I perch myself at an island stool and just wait.
Thankfully, only a handful of minutes later, I hear the familiar sound of the front door opening.
49
COLE
Ifreeze. The carry-on in my hand drops to the floor with a thud, my suit jacket landing on top of it, as I stare at the vision in my kitchen.
Hiring a team to help her get ready was a risk. She may not have fully dove into her past with her ex, but I know that he was controlling. The prospect of her thinking that I was doing the same makes me sick to my stomach. I just wanted her to feel like a queen.
I wanted her to be pampered, and tonight, I want her to feel the way I see her. Like the most beautiful woman in the room.
“Freya,” I breathe, unable to find any other words.
She looks…wow.
She looks fucking incredible.
The bright blue dress is the perfect contrast to her pale skin and strawberry-blonde hair. It makes her eyes pop in a way I haven’t seen before. Her makeup is light, but flawless, and her hair is up in an elaborate do, exposing her neck.
My fists clench at my sides as desire washes through me.
It was already bad enough after spending the night away from her. But seeing her now…I don’t think I’ve ever needed anything so much in my life.
As I stand there staring, I swear my suit shrinks a couple of sizes. All I want to do is shed it before peeling that dress from Freya’s body and spending the night worshipping her.
“You look…fuck…” My legs carry me forward. As I close the space between us, the sweet scent of her perfume gets stronger, and it only makes everything worse. “Unbelievable.”
She tips her head back to keep eye contact as I step right into her body. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pin her against me. If I can’t have her right now, then I need to feel her. I need to know she’s real and not just a vivid part of my imagination.
“Fucking hell,” I groan again as my eyes dart over her face, taking her in.
Her lips twitch as if she wants to say something, but no words come out.
“What is it, Whirlwind?” I ask, concern pinching my brows.
“Y-you like it?”
A laugh erupts. “You’re kidding, right? You look incredible.”
A smile begins to appear.
“You’re happy for me to go to this event wearing this?”
Her question is like a kick in the balls. I fucking hate the motherfucker who did this to her. Freya has no reason, ever, to question how she looks or what she’s wearing. If she likes it, if it makes her feel confident, then that’s all that matters.
“Baby,” I say, cupping her cheeks. “You could go in a trash bag if it made you happy. I would be proud to have you standing next to me.”
Her breathing falters.
“I’m sorry, I?—”
“Nope. You don’t apologize for the way he used to make you feel. None of it is your fault.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “I really love this dress. Thank you for organizing this afternoon for me. It…it was nothing like I’mused to. It’s helped me in more ways than getting me ready for tonight.”
Reaching up, I catch her tears with my thumbs before they can fall and ruin her makeup.
