“Wow.” The remote drops out of my hand and crashes to the floor.
And I can’t stop my jaw from dropping at the same time.
Mia’s wearing the hell out of a little black dress that stops mid-thigh. Her legs are bare again like they were the first time we met, and her black heels are sexy as fuck. I raise my gaze to her face, and she smiles at me as I blatantly check her out.
She twirls around. “You like?”
God, yes. “You look gorgeous,” I tell her as I stand up and walk over to her.
She does that adorable thing she does when she’s suddenly unsure. One hand goes to her hair and the other to her chest. “Are you sure? Jamie Beth said it would work. I’ve always been terrible with fashion. Maybe because I lost my mom so young and I only had my dad, who’s absolutely hopeless with style sense. If I wore sweatpants and a hockey sweatshirt to this event, he’d probably think that was great. His only idea of stylish is a blue suit and tie, the same one he wears to funerals, weddings, and everything in between. He wore it to our wedding.”
Our wedding.
I can’t help but smile at those words.
Mia notices, and she smiles, too. “I kind of like having a special day together, even though it’s fake.”
“Me too.” I reach out and play with a loose tendril of her hair. “And for the record, you look sensational in that dress. It’s perfect for tonight.”
“Oh, thank God. I didn’t want to go back into my closet. I didn’t consider how the most exhaustive part of your events will be figuring out what to wear.”
“I can set you up with a clothing consultant if you’d like,” I say. “I love everything you wear, but if dressing for these occasions stresses you out…”
Mia hesitates.
“It’s on me,” I say immediately.
She smiles. “Thank you for the offer. I’m just not big into clothes, to be honest. Jamie Beth always tells me I need to woman up and get my ass to the mall. Confession—I loathe malls. And shopping.”
“I can understand that. It sounds like something you’d have done with your mom. You must miss her.”
She nods, a shadow of gloom crossing her face. “I do, but the funny thing is my mom hated shopping, too. Like me, she’d much rather have been outside. But that’s what made it bearable—we shopped together, and we made a game of it.”
“Like how?”
“She would bet me that I couldn’t find a dress before she could. You know, the right dress that fits me well. She played on my competitive side to fill my closet. At least fill it enough that I could go out in public.” She laughs.
“She sounds like she was a great mom.”
“She was.” She grabs her clutch off the counter. “You’re so sweet.”
“Darling, I am not sweet.” The flirtatiousness in my tone was not supposed to be there.
Mia flushes. “Well, I disagree. You are sweet.”
A sweet man wouldn’t want to do all the dirty things with Mia that are running through my mind right now.
I run my hand across my jaw.
Mia’s heels click across the wood floor as she heads for the coat closet. She’s already struggling into her long, black coat before I scramble to reach her.
“Let me help you.” I hold out the coat so she can slide her arms into it.
I wrap the coat around her and start buttoning the buttons from where I’m still standing behind her.
God, this was a fucking mistake. Mia lets out a gasp that she tries to suppress as my fingers make their way up her coat from one button to the next. By the time I reach the button between her breasts, I’m fighting a serious hard-on.
As I successfully close the button, I can’t keep myself from lightly dragging my hands across her breasts. Just once before I pat her arms briefly and step back.
