“I promise I’m safe and happy to be here, despite his grim demeanor.” Vanessa glanced at him again, her gaze warming as she reached for his hand. “In fact, I’m probably safer and happier than I’ve ever been.” She pivoted to the woman. “But I do need clothes.”
The woman stared at their joined hands for a beat, then looked at Vanessa with a fresh smile. “Well, isn’t that the sweetest?” She extended her hand to Vanessa. “I’m Cheryl.”
Vanessa pumped her hand enthusiastically. “Cheryl, it’s nice to meet you. Have you ever seenPretty Woman?”
“Yes,” Cheryl said hesitantly.
“Remember that scene where Vivian enters the clothing boutique with Edward’s credit card and needs a whole new wardrobe?”
“I do…” Cheryl’s expression grew guarded.
He could only imagine what she must be thinking. But he also knew his girl, so he shoved his hands in his jean pockets and let her do her thing.
“Well, Cheryl, this is that scene. I need bottoms. I need tops. I need shoes, socks, and underwear that will actually cover my ass. I need it all. Can you help me?”
The clerk blinked a couple of times, then let out a laugh. “Of course I can.” She scanned Vanessa’s body. “I’m guessing you’re a size two in jeans and a small for shirts, and—” She glanced at Vanessa’s feet. “Size 9 for shoes. Am I right?”
Vanessa slowly angled her head to Jordan’s, her eyes wide, that pretty mouth popped open. “Oh, she’s good. You brought me to the right place.” She spun to face the woman in question, who was beaming from ear to ear, and looped her arm through hers. “Cheryl, where do you keep the pants?”
While the two attacked the clothing racks like they were on a reality TV show, Jordan found himself a chair by the single changeroom. It was a rich blue velvet chair that looked like it belonged in a castle, and he gingerly eased his bulk onto it. The last thing he needed was to crush the slim wooden legs under his weight. Once he decided it would hold, he settled in and watched Vanessa and Cheryl add more clothes to the pile growing in Cheryl’s arms.
How many pairs of jeans did one woman need? He decided it was best not to ask and chose a magazine from a side table to flip through while he waited.
“I’m going to try a few things on,” Vanessa said as she breezed past him. “We’re not in a rush, are we?”
She was hiding from a stalker who was still at large. The only rush he was in was to get that fucker. “No rush. Take your time.”
“Good,” she said through the door. “I hate buying jeans without trying them on, you know.”
He did not. “Mm-hmm.”
The door burst open, and Vanessa appeared with his t-shirt knotted to one side, sporting a pair of blue jeans. “Yeah?” She did a half spin, checking out her butt in the mirror. Her very pert butt.
Jordan swallowed. “Yes. Nice. Those are nice.”
“I don’t know.” She tugged the waist. “Not sure about the color. I like them a bit more washed out.”
The changeroom door closed again before he could say anything.
Which was how the next forty or so minutes went. She tried on everything from jeans to long-sleeved shirts to jackets, matching different sets to show him what the complete outfit would look like.
By the time she disappeared inside the changeroom to try on ‘one last thing,’ he was so turned on, he was ready to send Cheryl to lunch, flip the Closed sign on the door, and take Vanessa up against the wall.
“What do you think?” Her voice cut through the fantasy, and his breath caught. She stood before him with that glorious smile stretched across her face and gave a little twirl.
The dress was the color of a summer sky, and it lit her up, making her skin glow, and the gold in her eyes sparkle. Short sleeves brushed her shoulders, teasing the curve of her arms, and the neckline’s soft scoop showed off the arc of her delicious breasts. The fabric hugged her waist, then fell down her killer legs, flaring mid-calf.
He had one word for it, a word that didn’t belong in his life:dreamy. Like she’d fallen out of the sky and landed smack in the middle of his sorry existence like an angel sent to test him.
He couldn’t tear his gaze away. She was so enthralling he didn’t want to risk blinking in case he missed a single millisecond of his time with her.
Vanessa’s cheeks pinkened under his scrutiny.
“It’s beautiful,” he told her, his voice dropping off at the last syllable.
Her laugh was a balm to his tortured soul. “I know it’s not practical, but it was so pretty I couldn’t leave hanging on the rack.” She smoothed the dress down her thighs, and hisheart rate took off at a sprint. “Usually I go for red or black, but this was the only color in stock, and Cheryl promised me the blue would look good.”
“She was right.” His voice croaked, and he cleared his throat.
