The Good Girls

“Nailed it,” Carson whispered, and they both burst into laughter.

 

Then Carson took a right down a long aisle of Halloween costumes—and not cheesy ones either, but period pieces: full-out, Southern belle hoop skirts, lacy, dramatic Brides of Dracula getups, Sherlock Holmes blazers and trousers, vibrant jockey silks, and realistic-looking Civil War uniforms. Julie followed, amazed that Halloween was so close—how was the year moving so quickly? Carson wandered over to a tall rack of full-length gowns and held out a deep plum dress with a high-low hem to Julie. She stepped closer and ran her hands across the strapless bodice, letting her fingers caress the smooth silk overlay. It was red carpet worthy. The stitching was spectacular, and the cut was exquisite—the gown was delicate but structured, obviously the work of a master designer.

 

“Try it on,” Carson said. “It’ll look incredible on you.”

 

“Okay,” Julie giggled, stopping in front of a round display teeming with men’s suits. “But only if you try this one on.” She held out a royal blue three-piece suit of plush velvet. “And this.” She plucked a bowler hat from atop the rack, stood up on her tiptoes, and plopped it onto his head.

 

“Deal.” He grinned at her and headed for one of the two curtained stalls.

 

Julie slipped into the other one and dragged the thick curtain across, pinching it at the corners to block out any prying eyes. She kicked off her skinny jeans and boatneck cashmere T-shirt, both of which were bought at this very store a few months ago. The thought of Carson—no more than a foot away, on the other side of the flimsy wall separating their two dressing rooms—made her shiver. She could hear the whoosh of his jeans dropping to the floor, and the rustle of his sweater as he lifted it over his head. He was practically naked, and so close. Julie quickly stepped into the dress and reached behind her for the zipper, but she couldn’t pull it up.

 

She stepped out of the fitting room and stood outside Carson’s curtain, waiting for him to come out. “Ahem,” she said, clearing her throat with mock impatience. “I’m the girl here, and I’m ready way faster than you are.”

 

Carson grunted behind the curtain. “If I’m not mistaken, your outfit consists of exactly one piece, while mine has many, many more.” Julie heard the metallic phhhhttt of a zipper and then the curtain rings scraped loudly as he flung the fabric aside. She burst out laughing at the sight of his six-foot-two-inch frame draped in head-to-toe blue velvet. His rich skin and sea-glass eyes practically glowed against the color and texture of the suit. She hadn’t thought it was possible, but a comical outfit only made Carson more handsome.

 

“Are you laughing at me?” An exaggerated expression of shock was on his face. “Personally, I think I look awesome.”

 

Julie struggled to keep a straight face. “It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

 

But Carson wasn’t listening to her response. He’d noticed her dress—or, more accurately, her body in the dress. He sucked in his breath. “Wow.”

 

Julie looked down at the gown, which she was holding closed with one hand. “Oh, right. A little help here?” She gestured to the zipper on the back.

 

“With pleasure.” Carson stepped toward her, his crisp suit making a loud crinkling noise as he walked. He spun her around and zipped up her dress. Then Julie looked in the mirror. It fit her to perfection, snug where it was supposed to be snug, the bodice giving her movie-star cleavage.

 

She turned around again to face him. He was gazing at her with a hungry look on his face. Julie liked the feeling of his eyes on her, but she suddenly became aware of a salesgirl’s attention turning toward them. “Um, you forgot your hat,” Julie whispered to Carson.

 

“Oh, of course,” he whispered back. He turned and grabbed it from the dressing room and put it on. He looked delicious. “Why are we whispering?”

 

Julie glanced out the front window of the store to the empty street. “Paparazzi.”

 

“Right.” He nodded knowingly. “They’ll definitely want a picture of you in that dress.”

 

“Um, I think they’re going to be equally excited to see you in that suit. Because you look—”

 

But then Carson cut her off, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her into his dressing room. In one motion, he yanked the curtain closed, spun her around, and pressed her against the mirror. Their lips met. Julie felt his body against hers and ran her hands down his back, the velvet crunching under her fingers.

 

“Are you guys finding everything okay?”

 

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