Can't Hardly Breathe (The Original Heartbreakers #4)

Stop. Thinking. About. Him.

In the midst of a thorough search, Dorothea found an emerald green shirt to match her eyes, with a choker neckline and an oval cutout to showcase a wee bit of cleavage. The waist cinched in while the bottom half flared to create the illusion of a ruffled skirt—though it was far too short to be classified as a skirt—with the front higher than the back. There was a black smudge on the bottom hem, but a good cleaning would definitely remove it. Considering the many stains she’d removed from sheets at the inn, she had the magic touch.

Ryanne selected a pair of short shorts. When Dorothea shook her head no, the girl nodded a yes. “Wear them with the shirt, and no one will be able to see the shorts from the back. It’ll look like you’re wearing a supershort dress. And from the front, the slit in the ruffle will have a peekaboo effect. This is both trendy and adorable.”

Her thighs... “I need to dress for the body I have, not the body I wish I had.”

Her friend ignored her. “You’ll wear cowgirl boots with it, of course.” She found a pair of black-and-white pants with a harlequin pattern and paired it with a shirt just like the first, only pink. “You’ll wear sandals with this one.”

The most Dorothea could promise? “I’ll try everything on.” And then she would tell Ryanne nothing had fit—which would be the truth, no doubt about it.

Two summer dresses joined the pile before Ryanne allowed her to enter the dressing room. And the stubborn girl stayed put while Dorothea changed. Everything but the harlequin pants fit and—shocker—actually flattered her figure.

Ryanne exchanged the pants for a bigger size, and voilá, they fit, as well.

Dorothea stood in front of the mirror, spinning to study herself from every angle.

“You’re about to turn me gay,” Ryanne announced. “And FYI, you’re buying these clothes. All of them. Well, except for the pants. I’m buying those. And a pair of hooker heels.”

“I couldn’t let you—”

“Actually, you can’t stop me.” Ryanne came up behind her, rested her chin on Dorothea’s shoulder and hugged her. Their eyes met in the mirror. “I haven’t always done right by you and Lyndie, but I will from now on.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most. And Lyndie...her dad wasn’t just a bully. Sometimes he beat the crap out of her, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.”

Horror washed through Dorothea, leaving a sticky film on her soul. “I didn’t know. But now... He only hit her where the bruises could be hidden by clothing, right?” she asked softly, remembering the many times her friend had flinched when innocently touched.

“Exactly right. Same deal with Lyndie’s husband. It wasn’t a fairy-tale marriage, but a freaking nightmare. I don’t know why she picked him. He was just like her dad, always using her as a punching bag.”

“I don’t... I can’t...” Dorothea clutched her now cramping stomach. “Why didn’t you guys tell me?”

“You had enough on your plate. And there’s no changing the past,” Ryanne said, “only the future.”

Everyone carried baggage, she realized. Some hid theirs better than others, but no one got through life without experiencing pain. And, whether you knew it or not, you were going to be the object of someone’s pain. Like Dorothea was for Holly. Like Jazz was for Dorothea. But you could also be the object of someone’s salvation.

Would Daniel be hers?

Wishful thought. “We will change the future,” she vowed. “Tomorrow will be better than today.”

“You know, I like this New Dorothea,” Ryanne said as Dorothea paid. “She’s willing to try new things without too much fuss, and she’s got a little more pep in her step. She even smiles.”

“I like her, too,” she admitted.

Arm in arm, they strode out of the store, only to draw up short when a man stepped in their path.

“Dorothea.” Familiar brown eyes roved over her. “You...look so pretty.”

“Jazz.” The stomach cramps started up again.

Sunlight poured over him. His golden hair was brushed back from his face, his jaw shaved clean of stubble. Though they’d parted a little over a year ago, and he was as handsome as ever, he appeared to have aged a decade. There were shadows under his eyes and new lines around them. The brackets around his mouth were so deep they resembled commas. However, he’d maintained his athletic build.

Have to be in tip-top shape for the camera, he used to say. And the public loved him for it. Women constantly posted about his boy-next-door good looks; they Tweeted him invitations to dinner and mailed him naughty photos. Dorothea used to sigh dreamily and think, Flirt all you want, girls. He belongs to me. He picked me.

Now she cringed. An emotionally healthy woman would have thought, We’re good together. He’s got my back, and I’ve got his. The hallmark of a good marriage. But no matter how strong, those thoughts would have been a lie. Jazz hadn’t guarded her back; he’d stabbed it.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

He wiped his hands on the sides of his pants, as if he was nervous. But he couldn’t be. He’d always tackled life head-on. It was one of the things she’d liked most about him. “I wanted to see you.”

“And you knew she’d be here?” Ryanne asked softly, menacingly. “How?”

“Your phone...there’s a track app. Remember?” he said, his gaze pleading with her. “You got it before our divorce.”

No, she hadn’t. “Or you added it when I wasn’t looking so you could ensure I wasn’t nearby when you wanted to sleep with other women.” Fury mounting, she whipped out her phone, hunted for the app—buried on a screen she never used—and took care of the problem then and there.

He pulled at his collar, uncomfortable. “Maybe I did. I don’t know.”

Liar! “Like I’ve told you repeatedly,” she snapped, “you and I have nothing to say to each other.”

“I just... I wanted you to see my face and hear my tone in person. To finally understand the depths of my feelings for you.”

Ryanne laughed at him. “Dude. Three out of three people agree—you’re an idiot.”

A fire-truck-red blush spread over his cheeks.

“Look,” Dorothea said with a sigh, “I’m seeing someone else. Several someones, actually.” Am I bragging? I think I’m bragging. Embracing the moment, she fluffed her hair.

Jazz offered her a soft, almost pitying smile. “Maybe you are. Maybe you aren’t. But that doesn’t mean we can’t get to know each other again.”

What a rat! He thought she’d fibbed to make herself seem more desirable. Like she’d really lower herself to use a method from his bag o’ tricks.

“This conversation is like a circle. Pointless. Let’s go.” She ushered Ryanne around him and headed for the car.

“This isn’t the end, Dorothea.” His determined voice followed her. “I love you, and I want you back. I’ll do whatever it takes to win you.”