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Not only did I decide to let my devil out, but I’ve convinced myself to let her reign. Love and end game don’t factor in my participation.
That line of thinking will serve me well when it comes to the bastard that tried to debase me on my bedroom floor.
But it’s my craving for the devil I’d let into my bed that I want to erase now.
“Fast girl, indeed,” I agree as I race toward the square before whipping into a parking space at the store in front of my favorite dress shop. Tessa greets me with a welcoming smile, her eyes bulging when she sees my hair and the grin I’m sporting.
“Girl, you look incredible.” She walks over to where I stand sorting through a rack of dresses. I’ve already spent a fortune today but couldn’t care less that I’m redlining my bank account. Deliverance can do that to a girl. I’m out of fucks to give. I run my fingers through my hair, which feathers right back into place due to the sleek cut.
“Thanks, I’m still getting used to it.”
“It suits you,” she says, joining me at the rack.
We’ve become fast friends since I started frequenting her shop, which seems to be thriving, maybe due to a little aid from the brotherhood. But she hasn’t mentioned anything about it, she wouldn’t, but even if she had, I’d keep my involvement out of it. I don’t want credit—the fact that she’s doing well is reward enough for me.
I glance around the bustling store at a group of women pulling dresses from the various racks. “Looks like things are going well.”
“You have no idea. It’s amazing what can happen in a year.”
“Oh, I believe you. And that’s so good to hear.” Tessa runs her fingers through her hair as I compliment her on her dress. She’s a beautiful, petite, champagne blonde with doe eyes. The thought occurs to me then, well, Tyler occurs to me. Briefly, I entertain the idea of playing matchmaker, though I’m still pissed at him. But I’ve got a soft spot for Tyler despite the role he’s played. And the sadness in his eyes the day we visited Delphine haunts me. He’s in a good place now or seemed to be when last I saw him.
“Are you seeing anyone?” I ask in a whisper as one of the women picking through dresses eyes me. I wink at her, gauging the judgment in her eyes, no doubt due to my recent scandals, before directing my attention back to Tessa.
“No boyfriends, no,” she answers. “Not really much to choose from around here.”
“I might have someone for you.”
She perks up. “Oh? Please tell me he’s not a local.”
“He is, but he’s been in the service for years. He’s a little older than you, so I doubt you know of him. He’s one of the good ones.”
“Yeah?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Well, send him in for a dress for his mother.”
“I may just do that.”
“Does he have a name?”
“Trust me. You’ll know him when you see him.” And maybe she has, he is the Friar after all. Then again, I know nothing of the day to day of hood business anymore.
“Really? That hot?”
“That hot.”
“I’ll be on the lookout.”
She looks me over as I again sort through the rack. “I know that smile. Who are we dressing you for tonight?”
I pull a dress from the rack and lift it to my collar, eyeing my reflection in a nearby floor-length mirror before I turn to her.
“Me.”
“Well then. I have just the dress.”
I wake to the clink of ice against a glass, and a whiff of gin, spice, and leather. A second later, my bedside lamp clicks on filling the room with a soft yellow hue. Tobias sits at the edge of my mattress, invading me with his presence. He’s impeccably dressed in a single-breasted suit, his strong jaw flexing as he drinks me in, his eyes blisteri
