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“Yes, because your mom is smart and knows they were idiots. That’s insane, Angie.” She stands up, coming toward me. “Did you know that the average size of a woman right now in the US is a size sixteen to eighteen? You’re a sixteen at your height. You are the wet dream of all men.”

I look away. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not. Google it. I swear it’s true,” she promises, and when she reaches me, she takes the dress down from the door before looking me in the eye. “We’re the same size, but I’m about a half foot shorter than you. And guess what? I would wear that dress right now. Wanna know why? Because I want to. Because I think this dress is hot, and it’s super hot on you. Do you like the dress?”

I swallow thickly. “I do.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

I press my lips together as I look at the dress. “You don’t think Owen will be embarrassed by me?”

She snorts. “Honey, the only thing he’s gonna be embarrassed by is the boner he’ll be sporting the whole night being with you.” My face breaks into a grin as she hands me the dress. “Trust me, Angie. Or hell, trust yourself. Trust the part way deep inside you that knows you’re perfect just the way you are because you’re happy.”

I take the dress without much thought as I hold her gaze. “I am happy.”

“You are and so damn gorgeous.”

I swallow hard once more, thankful the lump has disappeared. I slide my fingers over the fabric and force myself to remember how I looked and felt in it yesterday. I felt beautiful, hot, and chubby sexy, as Owen loves to call me.

But most of all, I loved myself in that dress.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Owen

* * *

I’m ready to see my girl.

It’s been a long, agonizing eleven days without her. I pretty much miss every single thing possible about her. Name it, and I miss it, because I miss her. Her whole damn gorgeous Angie package. As I head to her place, my dad is giving me details as my mom rambles them to him.

“Don’t be late,” he says very directly. “It costs money if you keep them waiting. Also, make sure you tip everyone. You got cash?”

“Yeah, Dad. I do.”

“Make sure he thanks everyone too,” Mom says in the background, and I roll my eyes.

“She does know I’m not five and have manners, right?”

“Apparently not,” Dad says dryly. “Evan is already there setting up and making sure everything is perfect.”

“Cool. I’ll shoot him a text when we land.”

“Good. I left my truck there for you. The keys are behind the right rear wheel.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“No problem. Bring her by if you guys have time.”

I shake my head. “She’s all kinds of skittish and weird. You’ll have to give me some more time.”

Dad laughs. “Sounds like someone I once dated and then married and then had you with.”

“Dad, you could have just said, ‘That sounds like your mom,’” I tease him, and he laughs some more.

“Sure, but that way is way more fun and gets me a chilly look from your mom.”

“You two are insane. I’ll talk to you later,” I say as I pull up in front of Angie’s house. “I gotta get my girl.”

Dad’s chuckle lets me know he knows I’m sprung. “All right, be safe.”

“Will do. Love you.”

“Love you,” he says as I hang up and throw my phone onto the passenger seat. I look in the mirror, making sure my hair is in place and my tie is straight. I know it’s not our first date, but it almost feels like it is. It feels new and exciting, though I don’t think that feeling has changed since I met Angie. I push the truck door open and get out, adjusting myself before smoothing out my slacks. I fix my watch on my wrist and shut the door, but I’m not expecting to see her when I look up.

It’s a moment I know I’ll never forget.

Because it’s the moment I know I’m fully in love with Angela Paxton.

I suck in a sharp breath as I take her in. Her hair is down in wide curls, and her bangs are straight across her forehead, resting on her black glasses. Her makeup is done in a way I’ve never seen her wear it, all dramatic, and it makes her eyes pop. But none of that really matters when I get to the dress she’s wearing. I fully expected a dress—I asked for one—but this girl, fucking hell, I think she’s trying to kill me. The black fabric hugs her curves, showing them off in all the right ways. It crosses at the neck, making an upside-down heart shape that exposes the skin between her breasts, and it stops mid-thigh. Her legs are toned, thick, and with her high heels that have ribbons wrapping around her ankles in a bow, I’m left breathless, speechless, and my mouth is dry as fuck.

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