Keys and Kisses: Untouchable Book Three

by Long, Heather

  “Not really a fan,” I admitted. I was not comfortable. At all. “It’s too tight.”

  “No such thing,” Cheryl said. “What do you think, Coop?”

  “Nope,” he said flatly, and we both glanced at him. Despite a scorching and intense stare, he gave me a lazy smile. “Homecoming dance. You dance in that outfit, and everyone is going to see your ass. So no, I think not.”

  “See, this is a no,” I said, probably way too brightly. Admittedly, I liked the way he was looking at me, but the dress was just too little. Seriously, too little.

  “I think it’s a maybe,” Cheryl countered. “It’s too form fitting to show your ass. You can move in it, right?”

  I really didn’t intend to find out.

  “C’mon, Coop. I know for a fact you can dance. Front and center.” Cheryl clapped her hands. “Come dance with our girl, and let’s see how it moves.”

  A startled look crossed Coop’s face before he shoved off the seat and headed toward me. “Just pretend the music in here is louder,” he offered, before crooking his finger.

  They were killing me.

  Laughter eddied upward. This was ridiculous.

  But I caught Coop’s offered hand and let him pull me to him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I just hoped like hell the top didn’t slide down.

  Thankfully, it stayed firmly in place. Hands on my hips, Coop started to sway. This close, it was hard to miss the firm muscle where I brushed against him. He was also a lot warmer than I was. They had the air conditioning turned way down.

  Oh, there was a benefit of ruching, my perking nipples were not on display. I might like this dress—a little. Especially since Coop looked at me like that. It was easy to move with him as he drifted in a simple box step.

  We’d learned this one together in sixth grade gym when our school had its very first dance. Coach had taken pity on all of us and taught everyone a simple way to dance. Coop had been a great partner. Except, he had belched every time we got too close and then would crack up as I glared.

  Thankfully, he made no such gesture now. With my hands that close to his hair, I curled my fingers to trace from his scalp to his nape. Faintly, somewhere, the music played overhead seemed a bit faster but we just kept moving slowly. Coop trailed his gaze down to my lips…

  Cheryl’s sudden burst of laughter sucked me right out of the moment. “Real dancing guys, though you look adorable at the moment.”

  “I’m good,” I said, slipping my hands free and trying not to respond to the quirk of his lips. “We still have twenty-six dresses to go.”

  “Fine,” Cheryl said, throwing up her arms. “Next ones then.” She marched back into her changing room, and Coop snaked his arms around my middle and pulled me back before I could head into mine.

  Lips next to my ear, he said, “I’m sorry.”

  Twisting to look at him, I raised my brows. “For what?”

  “I thought you were exaggerating,” he said in a tight whisper. “This really is going to take all night.”

  He pressed a kiss to my cheek, and I covered his hand on my abdomen. “Yep.” My stomach gurgled. “We will need some major sustenance if I manage to survive this.”

  “You will,” he promised. “I’ll be here, every step of the way.”

  That made me feel better. “Thanks for coming,” I said, and he grinned before hugging me against him.

  “Glad I could be here, now go find your dress, Cinderella.”

  I laughed. “That would be shoes.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cheryl called. “We’ll go out for shoes after we figure out the dresses.”

  I must have looked as stricken as I felt, because Coop put a hand over his mouth but couldn’t quite muffle the snicker. Someday, I was totally getting even for this. It wasn’t Coop’s fault, but he was here, and he was having too much fun at my expense.

  In honor of that, I kissed my finger before I flipped him off. Once I was shut back in the changing room, he cracked up for real. Leaning against the door, I stared at the dresses.

  This was going to take forever.

  Forever, it seemed, lasted about ninety-nine minutes. Not one hundred. Ninety-nine. Yes, I set a timer on my phone. I wanted something to write about in that journal I had to fill out, and as awkward as this was, it was so much better to try and focus on than the fact there’d been no word from Ian.

  Not a peep.

  I tried on the skater dress, the mermaid one, the dresses with one slit, dresses with two slits. I fit into the lace crop top and satin mini-skirt—Coop was a serious fan of that. The fact he took multiple pictures said as much.

  When I walked out in the pale, silvery blue illusion gap dress, however, Coop and Cheryl both went absolutely silent.

  “Wow,” he’d exhaled, and leaned forward.

  “I’ll say,” Cheryl commented slowly. “Twirl.”

  I did, and the skirt had the slightest bit of flare.

  “That might be the one.” She’d decided on hers, but we were still trying them all on. It was the principle of the thing. And I had to admit—I loved the dress she’d found for her. It was pink, lacy, and had a sheer lace overlay on a satin skirt. It was stunning. While not my favorite color, it looked amazing on her.

  I’d left the red dress for last. I had no idea who picked it out—I hadn’t seen it before we carried all the dresses in. It was simple, spaghetti straps, a curve bodice and the rest just fell straight down. No fitted waist or body-hugging cut. While I couldn’t wear my bra with it, it was the first dress I put on that I actually felt comfortable in.

  It clung without being clingy. The skirt moved easily and fell to my calves. The pair of slits played peek-a-boo with my knees but didn’t really gap open unless I moved.

  If Coop’s reaction to the illusion gap dress had been anything to go on, the red dress blew it out of the water.

  “That one,” he said without preamble as I stepped out. I grinned and glanced down, then rose up on my toes like I had on pretend heels.

  “Yeah?”

  I’d actually beaten Cheryl for once, but her door opened as I made a little twirl. She was back in her crop top and shorts. She paused to stare at me and nodded.

  “Definitely that one.”

  Just like that, I had a dress. I ran my hands over the hips on it and then faced Coop again. He nodded as he snapped a picture. “Yes, Frankie. That one. You look great, you look like you feel great, and it’s perfect.”

  Relieved and a little elated, I slipped back into the changing room and took the dress off. As I hung it up, I tugged out the tag and stared at it.

  That was two weeks of tips…for a dress.

  “Now that you have the colors,” Cheryl said. “We can go get shoes.”

  “No,” I answered. “Not tonight.”

  “But there’s a great place…”

  “I believe you, but I’m toast. I’m starving. And I’ve kept Coop up way past his bedtime.” I crossed my fingers. Please play along.

  “Well, she’s not wrong. You know, I’m eighteen on Thursday, it’s all down hill from here.”

  I grinned before mouthing Thank you, Coop to myself.

  “Well, it is almost ten, and we still need to buy these before they close.”

  Almost ten?

  Seriously?

  I snagged my phone from on top of my shorts and stared at it. There were some messages from Archie and from Jake. Both giving me ratings on the various dresses.

  Jerks.

  But I was grinning.

  The red dress won their votes, too.

  I glanced at the dress and then the phone. Then I tabbed to Ian’s message thread.

  Ghost silent.

  Me: I found a dress. It’s red.

  I hit send, then waited.

  Not even a read receipt.

  Sighing, I clicked the screen off and got dressed. The whole time, I argued with myself over the dress. Why would I spend that much on a dress for a dance?

  There were others tha
t I’d kind of liked, and they were less expensive. But I kept looking at the dress. It was my first school dance with a date. It was the first thing Ian told me he was going to ask me out to, and he said he would still take me, even if…even if we were only going to be friends.

  I lifted the dress off the hook as I popped open the door. Cheryl stood there, grinning. Then she gave me a hug. It startled me, but I hugged her back.

  “Thank you,” she said with a wider smile.

  “For?”

  “For coming out tonight and doing this. I had fun, and I know you thought I was crazy, but girl, that dress was waiting for you. You’re going to look like a million bucks.” Her blazingly bright smile encouraged me to believe her. “That said, you want to go to Mini’s or the Shoe Factory, they have the most comfortable heels, and they can color match if you can’t find the right ones. So if scheduling is a thing, I want you to know where to go. The Drop Shop also has really great accessories you can pick up, and I’ll text you my hair stylist. She does magical things. We should plan a day of pampering before the dance.”

  Um. No. But I smiled. Cheryl was exhausting me just talking about it, and that was all before the dance. “Thanks, I appreciate it. Sorry I’m not more enthusiastic.”

  “It’s okay,” she told me. “I know shopping seems like a boring thing, but it is exhausting. So, get your dress and go eat. We’ll talk on Monday, okay?”

  Coop took the dress from me as we followed Cheryl up to the counter. All the way there, I argued with myself, and Coop didn’t say a word. Cheryl paid for hers and then waited for me to take my turn.

  Fuck it.

  I took the dress and went up there. It was expensive, but gorgeous, and I felt good in it. Coop’s face had been worth it. I wanted to go to the dance, and I wanted to feel pretty.

  I sucked it up and paid for the dress. Then it was time for another hug. As we left the store, the late hour seemed to hit all at once. I hadn’t really slowed down today. I had chores and work the next day. And homework.

  Weariness swept through me again. But before we parted… “Cheryl?”

  She glanced over as she set her dress inside her little mini cooper. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you,” I told her. “Seriously. I had—fun.”

  “You bet. Night, Coop, thanks for being an honorary girl!”

  “My pleasure,” he said dryly, hooking an arm around my shoulder, and I leaned into him. “Next time, we should do our nails.”

  Cheryl laughed as she went to slide into the driver’s seat. “Oh, my mom usually does the mum the weekend before, so if you want to, I’ll give you her number to give your mom so she can show her how to make it—you know, if she needs help.”

  Oh.

  The Homecoming mum. I hadn’t even thought about that.

  “I’ll text it to you,” Cheryl said, then waved. “Mitch is waiting for me, so I need to get over there. He’s been grumbling for the last two hours since he found out Coop tagged along.” She rolled her eyes. “Boys. Bye!”

  Then she was out of there.

  “Shopping,” Coop said. “Sucks.”

  I laughed.

  “Yes, but I wasn’t kidding. I did kind of have fun.” I glanced up at him. “Thanks for coming along. I know this wasn’t what you had in mind for a date.”

  “I got to spend it with you,” he told me serenely. “That’s all that matters.”

  My stomach gurgled rudely.

  “Now, let’s feed you before you decide to eat me.” He made a face, and I laughed.

  “I’m not that hungry.”

  “Yet,” he teased. He took charge of the dress and got it hung neatly in the back. I’d just spent a fortune on a dress, and I was strangely okay with it.

  Whew.

  “Food,” Coop nudged me.

  Yep. Definitely food.

  You Went There

  Archie: Any word from him?

  Jake: No.

  Coop: Zip. Just got back.

  Archie: Ran late.

  Coop: Lots and lots of dresses.

  Jake: She looked good. How

  is she feeling?

  Archie: She looked awesome. She got the red,

  right?

  Coop: Yes to the red. Exhausted.

  Grabbed food, then home.

  Jake: Nothing fun?

  Coop: She was dead on her feet.

  Work tomorrow. Her mom wasn’t there.

  Archie: Good.

  Jake: I’ll swing by Bubba’s tomorrow.

  Coop: You went after him earlier.

  No luck at all?

  Jake: He didn’t want to talk.

  Coop: I get that.

  Jake: …

  Archie: Explain.

  Coop: Bubba’s not the guy

  who wants to start the fight.

  Jake: How is it a fight?

  Archie: Look, he wants out. Fine.

  Why is he the one still taking her

  to Homecoming?

  Coop: Not our call. It’s hers.

  He asked. She wants to go.

  Jake: Back up to the fight comment.

  Archie: Sooner or later, Frankie

  chooses.

  Jake: …

  Coop: Yep. He’s taking himself out of

  the fight. I get it.

  Jake: It’s bullshit.

  Archie: Well, now that we cleared that up…

  Next day…

  Coop: Homework hell today and I need a job.

  Jake: Morning to you, too

  Coop: Just need to get this done. Then see

  about finding a job. Thoughts?

  Jake: Fast food?

  Coop: Ugh. Thinking something flexible

  Jake: I run food.

  Coop: What?

  Jake: I signed up for the

  food app delivery.

  Gets me extra cash.

  Coop: …

  Jake: Yes, you need a car.

  Archie: Yeah, you need a car.

  Coop: *sigh*

  Jake: Talk to Frankie…

  Coop: She hates people driving

  her car.

  Archie: She really does.

  Jake: Talk to your mom.

  Birthday is this week.

  Coop: *sigh*

  Jake: Sorry man, I’d let you

  use mine, but already busy.

  Archie: I can loan you one.

  Coop: What?

  Archie: We have like ten cars here.

  I’ll look, but you can borrow one of these.

  Jake: Nice.

  Archie: At least ‘til you get one.

  Coop: …

  Jake: You just don’t want to pick him up

  anymore.

  Archie: LOL. Even playing field.

  Coop: Thanks. It’s weird. But

  seriously, thanks.

  Jake: I’ll grab you after she goes to

  work. We can take homework to

  Mason’s.

  Archie: Meet you there. Can

  look at cars after.

  Later…

  Bubba: Back.

  Jake: Where the hell have you been?

  Bubba: Went to Dallas with Dad.

  Jake: Did your phone break?

  Bubba: No. Just needed some time.

  Jake: You talk to Frankie yet?

  Bubba: I’ll talk to her tomorrow.

  Jake: You need to call her.

  Bubba: She got a dress.

  Jake: We know. Call her.

  Bubba: No.

  Jake: Bubba.

  Bubba: I said no. You guys

  all went too far, too fast.

  She’s hurting. She needs room to

  breathe.

  Jake: Yes, she is. She thinks you broke up with her.

  …

  …

  …

  Jake: Now you’re ghosting me again.

  Jake: Look, I don’t know what all is going on,

  but talk to us.

  Chapter Two

  Nobody Taught Us
To Quit

  “Wrap up your last order,” Marsha said, nodding to the shake I had mixing. “Then you can close out.” It was literally fifteen minutes early. Not that I was complaining, but I shot my manager a quizzical look. Marsha was awesome. Had been awesome last weekend when I was coming apart at the seams. Had covered for me to get out away from the guys and promised me time off when I needed it, because she didn’t want me to miss anything in my senior year.

  She definitely rated as one of my favorite people ever. Hard not to when she took the time to check on me—all this after giving me this job almost two years earlier when I really had zero experience.

  “After you wrap up, come in the back, okay?” She patted my shoulder and then hustled on. Most Sundays, we were busy as all get out with the post-church crowd, and today had been no exception. But the hustle diminished in the last hour, and the dinner rush hadn’t begun. It was a good time to call it done. I’d managed to get most of my sidework done, so I didn’t even have to finish that.