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“This looks expensive.”
“It is,” he replied before getting out of the truck and coming around to open my door and once again taking me out with both his hands on my waist. “Relax,” he said, still holding me against him. “This is supposed to be fun.”
I glanced up at him, and he flashed his dimple at me.
“I’ll try,” I told him.
He placed a hand on my back and led me toward the shop. When he opened the door, he stepped back and let me go in, but he followed behind me, so close that I could feel his warmth. The women turned to look at us, and I felt so out of place. I was sure they were about to ask us to leave.
“Saxon.” An elegant lady with a platinum bob smiled at him and walked around the counter to head in our direction. “This must be your friend you called about.” She reached out and touched a strand of my hair as her eyes roamed over my face, then down my body. “You’re right. She’s breathtaking. This way. I chose some dresses in the colors you requested, so we can start there first.”
I glanced back at Saxon as she rattled on about the design he’d suggested and color choices. I was shocked. Again. He kept doing that.
We stopped at a white door with a crystal doorknob. The lady twisted it and entered. I looked inside to see a dressing room the size of my bedroom at Saxon’s house. There were mirrors from floor to ceiling on every wall. A white velvet chaise lounge in the center of the room and dresses hanging on a gold rack.
“Would you like me to stay and help you, or do you prefer Saxon?” she asked.
I glanced at him and her nervously. I didn’t want anyone in here with me while I was changing clothes.
“I’ll wait outside, and if she needs any help, she can ask me,” he suggested.
The lady nodded. “Very well. I’ll give you some privacy and space. You let me see anything you like. I want to make sure the fit is perfect.”
“Thank you,” I said, unsure of what else to say.
She left, and I turned to Saxon, who was standing at the door, leaning against it, watching me.
Shifting my gaze to the dresses on the rack, I said, “Crimson, royal blue, and silver,” before looking back at him.
He nodded. “I like those colors on you.”
“When have you ever seen me in silver?” I asked.
“In my imagination. I’ll be right out here if you need me,” he said, then reached for the door and closed it.
I stood there, staring at the closed door, replaying his words in my head. I was in his imagination? I wanted to open the door and ask if this was post my breaking up with him or pre. I wasn’t going to ask it, but I was tempted.
Looking back at the dresses, I had several to try on. I pulled off my sports bra and then slid off my leggings. Looking down, I saw the damp spot I had been afraid of. It was all his fault for being so … so … him.
Tossing my clothes over the chair, I reached for the first crimson dress and slipped it over my head. It was strapless, satin, and floor length with a slit that went above mid-thigh. The fabric hugged my chest and waist tightly with a little flare the rest of the way down. I was able to fasten it without help and look at myself in all the mirrors before opening the door to step out for Saxon to see me. There was a flash of something in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly that I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. I felt like a princess. I’d never worn anything this nice before.
When he shook his head, not smiling, my moment was over. Turning, I went back into the dressing room, not bothering to look at myself again. I hung the dress up and reached for another red one. This one had chiffon and was low cut in the front and back. It was also shorter hitting right above my knees. Like the last dress, I loved the way it made me look. I had never imagined looking like this. However, when I stepped out and Saxon shook his head, the same disappointment sank over me. It happened again with the other red dress and then two green dresses.
I was starting to dread walking out that door. What if I didn’t look good enough in any of these dresses? What then? Maybe you couldn’t dress up a girl to fit in. It could simply be me making the dresses not work.
Reaching for the metallic-silver dress, I felt nauseous. When Saxon had looked unimpressed with the other dresses, I’d been scared to try a silver dress. What if I didn’t meet his expectations or look like he’d imagined I would? Now, I was stuck with trying this one or the last green one or one of the burgundy dresses she’d left for me.
