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“A dress for a cocktail reception. Something in her fav—”
“Say no more!” Milla clasped her hands together, excitedly. “I know exactly what you want. In fact, I’ve been saving it for Liv when she comes in next. Just arrived two days ago. It’s a one-off sample and happens to be her size and her favorite color—blue. The regional buyer sent it here specifically so I could get it in front of Liv.”
Milla rushed off to the backroom. Tristan surveyed the selection of shoes, but he wasn’t well-versed in pairings for women. When he dated, he sent flowers, not Prada. But he wanted something special for Liv. Since he’d committed to being in John’s wedding with her, she was pretty much all he could think about—that, and what had happened five years ago when she’d phoned to say she was in Paris for one night only.
How difficult would it be for you guys to break free and hop the train to join me for brunch? she’d asked.
Brunch with bottomless mimosas had turned into a scenic trek along the artistic Rive Gauche, the Left Bank of the Seine, stopping at cafés for more champagne and charcuterie. Which then led to the prospect of touring the Louvre with VIP passes Liv had been given, but when they’d made a detour at her hotel for her to change from high heels to more sensible walking shoes, they’d uncorked another bottle and from there . . . things had gotten out of hand in the hottest damn way.
But, as Tristan was normally required to do in order to keep his life on track, he pushed the past aside when Milla returned with a striking strapless minidress in a shimmering hue that wasn’t quite sapphire or royal and not quite navy. A unique jewel tone that would complement Liv’s tan, her dark hair, and her bright amber eyes.
Tristan had a winner.
Chapter Three
Liv held the small envelope in her hand, her name scrawled across the front in Tristan’s neat handwriting. She recognized his penmanship because he was prone to sending her postcards from around the world and had silently inspired her to reciprocate, so that she found herself scouring the racks of hotel and airport gift shops for ones she thought he’d like whenever she was traveling for work or leisure.
She was currently home in her Bayfront Towers condo. The first thing she always did when she entered was open the doors, step out onto the vast balcony, and take several deep breaths—as she did presently. She absorbed the sights and the sounds of the surf, her view showcasing a portion of the marina and cove to the right, along with the endless ocean stretching toward the horizon.
She craved this primo vista every morning when she woke up. And she’d linger here in the evenings, until the sun set and dusk eclipsed twilight and all that was left were the flickering lights on the bay from the boats.
It was still daytime now, and she slipped back inside to pour a glass of white wine. She had the notecard from Tristan still in hand, and hadn’t yet unveiled the package that had been couriered over from Prada.
She took a sip of wine, then opened the envelope and removed the short-and-sweet missive.
For the party.
Tristan & Nate
Liv’s stomach fluttered. She lifted the lid on the box and peeled back the glittery silver tissue. She squealed in delight at the fabulous strapless mini that was carefully, delicately arranged inside the box. The dress was softly ruched and with a hint of shimmer to it in the deepest, richest, most stunning shade of blue.
Her fingers glided over the satiny material.
Liv’s throat tightened around the lump of emotion suddenly lodged in it. She was no stranger to gifts from men. But coming from Nathaniel—Nate—and Tristan? Their thoughtfulness sent a ribbon of warmth and exhilaration through her.
She held the dress up, admiring it. The curved neckline rose on the sides, dipping in the middle. She would end up with a healthy amount of cleavage on display when she wore this, not to mention ample thigh, given the ultra-short hem.
She whistled under her breath. Chances were very good Nate’s and Tristan’s tongues would be dragging on the floor when she walked into the room. And that excited the hell out of her.
Liv reached for her cell on the counter. When Tristan answered, she asked, “Have you completely lost your mind?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“This dress is spectacular!”
“So you’ll consider being my and Nate’s date for the party?”
She took another drink from her glass and then said, “You don’t have to sway me with pretty presents.”
“Then send the dress back.”
“Too late,” she quipped. “The courier is long gone.”
Tristan chuckled and it reverberated within in her, inciting another ripple of joy. “How fortuitous for you. Guess you’ll have to keep it.”
“I do have a closet full of clothes, you know?”
“But nothing we’ve ever bought you.”
