the dress. “Wonderful choice. Lexie, why don’t you get into the dressing room. There’s a robe on the hanger, and I’ll be right in.”

Twenty minutes later, after a lot of tugging, scratches, and a few swear words, I take a long look in the floor-length mirror. Dear God, it’s hideous. With so much puff, tulle, and fabric, I look like a twelve-tiered wedding cake. When I step out of the room lugging this fifty-pound monstrosity, a very irritating twinkle flashes in Theo’s eyes.