"Yes. Hello. I'm just here for my—"
My attention snapped to the deep, demanding voice on the other side of the shop and found Ash staring at me, his lips parted and a slight twist of confusion on his brow.
"Zelda." He sounded breathless.
"You can't be here," Diana cried, advancing toward him with her arms raised like she was trying to chase a raccoon away from her kitchen garden. "You can't see the dress—"
"Not now, Mom."
Ash crossed the shop, Magnolia and Diana watching him as he rounded the pedestal to stand between me and the mirror. I sensed a hot flush climbing up my chest and neck, settling at my cheeks.
He didn't say anything as he took in the dress, the headband, the bouquet. Then, he cupped my flaming cheek and leaned in for a kiss almost as airy as this gown. "Now this is what I mean when I say I want you in a Zelda dress."
Behind us, Diana let out a cheer and Magnolia said something about not letting it go to her head but neither of us paid them any attention.
Ash leaned in, dragged his lips up my neck, and asked, "How quickly can you get out of this? I need to know for right now and the next time you wear it for me."
18
Ash
"Don'tyou think we should say goodbye?" Zelda asked as I led her out of the dress shop, my hand fisted on the waist of her skirt like a true savage while she waved to my mother and sister.
It wasn't as though I was truly dragging Zelda away or I doubted her willingness to leave the shop under her own free will. It was that I rather enjoyed the visceral satisfaction of claiming her, possessing her. It was thatsherather enjoyed it too, and there was no material difference between fisting her skirt on a sidewalk and cinching my belt around her wrists in the bedroom.
God, the things this woman made me feel and think. The things she made mewant.
"I think finding you in a wedding dress calls for the suspension of all polite conduct," I replied, scanning the street for the arrival of our car service.
"And why is that, boss?"
I couldn't wait any longer. I just couldn't. "They've had you all afternoon. It's my turn now." With my hand still gripping her skirt, I brought my lips down to hers.
"I didn't plan that," she whispered between kisses. "I mean, I didn't expect to try it on."
"Doesn't matter," I murmured to her cheek. "Damage is done, love."
She leaned away, scowled up at me. "What do you mean by that? By 'damage?'"
"It means I won't be able to scrub the memory of you standing there like a glowing moonbeam bride and I don't believe I care to scrub it anyway. Not when I know I want to see you just like that again."
The car pulled up and I handed Zelda into the back seat. Rush hour—orhours, as it was in Boston—meant we inched through traffic one jerk and stop after another though we were too busy touching, kissing, leaning into each other to care.
"What did the doctor say?" she asked, her lips on my jaw. "Let's talk about that. Tell me about your shoulder."
I kissed a line up her neck. "It's fine. No surgery."
"More," she demanded. "There has to be more."
I shook my head. I wasn't getting into the doctor's recommendation of light activity and physical therapy if I didn't regain full range of motion in a few weeks. Unimportant to my present needs. "Nothing else to report."
She laughed, saying, "I doubt that. Details, please."
I flipped open the top buttons of her little sweater, only enough to reach inside, and ran my knuckles over the gentle rise of her breast. "Fuck the details."
Zelda covered my hand with hers as she glanced at the driver. "Ash, I don't want—"
"No one gets to see you but me," I whispered into her dark hair. I scraped a finger over her nipple before buttoning her back up.
