“I didn’t, it was that damn Irish accent that hooked me like a fish.” She continues looking through the racks.
“Hook, line and sinker,” I whisper under my breath.
She slaps me hard on the behind and the lady behind the counter frowns.
“Behave,” I whisper as my eyes glance at the shop assistant.
“No,” she snaps.
She pulls out a white dress and holds it up to her body. “I like this one.”
I hand her the black and the red one. “Try them all on.”
She smiles, kisses me softly, and then disappears into the changing room I take a seat on the large, black, velvet wingback chair and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
“What are you doing in there?” I ask.
“Nothing. I don’t like the red or the black.”
I frown. “I didn’t get to see them on. Show me.”
“Nope.”
I shake my head in frustration.
I wait for another five minutes. Oh, this is ridiculous. How long can it take to put a dress on?
“Oh shit, Alastar, this dress is really expensive,” she whispers as she hesitates for a moment. “Don’t worry, we will go to a cheaper shop,” she calls from the changing room.
“Stop it!” I snap. “Get it on and get out here.”
“Twinkle, it’s a lot.”
“It’s only money.” I sigh. Why would she even look at the price tag?
She laughs out loud from behind the curtain and it’s a sound that penetrates through my bones. She pulls the dressing room curtain back and beams happily at me as she brushes her hands nervously on her behind.
She likes this dress.
I love this dress.
Emotion fills me. She is without a doubt the most beautiful woman I think I have ever seen.
“You like?” she breathes nervously as she looks down at herself.
It’s all I can do not to take her in my arms and kiss her madly. “I love.”
In the end I do kiss her gently, restraining myself from showing her my carnal appreciation.
She giggles against my lips. “As much as I love you in lingerie?”
I laugh out loud. This woman, this breath of fresh air that has come into my life and spun it completely on its head, loves the idea of me in women’s underwear.
I smile as I pay the cashier for her dress. The funny thing is, if she genuinely asked me to wear lingerie...
I probably would.
For at this moment, there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for her.
I am completely and utterly smitten.
Emerson
“Ouch! You’re burning my hair,” I cry as I try to pull away from my Dr. Evil hairdresser, Brielle.
“Shut up.” She pulls my hair as she puts it into the hot roller. “It has to be tight if you want the curls to stay in.”
We are in the main bathroom of Alastar’s house and it’s early Friday evening, before the gala ball. Brielle is doing my hair, although at this stage I really wish she wasn’t. I should have listened to Twinkle and booked in at the hairdressers for some pain free styling.
“I want some hair left at the end of this night, you know?” I frown as she pulls my hair again and I wince in pain. I put my hands up to my scalp. “You’re fucking pulling it out,” I half yell.
“Shut the fuck up!” she snaps as she holds the comb between her teeth in concentration. “You are the worst client ever.”
“Yeah, well, trust me, making people bald is not something to be proud of.”
She rips my hair again and I wince.
Alastar puts his head around the corner. “Everything okay in here?” he asks as he looks between the two of us, unsure of what we are doing.
“Yes, she’s being a wimp. No pain, no gain,” Brielle mutters with the comb still between her teeth.
I smile and hold out my hand for him. He bends and kisses me on the cheek. Embarrassment temporarily fills me. He is used to seeing beautiful women getting their hair done while drinking green blended juices and acting glamorous. Here I am, too tight to go the hairdresser, perched on the toilet with the lid down, drinking wine with my best friend who is literally scalping me while we swear and curse at each other. I am the opposite of glamorous. I am the anti-glamour.
My eyes drop down Alastar’s body. He is wearing black pants and a crisp white shirt which is finished off with a black bow tie. His wavy dark hair is sitting in the best messy style on the planet, and his big, beautiful lips are primed for kissing.
He stands leaning on the doorframe watching Brielle at work.
I am in a robe, my make up is done, and I will slip into my dress as soon as Dr. Evil finishes my hair.
He feels me watching him and he raises a brow.
“You look hot.” I smile as my eyes drop down his body.
His eyes flash to Brielle, and I know he doesn’t feel comfortable with me saying that in front of her.
“You do.” Brielle smiles around her comb as she inspects him herself. “Smoking,” she adds.
He smiles and, feeling uncomfortable with the compliments, nods and exits the room.