“I hope not.” As we reached the shopping district, we passed a boutique. “Could we stop for a minute? When I packed, I wasn’t thinking of a funeral in a biker bar. I need something other than the dress I brought.”
Jason asked the driver to park and he found a spot a few shops down.
“I promise I won’t be long.”
“And you won’t be going alone. I don’t think a suit or dress pants will work for a biker bar.”
Probably not, but he would sure look sexy in it. He always did. Until this morning, the most dressed down I’d ever seen him was a T-shirt and sweats the day he left the hospital. His uniform seemed to be dark dress pants and long-sleeved button-downs. In the summer, he’d just roll them up.
“What else will you wear? I just assumed you were allergic to denim.” I grinned.
He chuckled. “No, I’m not. I just never had anywhere to wear them.”
Thomas got out of the car and motioned for Jason.
I nodded toward Thomas. “You know, I don’t think he has to do that all the time here. This isn’t Chicago.”
He glanced at his best friend and back to me. “No, but we are in a border town, and there are people I’ve done business with who may not feel as though they were dealt with fairly, especially when my father was in charge.”
“Oh. Right.”
“You ready to do a little shopping?”
“Yeah.”
Shopping for funeral clothes wasn’t how I’d imagined spending my afternoon, but nothing about the last few days had gone as expected. The only certainty I had was that little red-haired boy who’d stolen my heart in an instant.
Chapter Five
JASON
“What doessomeone wear to a funeral at a biker bar?” It was said low, like Cora was talking to herself.
“I think you wear what you want because it’s a funeral at a biker bar and there are no rules.”
She grinned. “Then you can wear your suit.”
“Sure. As long as you wear a ball gown.” That would be a sight to see. She was always dressed well, even when she was wearing her flight attendant attire at work: skirt, button-down, and a jacket. With her dark hair, all she needed was glasses and she could be Wonder Woman.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t even wear a ball gown to a regular funeral.”
We passed a boutique and I slowed. “Maybe you could find something here?”
Thomas trailed us. I’d known him long enough that I knew he was wearing a smirk. If we weren’t childhood friends, I’d even consider killing him for teasing me later.
She stopped, looked at the display in the window, and shook her head. “Nope. I can’t afford that place.”
“You don’t know that.”
She scoffed. “I do know that. Look at that dress. It screams four figures.”
I looked at the dress. It was possible, but they had to have other things. “Humor me. Let’s just go in and see. Plus, it’s the only store I’ve seen men’s clothing in so far.”
“Okay, but if I can’t afford it, then we get your clothes here and keep going until we find a place that I can shop. You’ve already done enough.”
I just smiled.
“I’ve seen that face.”
