“We need structure,” I advise, sipping the espresso an assistant magically placed in my hand. “But we need movement. He’s a trauma surgeon. He moves fast.”
“And no black,” I add. “Everyone wears black. He needs to stand out. He needs to annoy my mother.”
Giovanni’s eyes light up. “Annoy Catherine? Say no more.”
He vanishes into the back room.
He returns a moment later holding a jacket.
It is midnight blue. It is velvet. It is the colour of a bruise in moonlight, deep and rich and dangerous.
“Oh,” Luke breathes.
“Try it,” Giovanni commands.
Luke slips his arms into the sleeves.
It fits.
It doesn’t just fit; it transforms him. The velvet absorbs the light, making his shoulders look wider, his posture straighter. The deep blue makes his skin glow and his dark eyes look almost black. He looks like a prince who just killed the king and took the throne.
But he’s struggling with the cuffs.
“The buttons are stiff,” Luke mutters, fumbling.
“Let me,” I say.
I stand up. I set my coffee down.
I walk up to the podium. I step between Luke’slegs.
The air in the shop shifts. Giovanni, sensing the moment (or perhaps just fearing a repeat of the Max/Jax changing room incident), quietly retreats to the back to find fabric swatches.
“Hold still,” I whisper.
I take Luke’s wrist. My fingers brush the pulse point. It’s hammering.
I fasten the cuff link. Then I move to the other side.
“You have nice wrists,” I murmur, smoothing the velvet. “Strong.”
“They’re wrists, Preston,” Luke croaks. His voice is tight.
I reach up to his collar. I fix the lapel. I slide my hands down the front of the jacket, feeling the solid heat of him underneath the layers.
“You look…” I swallow, my throat dry. “You look devastating, Luke.”
Luke looks down at me. We are inches apart. I’m standing on the floor, he’s on the block, so for once, he is towering over me.
“Yeah?” he whispers.
“Yeah. My mother is going to hate it. It’s too bold. It’s too sexy. It’s perfect.”
I rest my hands on his waist, gripping the fabric.
“This jacket,” I say softly. “It tells people you aren't just staff. It tells them you own the room.”
“I don't own the room,” Luke says. “I rent a one-bedroom in Queens.”
