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Flo had heard about my ERS and had reached out to me, bringing me a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a comfortable microfiber robe to curl up in when I was under the weather.
“I’m fine—at least today. Let’s hope it lasts through next week!” I looked around. “I decided I need something super racy for my wedding night. I have a gorgeous gown, but I’m thinking a bustier, matching panties, and a garter. Do you have anything in my size?” I wore a size 16, and while my weight had crept up a bit, I still fit in the range for the size.
“I think we can find something,” Flo said, coming out from behind the counter. “What colors are you interested in?”
“Purple, blue, green…maybe burgundy. Black will work, too.” I didn’t look good in pastels, and while I could pull off autumn colors, jewel tones were best for me.
“I think…wait here.” She disappeared into the back of the shop and when she returned, she was holding a gorgeous bustier that was burgundy and green striped. It was crafted with a soft lace that wouldn’t irritate my skin, and it was every bit as sexy as I hoped. It came with a pair of red and green striped thigh-high stockings that were both sheer and yet obviously holiday-themed, and gold lamé panties. “Here, what do you think?”
“It certainly fits the season,” I said. “I like it. All right, let me try on the bustier. If it fits, the panties should too.”
Flo adjusted the straps and then handed it to me. I went into the dressing room and stripped. The bustier had snaps in front so it was easy to put on. I was surprised by how well the bra part supported my boobs. I turned this way and that, examining myself in the mirror.
It had taken awhile for me to accept that Killian was attracted to my body, but now I believed him. And the more confident I had become in my own life, the more confident I had become in my looks.
My ex had left me for a trophy wife—well, girlfriend. She broke up with him before they could get married. During our marriage, he had harangued me night and day about my weight, about my magic, about my talent—every time I turned around, Ellison was on my back about how I wasn’t his perfect woman, about how he no longer found me sexy, about how I was a freak since I was witchblood. I hated to admit it, but I had put up with his emotional abuse for eighteen years.
Now, though, he was under house arrest in Bellingham and I’d left him behind. It occurred to me that I needed to devise a ritual to help me let go of some of the residual anger that was still lodged in my subconscious, but for the most part, Ellison no longer figured into my daily thoughts.
I peeked out of the fitting room. “I love it. Do you have one like it in any other color? I’ll take this one, but I’d like one for later on, when the holidays are over.”
“I have one in fuchsia—it would look lovely on you. I’m afraid those are the only two colors in your size, though. I can check on the company’s website to see if they have any other choices, if you like.” When Flo mentioned my size, there was never any attachment to it, which I appreciated.
“No, fuchsia will be fine. I like fuchsia.” I dressed again and took the bustier up to the counter. Flo brought the rest of the set and the fuchsia one over, wrapping them in tissue paper and putting them in a weather-proof shopping bag.
“Your total comes to $94.50, please.”
I handed her my credit card. “I’ll see you soon—I always do a new underwear run at the beginning of the year, so I’ll probably be back next month. Happy Solstice, and have a wonderful New Year!”
“Happy Solstice to you too, my dear, and may your wedding be everything you hope for.” She waved me out of the shop.
As I did my best to avoid falling on the slippery sidewalk, one of the neighboring shop owners came out and started shoveling. The snow began to fall in earnest. I tossed the bag in the backseat of my car and, glancing at the time, headed out to the steakhouse to meet up with Daya.
* * *
The Moonshadow Steakhousewas near the southern border of the town. On the outside, it appeared to be a rustic log cabin, something you might see way up in the mountains. But that was a façade. Once you stepped inside, an elegant ambience took over. The lighting was dim, but not so dark that it felt like a bar. I walked over to the front desk where the hostess stood waiting.
“I’m January Jaxson and I reserved a table for two.”
She glanced down the list of reservations and then tapped her finger on one line. Her nails were long and curved, the kind I’d never be able to keep up. I had my nails done now on a regular basis, and they were pretty but functional. The hostess’s nails would make it difficult to pull down her underwear in the bathroom. I always wondered how women wearing that length of nails managed it. Maybe they went commando instead.
“Yes, here you are. Would you like to be shown to your table now or do you want to wait for the other member of your party?”
“Why don’t you show me to the table now.”
She picked up two menus, and motioned for me to follow her. The carpeting had a Persian rug motif, but it was obviously meant for restaurants because it looked durable and easy to clean. The booths were comfortable and easy to slide into, and the tables and chairs were a dark mahogany. The leather on the seats of the booths was a hunter green. The food was excellent, and Killian and I came here at least once every couple weeks for date night.
I slid into the booth, and accepted the menu. A waitress brought over two water goblets filled with ice and water, then disappeared again as the hostess handed one of the menus to me and placed the other on the second placemat.
“Can I get you started with a drink while you wait?”
“A triple sugar-free mocha with whipped cream.” My phone jangled and I glanced at the text. It was from Daya.
i’ll be there in 10 minutes. held up at a stoplight.
no problem,I texted back.i’m here and waiting.
I glanced through my other texts to see if there were any others I hadn’t read. There was one from Killian telling me he loved me, and one from Rowan complaining that the kittens she had found a month ago had torn up her lace curtains. I laughed, then set my phone down and leaned back in the seat. I seldom got time to relax, except for when the headaches hit. And that wasn’t what I called relaxation.
