by Jae
“So what?” she said out loud. They were both adults. They could share a room without a problem…in a romantic beach setting…with possibly a party with lots of alcohol being consumed…for two nights. Oh God.
Chapter 13
The next Saturday, Sasha and Ashley were back in Kansas City. Ashley had left Brooke in charge of the flower shop, while Aunt Mae and Tammy—Sasha’s part-time employee—were manning the bakery so Ashley and Sasha could go outfit shopping. Unfortunately, their expedition wasn’t very successful so far.
Sasha looked down at the borderline too-short slacks, then in the mirror at the blazer she was trying on, and finally at Ashley.
“No,” they said in unison.
Sasha squished the shoulder pads. “I look like a linebacker in this.”
Ashley snorted. “Nonsense. You don’t. It’s just that you have such nice, strong…I mean, really strong shoulders, so you don’t need any shoulder pads.”
A smile tugged on Sasha’s lips. So Ashley thought her shoulders were nice? That almost made up for the stress of shopping. She slipped out of the blazer and gave it to Ashley to hold while she ducked back into the dressing room, where she had already tried on and discarded several outfits.
Everything had either been too businesslike, making her look like a CEO going to a business meeting, or not available in her size, and she hadn’t felt comfortable in the one dress she had tried on.
“Why don’t we head to dinner now?” Sasha said through the curtain separating them. “I have a nice pair of slacks and a blouse at home that I can wear to the wedding.”
“Oh, no. That wasn’t our deal. We’ll go have dinner only once you have found something to wear.”
Sasha sighed. “That could take us until Leo and Holly’s first wedding anniversary.”
“One more stop, okay? I want you to look good. Um, I mean, not that you usually don’t, even in your frosting-smeared apron, but…” Ashley cleared her throat.
Even without seeing her, Sasha knew she was blushing. Was she thinking about the last time she had seen her in a frosting-smeared apron?
“If you don’t find anything you like in the next store, you can wear whatever you have at home,” Ashley said.
Back in her comfy jeans, Sasha stepped out of the dressing room. Truth be told, spending time with Ashley made the shopping experience bearable, so she nodded and steered them toward the escalator.
Ashley wanted to continue on to the ground level, but Sasha pulled her to a stop on the next level. “I think this should be our last stop.”
“Um, this is the men’s section.”
Sasha shrugged. “So? Half of my wardrobe is from the men’s section.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, why not? Clothes don’t have a gender. Shopping in both sections doubles my chances of finding something that actually fits. Plus the stuff in the men’s department is cheaper.”
“Which is so unfair. If clothes don’t have a gender, neither should price tags.”
“Preaching to the choir.” Sasha waved toward the men’s section. “So? Want to look around?”
Ashley’s gaze went to the single salesclerk and several shoppers milling around, most of them men. She dragged in a long breath, then nodded and strode forward as if she owned the place.
Sasha stared after her. Shit. Confidence looked damn sexy on her. She hastened after her.
No one gave them any weird looks. Sasha had a feeling they all assumed they were shopping for a boyfriend or a male relative. Frankly, she didn’t care what anyone else thought, but she knew Ashley did. It meant the world to her that Ashley was braving the men’s department for her.
Ashley headed toward a row of suits at the back wall, pulled out one outfit, shook her head, slid it back in, and then repeated the process. Since she seemed to know exactly what she was searching for, Sasha just let her proceed and watched her with a smile.
It wasn’t long before the salesclerk walked over. “Can I help you, ladies?”
Ashley turned. “Yes, thanks. We’re looking for a suit for a wedding.”
“What size is your boyfriend or husband wearing?” the salesclerk asked.
Sasha opened her mouth, about to step in.
But before she could say anything, Ashley spoke up. “We’re actually looking for a suit for her.” She put her hand on Sasha’s shoulder.
The simple touch of support felt better than anything Sasha had experienced since…okay, since the kiss on the bakery kitchen floor.
“The women’s section is upstairs.” The salesclerk pointed to the escalator.
“We know.” Ashley held his gaze, even though Sasha knew it was probably a struggle for her. “That’s where we just came from, but nothing really fit, so we’re trying our luck here.”
The salesman turned toward Sasha and let his gaze trail over her from head to toe.
Ashley’s hand on Sasha’s shoulder tightened.
Finally, the salesclerk gave a slow nod. “So let’s find you a suit.”
Sasha blew out a breath—more for Ashley than for herself. She was used to all sorts of reactions, good and bad, but she hadn’t wanted Ashley’s bravery to be rewarded by an asshole comment.
“What were you thinking of?” For some reason, he looked at Ashley, not at Sasha.
Ashley ran her gaze up and down Sasha’s body as if imagining the clothes on her.
The intense perusal heated Sasha’s skin.
“Dark gray pants and vest, no jacket, and a white dress shirt.” Ashley’s tone was so decisive as if she’d had weeks instead of just seconds to think of the perfect outfit.
“Be right back.” The salesclerk marched off to do her bidding.
Sasha stared from his retreating back to Ashley. “Wow. What was that? You kind of took over there.”
Ashley’s cheeks colored. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, no. Don’t apologize. It’s ho—um, I mean, it’s great. I just didn’t expect you to get even one word out, to be honest.”
“I’m trying out your advice to act like this is the most normal thing in the world, hoping he will take his cue from that,” Ashley said with a small smile.
Sasha pointed to the salesclerk, who was returning with several suits and shirts for her to try. “Seems to be working.”
“I didn’t think it would, but maybe you’re right—at least some of the time.”
The salesclerk handed over his bounty. “The changing rooms are over there, but, um, they’re the men’s dressing rooms.”
Sasha took the hangers from him. “That’s fine. There’s a curtain, so it’s not like I’m performing a striptease in the middle of the store.”
This time, the salesclerk and Ashley competed for the fieriest blush.
Chuckling, Sasha walked over to the changing room.
An older man gave her a startled look, but no one said anything.
Sasha slid the curtain closed and changed into the first outfit. The pants were an amazingly good fit, and for a change, even the men’s shirt wasn’t too tight at the waist. But when she buttoned up the vest, the fabric was straining against the top two buttons. She stepped out of the fitting room to show Ashley.
Ashley jumped up from a padded bench next to the dressing rooms. She stared at Sasha with a slack jaw.
Sasha peeked down at the straining buttons. “That bad?”
“Bad? No, you look great. Really, really great. You were right. We should have looked in the men’s section from the start.” Ashley’s admiring gaze left no doubt that she meant it and wasn’t just being polite.
Sasha’s chest inflated under her gaze, making the buttons groan almost audibly. She quickly opened them before they could pop off. “Yeah, but this,” she pointed at the vest, “isn’t tailored with a woman’s breasts in mind. That’s usually my problem wit
h men’s vests.”
“Can you take it off for a second?”
Sasha removed the vest and dangled it from her index finger.
Ashley studied her, then stepped closer and rolled up the shirtsleeves.
Her fingers grazed Sasha’s forearms, setting off tiny explosions all along her skin.
“You know, I think you don’t actually need a vest. Could you get us a bow tie and a pair of suspenders?” Ashley asked the salesclerk without looking away from what she was doing.
He hurried off.
“A bow tie?” Sasha asked. “Isn’t that a bit too formal for the kind of wedding Leo and Holly are planning?”
“I don’t think so, especially if you’re not wearing a vest or a suit jacket with it. I’m sure a lot of people will dress up a little, no matter what they say. Plus…” Ashley stopped herself and busied herself putting the discarded vest back on its hanger.
Sasha gave her a gentle nudge. “Plus what?”
“A woman in a bow tie is kind of…” Her voice got lower with every word until she whispered, “Sexy.”
Sasha grinned. She had assumed Ashley would be scared of what people might say about a woman dressed in traditionally male garb. Sasha knew she would definitely wear a bow tie now, even if that meant being a bit overdressed. “Oh, you think so, hmm?”
The salesclerk returning with a pair of suspenders and several bow ties saved Ashley from having to answer.
Ashley went into full fashion designer mode. She took the suspenders and clipped them to Sasha’s waistband, then slid them up over her shoulders.
Sasha had no clue why she wasn’t just handing them over and letting her do it, but frankly, she didn’t care. If she had ever experienced something hotter than being dressed by Ashley Gaines, she had forgotten about it the moment Ashley had rolled up her sleeves. She would be Ashley’s personal dress-up doll any time.
She held her breath as Ashley closed the top button of her dress shirt, turned up the collar, and looped the tie around her neck. An image flashed through Sasha’s mind—of Ashley pulling on the ends of the tie to tug her down, raising up on her tiptoes, and kissing her.
Instead, Ashley tipped Sasha’s chin up with one finger and tied a bow with practiced movements.
“You’ve done this before.” Sasha hoped she didn’t sound jealous, but she really disliked the thought of Ashley doing this for anyone else.
“Many times.” Ashley turned down the collar and arranged the wing tips the way she wanted them. “For my father. He says my mother ties it too tight.”
“Ah.” The claws around Sasha’s stomach loosened their grip.
Ashley straightened the bow tie and smoothed her palms along Sasha’s shoulders. “Done.”
Shock waves of sensation spiraled down Sasha’s body, even after Ashley had stepped back. Taking Ashley outfit hunting had either been her most genius idea ever or the most masochistic one.
“Don’t you like it?” Ashley asked when Sasha just stood frozen in front of the store mirror.
Sasha hadn’t even taken a look at herself, too distracted by the intimate act of Ashley helping her dress. Quickly, she glanced into the mirror. Wow. She ran her thumbs beneath the suspenders and let them snap back against her shoulders. She loved how they looked with the purple bow tie Ashley had picked.
“I think it looks great,” Ashley said, as if she had to convince Sasha.
“Yeah,” the salesclerk added. “I didn’t think so at first, but the suspenders were actually a good idea. Your girlfriend looks very dapper in them.”
Oh shit. Sasha glanced at Ashley. She’d been doing great so far, but this was definitely out of her comfort zone.
“I…she…”
Sasha put a hand on her back, stopping the stammered explanation. “Just because two women are shopping in the men’s section doesn’t necessarily mean they’re gay or a couple,” she told the salesclerk, not unkindly.
The guy’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Oh, I’m not offended,” Sasha said. Quite the opposite. Having him assume that someone as beautiful as Ashley was her girlfriend was actually very flattering. “Thanks so much for your help. You’ve been great.”
He gave them a tight smile and hurried off.
“So,” Sasha tugged on both ends of her bow tie, “I assume I’m buying this?”
“You’re buying this,” Ashley said with a decisive nod.
Sasha undid the bow tie and stepped back into the dressing room to get changed.
“You didn’t have to tell him we’re not gay.” Ashley’s quiet voice filtered through the curtain. “I don’t expect you to lie or hide in the closet just because I—”
“I didn’t,” Sasha said. “I just told him that because two women are shopping in the men’s section doesn’t automatically mean they are gay. There’s plenty of straight women who prefer a more androgynous style.”
“Hmm. I guess you’re right.” Ashley was quiet for some time.
Sasha had a feeling she had a lot to digest today. She slid out of the dress shirt and back into her button-down. “Are you ready for some food? The restaurant is keeping our table all evening, so we can go whenever you want.”
“No,” Ashley answered.
Sasha paused with the suit pants halfway down her thighs. “No?” Had Ashley changed her mind about the dinner invitation afterward? Was she afraid that it would be too much like a date?
“No,” Ashley repeated. “Before we can have dinner, you need shoes to wear with your new outfit. Or do you have a pair at home?”
Sasha sighed. “Shoe shopping it is.”
“Come on. It’ll be fun.”
Maybe—but not half as much fun as trying on the suit since Ashley probably wouldn’t help her put her shoes on. Chuckling to herself, Sasha buttoned up her jeans and grabbed the new outfit. After one last soft touch to the bow tie Ashley had declared sexy, she slid back the curtain and joined Ashley outside.
Ash had assumed Sasha would take her to one of the many barbecue restaurants in Kansas City. Instead, Sasha parked in the River Market neighborhood, and they walked down the historic street, past a bookstore bar and other quaint little places.
A streetcar rattled past, and Sasha held on to Ash’s elbow, as if protecting her from trying to cross the street at the wrong moment.
With other dates, Ash had felt patronized in similar situations, but with Sasha, she only felt cared for.
Other dates? This isn’t a date, she told herself firmly.
Once the streetcar had passed, Sasha led her across the street, to a late-nineteenth-century building and held open the door to The Meadow, one of the trendiest restaurants in town. Sasha’s hand rested in the small of her back, warming Ash from head to toe, as Sasha guided her inside.
When Sasha gave her name, the hostess led them to a corner table in a small room that was separate from the main dining room. The restaurant was elegant but cozy, with subdued lighting and candles flickering on tables for two. The exposed brick walls were covered by artwork and a huge chalkboard listing the farms where the food was coming from. An open kitchen took up half of the room. Behind a broad workstation, Ash caught glimpses of two chefs who were busy chopping vegetables, frying meat, and preparing dessert plates with amazing efficiency. The scent of roasted garlic, tomatoes, and sage made Ash’s mouth water, and soft live music drifted over from the main room, where a pianist was playing jazz.
“Wow,” Ash said as the waiter left them with the menus. “This is great. How did you manage to get a table, much less have them reserve it for us the entire evening? I heard you have to make reservations at least a month in advance.”
Sasha gave a mysterious smile. “I have my ways. So you haven’t been here before?”
Ash laughed. “It’s a litt
le out of my price range.” She sobered and looked at Sasha across the small table. “You didn’t have to take me somewhere this expensive. I would have been happy with a burger or some pizza.”
“Nah. You deserve to be treated. In fact, you deserve dinner for a month for helping me find an outfit. God, you had the patience of a saint.”
Patient was the last thing Ash had felt when she had seen Sasha in her chosen wedding outfit. Who knew women could look so hot in suspenders and a bow tie? Or maybe not women in general, but Sasha had definitely looked hot. Ash had wanted to slide those suspenders down Sasha’s strong shoulders, unbutton the dress shirt, and kiss a path down the skin she laid bare.
“You okay?” Sasha leaned forward and studied her in the candlelight. “You spaced out there for a minute.”
Ash was grateful for the low lighting that hopefully hid her blush. She shook her head to clear it. “Oh yeah. I’m fine. Just listening to the piano player. He—or she—is really good.”
“They have live music every night, mostly up-and-coming local jazz artists,” Sasha said. “I thought you, as a former musician, would appreciate it.”
“I do.” Sasha was so thoughtful, Ash had to remind herself again that this wasn’t a date. The romantic atmosphere didn’t exactly help, though.
Sasha opened the menu. “Pick whatever you want. If you look at the prices, I’ll be insulted.”
Ash studied the list of dishes, determined to not go overboard, no matter what Sasha said. It wouldn’t be hard to pick something in the middle of the price range since everything sounded delicious.
“They prepare all their dishes with farm-to-table, locally grown ingredients, and their meat is from happy cows and pigs only,” Sasha said.
Ash looked up from her menu. “How do you know so much about them? Did you research the restaurant before deciding where to take me?” She could see her doing that to make sure they had a good time.
“That too.” Sasha lifted the menu as if hiding a bit of a blush herself. “But mostly, I know because I went to culinary school with one of the co-owners. She’s The Meadow’s pastry chef, responsible for their yummy breads and desserts, while her business partner is the head chef.”