The Hot Shot (Game On #4)

When I found out that Dex’s girlfriend, Fiona, was both an interior decorator and furniture maker, I went to her for help. While Finn was at training camp, Fi and I started decorating. Between the two of us, we chose an ebony stain for the floors and clean white paint for the walls to let the architecture shine. We kept the furniture comfortable but with modern lines, set up a home gym and movie room, an art studio in the attic, and a photography studio in an outbuilding near the back of the property that had its own entrance, and I loved the space more than my old loft.

Was the house too big for us? It didn’t feel that way. We filled it with friends and family and love. In the summer, we hosted James and Jamie’s wedding. I ended up getting drunk and inelegantly bawling during my best woman speech. Finn consoled me by taking me skinny dipping later that night when all the guests had gone. He’d been right, drunken sex with someone you love really was fun—in a sloppy, no-holds-barred, wake-up-the-neighbors kind of way.

By the time fall arrived, our house was our home, and I loved Finn with a depth I didn’t know I was capable of.

“I can’t believe I thought this was a good idea,” Fi grumbles as she stands before the mirror in my dressing room. We’re close friends now, and I’m only sorry we didn’t meet sooner.

I take in the little green dress, so short it barely covers her bum, and the shimmery pink tights with matching ballet flats. “You look cute as hell.”

Fi scowls and flicks one of the iridescent wings strapped to her back. “Cute? I’m a masochist, is what I am. My whole life I’ve been compared to TinkerBell. And now I’m dressing up like her, for fuck’s sake.”

Petite with killer curves, a button nose, big green eyes, and wispy blond hair, Fiona definitely looks the part.

I grin wide. “Embracing your inner Tink gives you power over her. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Shut up.”

“Dex will lose his shit when he sees that dress.”

She grins too. “That’s the plan.”

“What is he going as?”

She winks, an evil glint in her eyes. “A lumberjack.”

I can’t help laughing. Mainly because I know Dex will be grumbling over whatever he wears. “Oh, man. Talk about hot lumberjack porn.”

“I know. I think my panties might go up in flames when I see him.” She fluffs out her tiny skirt. “What about Finn?”

Downstairs, the catering staff I hired is setting up for the Halloween party Finn and I are hosting. We’d done most of the decorations ourselves, but the caterers will put the finishing touches on things.

“He won’t tell me. It’s supposed to be a surprise. And speaking of…” I walk to the garment bag hanging by the mirror. “My costume is one as well.”

“Finn picked out your costume?” Fi gives me a look that’s part amused, part afraid. “And you trusted him? What if it’s a carrot?”

I snort. “All the things you could have come up with and you pick carrot?”

“Felt nice and random.”

I press a hand against the bag, prolonging the moment, because I know it will be good. “Finn would never dress me as a carrot. No, he was downright giddy when he left this for me with strict, do not look until you’re getting dressed instructions.”

“Well…” Fi waves a hand. “Let’s see it.”

Taking a breath, I slowly unzip the bag. Shimmery white tulle pours out as if it’s been waiting to spring free. My breath kicks up a little.

“What is it?” Fi asks behind me. “An angel costume?”

With trembling hands, I part the edges of the bag. He couldn’t have. He didn’t…

A happy laugh bubbles up and bursts free as my vision blurs. “He did.” I press my hand to my mouth, still grinning with. “He did.”

The midnight back bodice is soft velvet with a deep v-shaped neckline. The skirt is frothy snow white tulle, layers and layers of it that rustle and bounce at the touch of my hand. Black vines snake out from the bodice to lay upon that pristine skirt.

“Wow,” Fiona whispers at my side. “That’s…”

“Grace Kelly’s dress from Rear Window.” Another messy, sobbing laugh escapes me. “He actually got me a new one.” Only this version is so much better than my old, sadly destroyed knock-off dress. This is a masterpiece, a truly authentic copy of Kelly’s iconic dress, down to the slim patent leather belt and the even deeper v-shaped back.

I explain to a confused Fiona about how I’d worn it before, how Finn recognized, and how I’d lost it.

“And he had a new one made for you.” Her gaze is dreamy as she touches the short sleeve of the bodice. “Touchdown, Mannus.”

There’s even a bag filled with a pearl bracelet cuff, strand necklace, and cluster earrings.

Fi helps me get ready, pinning my hair back in a swirly chignon, and I hunt down a pair of strappy black heels.

My dress swishes and sways as I walk down the stairs. But I don’t find Finn waiting for me. In fact, he conspicuously absent by the time the party is in full swing. I’m surrounded by friends but no Finn.

I don’t know if I should be worried or annoyed.

Searching for him is slow going, as costume clad guests stop me every few feet to compliment my dress. Finally, I reach the back garden where Finn has ordered a dance floor to be placed beneath strings of little ghost-shaped lights. A band is set up at the far end and is playing a cover of “Werewolves of London.”

I catch a glimpse of Jake’s face at the edges of the crowd and head his way.

“Jake, have you seen—What the hell are you wearing?” I squeak out with a laugh.

Bland as can be, Jake glances down the length of his body before answering. “A bunny suit.”

Rolondo, Dex, Fiona, and North are with him, and they all start to crack up.

“He looks like a pink nightmare,” North intones.

Jake raises fuzzy, pink middle finger in his direction.

I bite down on my grin. “You lost a bet, didn’t you?” And here I thought Fi was way off with her carrot worries.

Jake’s lips purse. “Yes.” He brightens a little. “Though I can’t entirely say I’m disappointed.”

I have no idea why. He really does look like a pink nightmare. All six feet two of him.

“Look,” I say, snapping out of my bunny induced daze. “I’ll give you a carrot if you tell me where Finn is.”

Jake’s smile turns smug as he nurses his beer. “Oh, I think he’ll show soon enough.”