The air between us crackles with something electric. We’re standing so close that one small movement would close the gap entirely. Nitro’s gaze drops to my lips for just a second beforesnapping back up, and I watch him wrestle with whatever he’s feeling.
“We should…” I swallow hard. “We should keep looking.”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t move. “We should.”
Neither of us budges.
Then Beck’s voice cuts through the moment. “If you two are making out in there, please wait until I can document it for fake-dating evidence.”
Nitro steps back with a rueful laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Your brother has terrible timing.”
“The absolute worst,” I agree, trying to ignore the way my heart is hammering against my ribs.
He opens the door, holding it for me. “Come on, Small Town. There’s one more section we haven’t looked at yet.”
That’s when Simone appears, holding a dress draped over her arms as if it’s made of spun silk. “I’ve been saving this one,” she says with a knowing smile. “I think it might be exactly what we’re looking for.”
The dress is burgundy, deep, rich, and gorgeous. Off-the-shoulder with a sweetheart neckline, fitted bodice that flows into a skirt with just enough movement to be elegant without being impractical. It’s sophisticated, sexy, and somehow exactly what I didn’t know I was looking for.
“Oh,” Beck breathes. “Oh, that’s the one.”
“Try it on,” Nitro urges, and there’s something in his voice that makes me take the dress from Simone without protest.
Back in the fitting room, I slip into it, my hands shaking. The fabric slides over my curves like it was made for me, hugging in all the right places while leaving room to breathe. The color makes my red hair look like fire, and the neckline…
I stare at myself in the mirror and barely recognize the woman looking back.
She looks confident, beautiful, and powerful.
“Marley?” Beck calls. “You going to show us or what?”
I take a deep breath, smooth down the skirt, and step out of the fitting room.
The reaction is immediate.
Beck’s jaw literally drops. “Holy shit.”
But it’s Nitro’s reaction that steals my breath.
He’s been lounging in one of the chairs, completely relaxed, but the moment I appear, he goes utterly still. His eyes track over me slowly, starting at my face and traveling down, and I watch the muscle in his jaw tick. His hands grip the armrests of the chair as though he’s physically restraining himself.
“Nitro?” My voice comes out smaller than I intended.
He stands slowly, never taking his eyes off me, and crosses the space between us in three long strides. When he reaches me, he stops and stares, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths.
“Say something,” I whisper.
“You’re…” he trails off, shaking his head like he can’t find the words. “Marley, you look…”
“Is it too much?” I glance down at myself, second-guessing. “Maybe I should try something els—”
“Don’t.” The word comes out rough, almost harsh. “Don’t change a single thing.”
Beck’s camera is clicking away, but for once, I barely notice.
“You like it?” I ask.
Nitro’s hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb brushing along my cheekbone. “Like doesn’t even come close to what I’m feeling right now.”
