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Agatha turns from us and immediately begins to peruse a rack that’s in the back of her small store. There might not be a lot of space in here, but the quality of the items she does have are second to none and she’s always full of surprises.
“I started working on this a little over a month ago,” Agatha says as she moves garment bags and dresses to the side. “No reason really, except that I had a whim to make something dreamy.” Her tone lilts and it sounds like birds singing. “It’s not finished yet, but I think it was just waiting for you.”
When she pulls out the dress, I hear the breath whoosh out of Sophie.
“Agatha,” she gasps. “It’s… I can’t even…”
The top of the dress is sheer with a nude underlay and it’s covered in tiny, hand-stitched cream flowers with a vee neckline that dips to the waist. A delicate ribbon band ties into a bow in the back and then the skirt of the dress is the softest, billowy tulle.
“I can make it any length you’d like. Add a train, sleeves…”
I turn to look at Sophie when she doesn’t speak and I know her answer without her uttering a word.
This is the one.
CHAPTER TWENTY
MACK
Checkingmy watch for the tenth time, I tell myself to calm the fuck down.
We’re not running late.
Actually, we still have twenty minutes before we need to leave.
But I’m dying to see Greer.
We haven’t spent much time together over the last couple of days. After the night in the bath, I felt like things were feeling too real and I needed to focus on the game. So, I took the past couple of days to do that. But I’ve stayed in touch, checking on her through occasional text messages.
I also keep an eye on the security cameras at my house, making sure the systems are working how they were designed.
After I took Greer to work on my off day, I went to the field and got in a good workout with Ross and Bo. Owen met up with us later that day for lunch and I took the time to get my head on straight.
Yesterday, we kicked ass and won our fifth game in a row, but today, we lost.
That’s baseball. With one-hundred-and-sixty-two games in a regular season, you’re not going to win them all. However, when you’re as close as we are to clinching the division, every single game counts.
Collectively, as a team, we want this so bad we can taste it.
Checking my watch again, I inwardly groan.
Cut it the fuck out, man.
She’ll be down when she’s ready.
I’ve seen Greer in the clubhouse and on the field. I’ve walked her to her car and followed her home. We’ve shared meals together and I’ve made her coffee and breakfast. Even when she’s not here, her scent lingers. But tonight, we’re putting on a show for everyone to see. Not that we haven’t put up a united front until now. We have. After every game, when she waits for me or I wait for her, it’s a loud message to everyone in the room that she’s mine.
Stay the fuck away.
But tonight feels different. Maybe it’s because of the deep conversations we’ve had recently or the intense feelings I’ve started to develop that no longer feel fake. All I know is my palms are sweating like this is a real first date.
To say I’m a little nervous is an understatement.
When my phone rings, I practically jump out of my skin.
Checking the screen, I see it’s Aiden calling. I almost hit the button to send him to voicemail, but I know he’ll just keep calling and texting if I try to ignore him.
“Hello,” I answer, sounding every bit as annoyed and anxious as I feel.
