“What are you doing here?” That sounded nice and calm, she congratulated herself.
Dwayne rocked on his heels and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Tim didn’t want uniforms, so we’re getting fitted for tuxes. Lucky for us.”
“Lucky?” When he tipped his head, she fell in step with him walking to the door. “I would think you were used to the uniform.”
“Cammies, sure. Those aren’t so bad. Not the one we’d wear for a wedding. They’re hot as a bitch in heat and twice as annoying…” He trailed off and she looked up. His neck was bright red and he looked sheepish. “Sorry. Uh, I just mean they’re uncomfortable. A monkey suit should feel like pajamas in comparison.”
Hmm. Though she’d become accustomed to cursing, not hearing it much before moving to the States, rarely did anyone apologize for it. It was almost sweet that he would be concerned for her and check himself. When he reached around her back to open the door, she tried hard not to feel the little thrill at the contact, at the security of his huge arm sheltering her body.
This was definitely not her assignment. She was supposed to be thinking of available men who would be interested in her. Not emotionally unavailable, never-going-to-want-her, too-much-to-handle men.
“Good luck with your fittings.” Before he could answer, she scurried through the racks of dresses toward the left side of the store, where her friends were flipping through a binder with pictures. Her purse caught once on a rack and she had to stop and detangle herself. Please don’t be watching me. Please don’t be watching me fight with a rack of clothes like an idiot. She wouldn’t look. She wouldn’t look. She… okay, she looked back and watched Dwayne melt into the sea of display tuxedos on the right side of the store. One tiny peek at his back couldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t be that bad of an idea if she let her eyes just drift down the line of his back to his butt either. Not a problem at all. No problem—
Something sharp jabbed her on the temple with enough force to have her eyes water and stop her in her tracks.
“Ow!” With some quick footwork and unique hand placement, she managed to barely catch another rack of dresses before they toppled to the floor. This place was a death trap.
Rubbing the spot on her forehead, she kept her eyes straight ahead and sat down next to Madison. Madison was peering over Skye’s shoulder, who was flipping through a binder full of dresses and color swatches.
Skye pointed to a pretty floor-length gown in teal. “I really think you should try this style on. The A-line is flattering for anyone and—”
“And my shoulders will look like a linebacker in that cut.” Madison’s tone said she’d rather take a bullet than wear the dress on page seven.
Skye blew out a breath, shifting the hair that frizzed around her face. “Okay then. Let’s try this one on page nineteen. I think—”
“That green color will make me look sickly? Yes, I agree.”
“Madison,” Veronica murmured.
“Sorry.” Deflated, Madison sank back into her chair. “I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?”
“No,” Veronica tried to soothe, though she sort of agreed.
“Yes,” Skye said at the same time, then patted her knee. “But I still love you. And this dress comes in several colors.”
“Oh.” Madison was appeased.
“How about this one?” the bride asked, pointing to another page.
Skye finally chose two different dresses that she wanted to see. A quick consultation with the store clerk found she had one of each dress for Madison and Veronica to try on.
“I only have the dress from page nineteen in a size four.”
“That’d be my size.” Madison stood.
“And it’s only in the green. But you can order it in any of the other colors, of course,” the clerk reminded them quickly when Madison’s face clouded over. “The important part is seeing how it fits.”
“Just head to the dressing room, oh sickly green one.” Skye gave her back a gentle shove and off she went, holding the dress with the interesting color palette.
The sales clerk held out the second dress, which happened to be Veronica’s favorite. “It’s a size too big for you, but when you come out we can use clips to hold it back so you get a good idea of what it will look like when it’s properly sized.”
It was a dusty rose color, with a strapless sweetheart neckline. The hem, at least on the model, hit right above the knee. Shorter than she was used to, but not too bad. Her favorite part, though, was the little belt that had rhinestones on the buckle. It added a fun little eye-catching pop. Something she wasn’t used to, but couldn’t resist. Veronica took the dress and made her way to the middle of the store, where the fitting rooms were.
“Madison, I’m going to need your help here in a second with the zipper.”
She quickly shucked her clothing and pulled on the cute dress, but when it came time to zip the dress up, the zipper caught. She twisted her arm, tried to shift the material of the dress one way and the other, but nothing worked.
“Madison?”
No answer.
“Skye?”
Neither woman seemed to be around. They’d likely walked onto the mirrored staging area to check out their dresses.
She tried for the zipper again. No way was she leaving the dressing stall with the thing halfway undone. She might have graduated from wearing, as Skye called them, schoolmarm clothing to shopping for more contemporary styles that actually showed her arms and legs, but there was no way she could just flounce out onto the showroom floor and let her dress droop down around her back. If it fell, she’d be mortified.
Just as she started to wedge herself into a corner for leverage, thinking this time she finally had the right angle, the curtain shifted behind her.
“Oh, thank you.” She breathed a sigh of relief and let her forehead drop to the wall. Her prayers had been answered. Madison heard her calling. “I apparently lack the third arm necessary to get into this dress myself.”
The material tugged together in the back, drawing it tight across her breasts for a moment. The fingers that fumbled with the hook on the back felt thick, almost clumsy. After a moment, she couldn’t breathe. No, it wasn’t the fit of the dress. It was the realization that it wasn’t Madison behind her, seeing her exposed more than she ever would have wanted.
She tried to turn, but couldn’t. Though hooked at the top, the dress would still fall. All she needed for the humiliation to be complete would be to actually flash the intruder.
“Please go away.” Her voice was so quiet, distant even to her own ears. The flush that crept up her neck and into her face burned almost painfully.
“Easy. I’m just trying to do you a favor. No ulterior motives here.”
Dwayne. She should have known. For some reason she couldn’t explain, the panic subsided marginally. But it was only replaced with a new form of tension when the back of his fingers brushed against the skin of her lower back, working to line the zipper up. Goose bumps spread up her back, over her arms, causing her to shiver.
“Cold?” He leaned forward and she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck, where her braid was flipped forward.
She should pull away. Cover her front, jerk away, and scream. Men didn’t just… come into women’s dressing rooms like this. Did they? But her body was paralyzed from doing anything but shaking her head.
As the zipper found its track and he pulled it up, the rasp of metal on metal was one of the most intimate sounds she’d ever heard in her life. How bizarre, to be, what was the phrase? Turned on. To be turned on by getting dressed, and not the other way around.
“There.” His voice was low in her ear, husky almost. “All trussed up.”
She turned then. It was time for a blistering lecture on being rude, on assuming, on the arrogance of walking in on a woman undressed.
“Thank yo
u.”
Wait, that wasn’t it. But she honestly couldn’t form any heated words. She wasn’t feeling them. They weren’t coming from her heart.
Hallelujah. She was finally shedding her former mentality.
“That’s quite a sight.”
“Hmm?” She focused her eyes back on him. “What?”
He twirled a finger, and catching his meaning, she faced the mirror.
She still held one hand over her chest, since the dress was a size too big. But despite the awkward stance, she liked what she saw. There was a flush to her cheeks, just enough to add some color to her normally pale complexion, which complemented the dress’s color. Her eyes were wide, amusement shining. And her mouth was split into a huge grin.
Joyful. She looked truly joyful. And not at all scared.
“Pretty damn beautiful.” Dwayne placed his hands on her shoulders, his calluses feeling decadent on her skin. He leaned over and whispered, “The dress looks good too.”
She could only nod.
“You should smile like that more often.”
I intend to.
***
Dwayne shifted back into his own dressing room and shut the curtain tight. The throbbing in his head made him nauseous, and he pressed his thumbs to his eyes to relieve the pressure.
He shouldn’t have gone in there. No ulterior motives his ass. He’d been drawn to the little breathless sounds, the struggles, and he knew damn well it was Veronica, and that she’d be in some form of undress. And despite his better judgment, he’d peeked.
Though startled, he didn’t think Veronica had been scared. No, the way her breath had caught, her face had flushed, she looked almost like she was ready for him to toss her up against the wall, scrunch up her dress, and give her something to really smile about.
And his body was still tight with a desire to do just that. Except he couldn’t, for more reasons than he wanted to think about at the moment. But the most important being… it wouldn’t be fair to Veronica, on many levels.
“Dickweed, you ready yet?” The curtain flew back and Jeremy stood, annoyance on his face. “We’ve been waiting.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged into the suit coat and buttoned it while following Jeremy to the other side of the store, away from the women.
Tim stood, in a matching suit but lighter colored vest, waiting. “Took you long enough. You forget how to dress yourself?”
“Bite me.” Dwayne stepped onto the riser next to Tim, Jeremy taking his place on the other side. Together they spun to face the wall-length mirror.
“Not bad.” Tim adjusted his tie.
“So this is what we look like all cleaned up.” Jeremy brushed imaginary lint off his sleeve and grinned.
“What made you go with suits? Thought we were doing the tux thing?” Not that Dwayne was going to complain. Hell no.
Tim shrugged. “Seems a little more low-key than black tie. Tuxes seemed overkill. Too Bond.”
A saleswoman popped her head in, then another behind her. Their eyes were wide, and Dwayne wasn’t too keen on the jackal-like smiles that stretched their dual bright red lips. “Can we help you gentlemen with anything?”
Given the way their eyes were devouring him and Jeremy, Dwayne wasn’t sure how to avoid that land mine.
“Yeah, you know, is this tie right?” Jeremy, who was busy concentrating on the mirror and not on the predatory looks the women were sending their way, didn’t see the hazard looming. “I’m just not sure; suits and ties aren’t really part of our daily wardrobe.”
“Oh my God,” Dwayne muttered under his breath. “You gotta be shittin’ me.”
“Madison’s gonna kill you,” Tim sang softly.
“What?” Jeremy gave him a confused look.
The girls practically kicked each other trying to get to Jeremy first, but the taller blonde won. She cooed over how cute he looked in his suit, hands busy with his tie, brushing against his chest. Fawning. Straight up fawning. No other word for it.
“Need some help?” The smaller blonde’s hands brushed against the side of Dwayne’s neck in the pretense of fixing his tie.
He took a half-step back, hoping she’d take the subtle hint. “No, I think I’m good.”
“Oh my God, your arms are huge!” the taller one squealed at Jeremy.
“Christ,” Tim muttered. “This has death written all over it.”
“Well, isn’t this just cozy.”
All five turned to see Madison standing at the entrance of the men’s side of the store. Arms crossed over her chest, she tapped one high heel in rapid time. Her face was pinched. And if eyes were laser beams, Jeremy would be smoking. The woman next to him would have been ash.
Death just came knockin’.
“Hey, shouldn’t you be over on the girly side with Skye?” Tim hopped off the riser and came to give her a once-over. “You look pretty good though.”
Madison smacked his chest. “She sent me over here on a little recon mission. Making sure you guys look good in your suits so we don’t have to change up the order. Everything fitting?”
“We’re just double-checking,” Tall Blonde told her. The tone, however, said, Get lost; you’re not invited to the party.
“Hey, Mad.” Jeremy took a step away from the saleswoman and shot her a smile. “You look cute.”
“I look sick,” she corrected, brushing a hand down the skirt. “This is so not my color. But you seem to be having… fun.”
Five minutes too late, Jeremy must have registered the picture he was presenting. But rather than a look of guilt, he shot her a grin. “Hey, just getting a little help.”
Madison just rolled her eyes, but she smiled a little. These two might kid, but Dwayne knew there was no real heat in their argument. “Dwayne, how about you? Everything fit okay? Need any help?”
“Fits just fine, sweetness.” He took the opportunity to disengage fully from Shorter Blonde and walked over to give her a kiss of gratitude. Not that she knew she’d just saved him. “How are things on the shiny side?”
“Shiny side? Oh, right.” She fingered the wide sash of the mint green dress. “Skye’s dress is perfect. And Veronica is adorable.”
More than adorable. But he wasn’t exactly supposed to know that. So he kept his mouth shut. “Sounds like you ladies are all set.”
“So we can get out of here?” Jeremy materialized by his side, looking anxious to get the hell out of the room suddenly. Whether he wanted to escape the overeager saleswoman or Madison’s narrowed gaze, Dwayne wasn’t sure.
Chapter 6
The guys headed back to the dressing area. As he shrugged out of his jacket, he heard Veronica call out.
“Tim, are you in here?”
“Yeah,” he answered from the next stall over.
“Skye’s coming back in, so you can’t come out until she’s secure.”
“What is this—a military operation? Christ, why did I allow my mother to suggest all this?”
Veronica huffed. “Is that a yes?”
Tim sighed. “Yeah. I’ll stay in here ’til someone gives the okay.”
Dwayne poked his head through the curtain. Veronica scowled at him and shooed at him with her hand.
“Go away. You’re not supposed to look.”
“Hey, I’m not the groom. Maybe I just want a little sneak peek of my own.” The peek he wanted was of Veronica.
She was too cute. Her braid was more out than in, her cheeks were flushed with happiness, and despite her stern look, her lips curved into a telltale smile that said she was in too good a mood to bother bickering with him any. The dress, which had gaped earlier, was now tight across her chest and torso, flaring out gently at the hips. But when she turned, he could see the white clips holding it back. Ah, so that’s how they made it work. Just one more female secret.
“Yo
u look nice.”
She looked down and smoothed the skirt in an unconscious gesture of pure feminine pleasure. “Thank you.”
“Need any help with the zipper?”
Well, that burst the happiness bubble. She stalked to him, heels thumping on the carpet, and pointed her finger at his nose. “You… you…”
“Me?” He grabbed her finger—so tiny compared to his own hand—turned her wrist gently, and placed a kiss on her palm.
Her annoyance melted away, leaving only confusion. Her lips parted slightly, and he was dying to yank her into his dressing room and see if she tasted as good as she looked. But the moment he started to tug… he was stopped by Skye’s voice.
“Veronica? Is everything okay?”
Wide eyes still staring at him, unblinking, she whispered, “Yeah.”
A moment passed, then another, and Dwayne debated how fast he could toss Veronica over his shoulder and bolt out the front door, when once again Skye’s voice intruded.
“Veronica? Is Tim hiding? Can I come in?”
That broke the spell. She blinked, shook her hand until he loosened his grip, and she scooted to the entrance. “Yes, it’s safe.”
Safe. What a lie. Dwayne slipped back into his room to finish undressing. What the hell was the matter with him? He’d been seconds away from dragging Skye’s cousin to his car for… what? And to what purpose? She was a beautiful woman, sweet, and completely not for him. And that wasn’t because of any deficit on her part. She was a little too sweet for him. She’d never be able to hang with his particular brand of clumsy country boy.
Not to mention the fact that he shouldn’t be dating—or seeing—anyone right now. Not while he was still getting his life back in order after a deployment. And his mental health was still up for debate as well. They always warned against huge life changes directly after a deployment. Taking sweetie Veronica into his life wouldn’t benefit either of them.
They were sound, logical reasons. He agreed with every one of them. If he brought it up, Tim and Jeremy would say the same.
Officer and the Secret (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.) Page 6