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“Wow. I did not know you were hiding that body under that T-shirt.” The pink-haired makeup artist stood back and looked me over. “You are hot, lady! I’m one-thousand-percent sure you’re going to turn every head in that place tonight.”
I frowned. I didn’t want to turn heads. I wanted them to roll. Specifically, I wanted Jude’s head to roll for dressing me up like some Housewives of Breeze Point wannabe.
“Let me finish with your lips, and then you’ll be finished.” She did her thing and then informed me that I should reapply the lipstick after a couple of hours.
I held the tube in my hand after she handed it to me and stared down at it. There was no way I should’ve been trusted to apply lipstick. I put it down on the kitchen counter like a bomb and looked down at a very confused Bogie. He stared up at me with his head twisted to the side. “Yeah, I know. I look weird, don’t I?”
He tilted his head the other way and then gave a happy bark before running off to find a toy.
The team of people had left me to my own devices while I waited for Jude to show up. I couldn’t help pacing. That included several stumbles as I got used to walking in the tall heels he’d chosen. I only stopped pacing when I caught sight of my silhouette in the TV. The curves on the woman in the reflection were dramatic and I hurried to the bathroom to look at myself better.
The woman staring back at me stunned me. My natural dirty blonde hair had been curled and put in some kind of thing at the back of my head. A few curls hung down from it and I found my hair beautiful for once. My eyes trailed down to my face and I stopped, taken aback by the brightness of my eyes. The honey-brown color stood out and drew my attention over and over. I’d never felt so pretty while still looking mostly like myself. The makeup artist hadn’t changed my skin or coloring. She’d just highlighted my best features and I wanted to chase her down to kiss her for it.
The red on my mouth was dramatic and it matched the dress perfectly. I wasn’t sure if that was a trendy thing, but I thought it was cool. I stared at myself, checking out my body in the dress, and slowly accepted that I didn’t look like a clown. I still wasn’t comfortable showing off so much of my body, but I could admit that I looked pretty in the dress. It was a strange few minutes that I had with myself while waiting on Jude. I’d expected to look like a joke, but I wasn’t too stubborn to admit that I didn’t.
A knock at the door sent Bogie running toward it with a happy song of barks. A moment later, I heard the door open and winced.
“I didn’t forget to lock it! The basketball team of people you sent over just left! I don’t want to hear a safety lecture right now.” I felt nervous as I exited the bathroom and made my way to the front of my house, where I knew Jude waited.
“You never want to hear a safety lecture. You never want to hear anything that you don’t find—” Jude’s voice stopped cold when he saw me. His eyes moved over my face and down my body, stuttering on my chest and hips. He reached up and rubbed his jaw absently while continuing to stare at me.
I waited for what felt like ten years for him to say something, but when he never did, I turned to go back to the bedroom. I wanted to hide. I’d been wrong. I probably did look like a clown and he couldn’t take me out with him. There was a reason I stuck with T-shirts and ponytails.
Jude grabbed my wrist and pulled me back around to face him. “I’m not finished looking at you.”
Heat scorched my cheeks but I forced an eye roll. “There’s nothing to look at.”
He raised my arm and forced me into a twirl. “Nothing to look at? You’re insane. You look fucking stunning, Poppy.”
I moved away from him and cleared my throat. “Thanks. Should we go? Where are we going, anyway?”
Jude smiled at me and the effect of that charming smile was doubled because of the perfectly tailored tux he wore. “Am I embarrassing you, Poppy? You look a little flushed.”
I glared at him. “Don’t make me regret this. Let’s just go.”
He opened my front door and watched as Bogie ran out. Before I could call my wayward dog back, Jude put his hand on my lower back and urged me out the front door. “Sam’s out here, so Bogie will probably just go to his house.”
Bogie spent most of the time I was away with Sam. Sam worked from home as a software engineer and the two loved hanging out together.
I didn’t get a chance to process what exactly his words meant until I heard a cough from my front yard. Sam and Cyrus were both standing near my porch, phones in hand like they’d been planning to take pictures of us. Instead, they were just staring at me like a couple of idiots.
Going down the porch steps left a lot of my thigh exposed and I nearly fell when I hit the uneven gravel of my driveway. Jude caught my arm just in time and kept me upright. I ground my teeth together and tried to hang on to the feeling I’d felt while looking at myself in the mirror.
Jude pulled me into his side and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Since I know this will never happen again, I need pictures, Poppy.”
I looked up at him and noticed just how long his lashes were and how bright blue his eyes were. He smiled down at me and the twin dimples in his cheeks popped out, making his smile even more devastating. Again, that feeling in the pit of my stomach returned.
“Fuck.” Sam’s soft swear drew my eyes to him and I shivered when I saw his expression. He stared at me like a starving man. I’d never seen that expression on his face before and it gave me an instant high.
In the middle of the strange moment, I heard the slam of Bad Mood Banner’s screen door. A second later, his voice rang out through the neighborhood. “Lipstick on a pig! You’re still a terrible driver with a foul mouth.”
I swung around to face the old fart. “You’re one to talk, you old turd! Even if you won’t admit it, I know it was you who ran over my bike when I was ten!”
“Slander! I’ll sue you!” He shook his fist in my direction and spit on the ground.
“Try it and I’ll make sure you never get one of your perv packages in the mail again!” I saw his face go red and pumped my fist. Round #498 went to me.
“I—you—how dare you! They’re classy magazines and I would call your mother to tell her about your mouth if I didn’t have better things to do!” He rushed back inside and slammed his door.
