“Don’t I know all about changing sizes,” she said, laughing as she took the paper. “Come with me. Let’s take a look.” She led us up to the check-out area and pulled out a notebook. After flipping through a few pages, she came to the one she’d been looking for and compared my sticky note numbers to the ones in her book. “Eighteen, you said?” she murmured. “Is that what you’re wearing right now?” Her eyes flicked over to me, looking me up and down.
I crossed my arms over my chest, scowling. “Yeah, for about the last six or eight months.” I’d been working my butt off, trying to lose more weight, but the scale refused to budge in all that time.
“Well, if these measurements and my eyes are right, you’re much closer to a fourteen. Let’s see what we can find you to try on, and we’ll go from there.”
Fourteen? This chick was crazy. Either that or the numbers were wrong—hers, Tanya’s, someone’s.
She was already moving, though, handing my sticky note back to me before heading to the nearest rack of slacks and thumbing through them until she found the pair she was looking for. I followed numbly behind her, and Keith came along, too, his hand resting almost casually on my waist. “How tall are you?” she asked as she pulled a pair out, holding the hanger up to my waist.
“Five foot seven,” I spluttered. “Or maybe five eight.” Heck, if she thought I was a fourteen, maybe I had no clue about anything to do with myself, height included.
She grabbed a second pair of slacks and headed toward a changing room. “Try both the average and the tall, then, just to be sure, but I think you’ll need the tall. And once you get them on, come out so we can see.” She hung them on a hook in one of the rooms and nudged me inside, closing the door behind me.
There was no denying I was still in a moderate amount of discomfort over this entire situation as I lowered my skirt to the floor and toed off my shoes. Still, I forced myself to go along with it.
“While she’s doing that,” I heard the saleswoman say, “let’s you and I find a few more things for her to try. We got this adorable dress in this week, and I think she’d look amazing in it…” Her voice faded off into the distance.
I took a breath. Or maybe I huffed. Whichever. But then I unhooked the first pair of slacks from the hanger and started to put them on, sure that at any moment the seams were going to rip because my thighs were too big or my butt was too fat.
That didn’t happen, though. They pulled up easily, and I didn’t have to fight with the buttons or the zipper. They…they fit me. I looked at myself in the mirror, my jaw hanging slack. I turned to the side, expecting to see a massive rip in the backside, but all I saw was my butt looking cute and curvy. She must have given me an eighteen and lied to me about the size. There was no chance these were fourteens.
They were about an inch too short, though, so I whipped them off. I stole a glance at the tag before putting them back on the hanger. Fourteen average. Huh.
I took the other pair down and slid them on. This pair fit me as well in the waist and hips as the other pair had, but they were definitely long enough in the leg. I slipped my heels back on and stole another look in the mirror before tentatively opening the door.
Keith and the saleswoman were back, both with their arms laden with clothes. It looked as though, combined, they held about half the store. She looked me over, nodding as she went into the changing room and hung her load of garments on the hooks.
“Those are the tall pair?” she asked before turning around to face me again.
“Yes.”
She put her hands on my shoulders and held me so she could see my back side. “Gather up the hem of your shirt and hold it tight around your waist.”
I felt heat rushing to my cheeks as I did what she’d told me to, all the while keeping my eyes on Keith because I didn’t know where else to look. His lips had turned up slightly, and I felt even hotter when his gaze raked over me.
“How do they feel?” she asked. Before I could answer, she put pressure on my shoulders so I’d turn around. “Are they tight at all?” One of her hands came down to the waistband and tugged at a couple of places.
“No, they seem fine.”
“And they aren’t hanging off you like that skirt was,” she said, smiling. “I bet it feels even better to realize you’ve lost so much weight. Congratulations.”
“I…” I snapped my mouth shut because I didn’t know what I could possibly say to that.
She backed away from me, her eyes still taking everything in. At this angle, a mirror was in front of me. I could see Keith eyeing me even more intently.
“All right,” she said at last. “So now we know your size. Let’s get you some clothes.” She crossed over to Keith and relieved him of all that he still held. Then she carried it all into the dressing room and spent a few minutes hanging the clothing on the hooks, taking a few pieces out as she did so. “Some of these were average, not tall,” she said by way of explanation.
I could only stare at it all. That dressing room was filled with bright colors, clothes that had defined shapes—tons of things I would never dream of wearing.
Keith moved up behind me, putting a hand on my waist. Only then did I realize that I was still holding the hem of my shirt bunched up. I dropped my grip on it, and the material fell down over his hand.
“Just try it on and see,” he murmured in my ear, as though he knew all the thoughts racing through my mind. “If you don’t like something, we’ll put it back. But you might like it.”
“Why are you doing this, Keith?”
“Because of the look on your face when you came out of that dressing room a minute ago.”
“What look was that?”
He shrugged, but that grin hadn’t left his lips. “I don’t know. Like maybe you were starting to see what I see. Maybe a little bit.”
“In you go,” the saleswoman said, giving my shoulder a little nudge. She had about a half dozen pieces in her hands that she was taking away, including the first pair of slacks I’d tried on. “And we want to see you in everything you put on, so be sure you come out to show us.” She moved to close the door but stopped and dropped her voice. “Start with the blue dress I hung at the front. I think it’ll look really nice with your eyes.” She gave me a wink and then shut the door. “You might as well settle in,” she said to Keith. “She’ll be at this a while.”
“I’m ready for the show,” he replied, his voice eager.
The show. Good grief. I couldn’t imagine what he thought he was going to see, particularly since he’d already seen me naked as the day I was born. That didn’t stop a smile from curving my mouth, though. Despite the fact that I didn’t want to be smiling at all.
WE SPENT OVER an hour and several hundred dollars buying Brie new clothes, but in the end she came away with several overly full bags and the beginnings of a decent wardrobe of clothes that fit her like a glove—and wouldn’t leave her hidden in the background.
Every time she’d come out wearing something that hugged her curves instead of billowing over her body, I couldn’t help but appreciate the view. There were definitely a few items that hadn’t suited her, but for the most part she came out of that changing room looking as delectable as anything I’d ever seen every time. My cock had appreciated the way she looked, too, particularly the shy smiles and brightened eyes that had become more and more frequent with each outfit she’d tried on. That was sexier to me than anything—her growing confidence. I was very glad that it was winter so I could lay my coat over my lap as I sat enjoying the fashion show, hiding the evidence of my hard on.
The blue dress—a soft-blue plaid, fitted on top in a way that accentuated her breasts—had looked so good on her that I’d convinced her to wear it out of the store when we left. It made me want to pull her close so those amazing breasts would pillow against me. It had a flared skirt that ended just below the knee, a series of buttons that went from chest to hem, and a wide-banded white belt. She stood straighter and held herself taller
in it. Even with her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and only the barest hint of makeup dusted over her face, she looked like a completely different woman when she wore that dress. Probably because she felt like a different woman. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on my part, hoping that my plan was starting to take effect at least somewhat.
I had offered to pay when we went up to the checkout, since it had all been my idea, or at least to split the expense, but she flat-out refused to take a red cent of my money. Maybe it was a bit too presumptuous of me to think she would have allowed it. We’d only really been on one date before now after all.
Once she’d finished paying, I’d asked the saleswoman to remove the tags, and Brie had returned to the fitting room one final time to change. Now, when she came out, her eyes were glittering and bright, the blue of the dress making the blue of her eyes as clear as the sky on a sunny spring day. I loved that she was letting a little leg show, enough to spark the imagination. Her calves were shapely, made even more so by the heels she always wore and the new confidence with which she walked when she joined me at the exit.
I moved all the bags I was carrying into a single hand so the other would be free.
“What?” she said, completely unable to mask the smile in her voice. I must not have been masking my thoughts very well if that was the first thing out of her mouth.
I shook my head. “Nothing. I was thinking I’d never seen a pair of ankles that turned me on quite like yours do.”
She batted at me with the bag she held.
I took her other hand in mine, leading her out toward my car. “Dinner?”
“Absolutely. I’m starving.”
It wasn’t long before we were downtown and parked in the garage across the street from Kells. There was a bit of a crowd around the pub tonight because of the Trail Blazers game, but Tony greeted us at the door.
“Your usual booth, Burnzie?” he asked, pulling a couple of menus out from his podium and leading us that way without needing to wait for my answer.
Brie laughed. “You have a ‘usual booth’?”
I winked and urged her to come along with me. “Do you like Guinness? Please tell me you do, because I don’t know what I’ll do if—”
“I don’t mind one every now and then,” she interrupted.
I waited until she sat on one of the benches, and then I slid in beside her instead of taking up the other seat. The booths weren’t overly large, and I moved farther in than was strictly necessary, brushing thigh against thigh, arm against arm.
“I’ll bring two your way and send someone over for the rest of your orders, then,” Tony said. He set the menus on the table in front of us and left to greet some more customers who’d just arrived.
“So I take it you really like Irish food,” she said after he’d been gone a moment.
“My grandmother’s Irish. Mom grew up there. She got a job as an au pair one summer when she was in college, and the family she worked for was traveling through Canada. That was when she met my dad, and the rest is history.”
“Do you visit your grandmother in Ireland often?”
“Not as often as I’d like. My only opportunity is during my summers off, but I have to keep up my workouts and stay in shape during the off-season. It’s been a couple of years. I’m planning to go this coming summer, though. Mom and Dad try to get out there at least once a year, but that doesn’t always happen because of their jobs and other things getting in the way. Shane probably visits more than the rest of us.”
I hadn’t planned to talk about my family. Mentioning Shane’s name was what reminded me that it was better to keep my fucking mouth shut. Damn it. Brie was smiling at me, her eyes all lit up, and I could see her curiosity burning in them. She wanted to know more, but I couldn’t give her that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
It was hard to talk about my family when they didn’t particularly want to be my family any longer.
“So this performance,” I said, changing the subject before she could delve into areas better left in the darker corners of my mind. “Tell me about it. When’s it going to be?”
The corner of her mouth twitched. I might not know her very well yet, but I knew that meant she was annoyed about something. Maybe about me changing the subject. Now that I thought about it, that was when I most often saw this expression on her face—when I stopped us from talking about my life, my family.
I’d have to do a better job of keeping us away from those subjects in the first place.
“New Year’s Day,” she said, masking her aggravation with a shy smile. “It’s a big event. The piece with Devin…it’s only one small part of it.”
“Any chance you’d want me to come?” I had that Light the Lamp Foundation commitment on New Year’s Eve, but the next day was a scheduled day off for the team. I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do than spend it with her, watching her dance.
Her eyes flickered up to meet mine. “You want to?”
More than I could ever explain to her. I wanted to be with her more than I wanted just about anything. The more time I spent with her, the more that desire grew. I nodded.
“Oh. Well, I suppose that would be all right.” But just that fast, she turned away from me. Was it really all right, or was she embarrassed at the thought of me being there? She shouldn’t be embarrassed at all. She was insanely talented. She was born to be on the stage, as far as I could tell.
She held the menu in front of her, staring down at it. I took the opportunity to study her hands. They were delicate. Soft. Her skin was like porcelain, all over her body, almost flawless other than a stray freckle or beauty mark here and there. I had found one on the back of her neck, usually hidden by her hair. She had another on the inside of her thigh that I doubted had been seen by very many eyes. Now that I took a moment to study her hands, I realized she had a tiny one on the back of her left hand, directly above the wrist on the side closest to her thumb. I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed the beauty mark.
She blushed and tugged her hand away from me. Then she cleared her throat. “So the corned beef and cabbage is really good here?”
“And the shepherd’s pie. I’ve thought about licking the bowl after eating the shepherd’s pie a few times, but it’s too hot. It comes out piping from the oven, and I love it so much that I eat it faster than I should. The bowl is still scorching when I finish it. I’d burn my tongue. Might never be able to taste again, and that would be a damned shame.”
For that matter, I might burn my tongue if I licked Brie right now. With her wearing that dress, I could see more of the slope of her shoulders and her neck than she usually let show. Her blush started at her chest—or maybe even lower—and it crept all the way up her neck, her face, and ended somewhere past her hairline, making me wonder if she had any idea what I was thinking about.
Tony dropped off our beers right as our waiter came to take our orders—Brie asked for the shepherd’s pie—and then they both hurried off, taking our menus as they went.
Without the menu to hold, she started fidgeting with her hands as they rested on the table. I put one of mine over the top of them, stilling her movements.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Why do you think something’s wrong?” She removed her hands from mine and tucked them on her lap beneath the table.
I sighed. “You seem… I don’t know, you seem nervous.”
“I am.” She took a swallow of her Guinness, savoring it for a moment before she continued. “You make me nervous.”
“Do I, now?” I’d have thought she would be well beyond that stage after all the time we’d spent in bed together, but it was no matter. I inched a little closer to her, putting my hand at the base of her neck, one finger lightly brushing the raised bump of her beauty mark. After a moment, she looked up at me. As soon as she did, I bent my head down and kissed her.
The chocolate-and-coffee aftertaste of her sip of Guinness wet my tongue, and with only the tiniest amount of coaxing, she
opened for me, a soft hum running through her. I felt the vibrations of it beneath my fingertips.
All too soon, I remembered we were in public and broke away from her. My gaze lingered on her lips. She pulled the lower one inside, biting down on it. I went hard almost instantly, imagining her teeth on me. She’d bit me once, the last time we had sex, in that space between my neck and my shoulder. Hard enough to leave red marks. I wanted her to mark me all over.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” I ground out.
Brie laughed, a husky sound that would have brought me to my knees if I’d been standing. “At least a little idea.”
I KEPT PEEKING over Brie’s shoulder while she was looking around the Hips & Curves website on my laptop, trying to get a feel for the things that drew her eye. I already knew what drew my eye, but this was about her. We’d come back to my place after dinner—she had eventually given in and shared a piece of the chocolate cake with me, although she’d hardly taken more than two or three bites—and now she was ordering a few bras and panties and the like since she’d promised Tanya she would. She was on the sofa, both legs tucked up beside her, leaning back against the armrest. Since I’d just come in from walking the dogs, I was standing behind the couch and hoping to figure out what I might be able to buy for her that she’d actually wear—at least long enough for me to see her in it, watch her confidence grow, and then take it off her.
To my slight disappointment, she seemed to be veering toward the sensible and away from the sexy. It would take time, I knew, and more than a little encouragement for her to step outside her comfort zone. Simply getting her to buy clothes that were colorful and shapely instead of drab and boxy had taken no small amount of cajoling, even though it was clear from the way her face lit up that she liked what she saw in the mirror.
As she scrolled down a page of bras, a lacy black one caught my eye. I pointed at it on the screen. “What about something like that?” I asked.
In the Zone (Portland Storm 5) Page 13