I rip the curtain back and step into the store. Fox looks up from his phone, and his eyes go wide. Anyone would think he’s never seen a girl in a dress before.
“It’s so?—”
“Innocent,” Fox finishes with a shake of his head.
Lorraine claps her hands. “Are you saying yes to the dress?”
Someone has been watching too much reality TV. “To the virginal sacrifice dress?” I snark.
“No,” Fox mutters. “It’s not you.”
Lorraine scowls at the pair of us before ushering me back to the changing room and thrusting a pale blue version of the dress in my hands. When that doesn’t satisfy neither me norFox, she opts for a shorter sunshine number. Yellow doesn’t suit me.
I’m on dress six, a little black number that might be perfect for heading to a cocktail bar in the city, but won’t work for a date in Red Lake at the bar and grill. There is such a thing as trying too hard.
“One more,” she declares, ripping the black one off my body and replacing it with a dark green sheath dress that is so close to something I owned when I was with Gideon, it gives me goosebumps.
“Hmm, not exactly showing off the goods, but I guess you need to leave something to the imagination,” Lorraine declares, pushing me out to see Fox. He glances up from rubbing Duke’s belly and shakes his head.
“Why don’t you have a look around, see if anything catches your eye that I haven’t already pulled for you,” Lorraine declares as she leaves the room and heads out back, probably to message Helen about how difficult I am proving to be.
I wander around the edges of the store, running my hands along the many dresses and outfits. Fox rises and does the same. He pauses over a strappy silver number. I shake my head. “Too much for a date I don’t want to go well,” I mutter.
“True, but you should still get to feel pretty while you break Samuel’s poor golden heart.”
“Not helping.” My hand pauses on a blood-red dress. It would sit just above my knees, the V neck would show enough cleavage to feel feminine, and the simple button up A-line design would skim my curves without indicating that I am looking for anything more.
It’s perfect. Apart from…
“Yes, that’s the one,” Fox states over my shoulder. “Try it on.”
I swallow and shove it back on the rail. “It’s not my color.”
“Lies, Cleo, we agreed.” I slant a look at him before snatching a similar design in black. Like the pits of my soul, this seems more apt.
“Lorraine, I found a dress,” I shout, placing it on the counter before disappearing back inside the changing room to pull on my own clothing.
There’s some quiet conversation taking place and then a light tinkling laughter that is definitely not coming from Lorraine. I snap the curtain back, finding Fox holding the handles of the bag containing my dress, but his gaze is squarely lasered on the absolutely stunning woman in front of him. Legs up to her armpits, shiny bobbed icy-blonde hair, and an ass that people pay for. She glances over her shoulder at me. I hate her on principle. She grins her pearly whites at me. Sharks have looked less predatory.
“Oh my days, you must be Cleo. Samuel has told me all about you.”
“Yet I’m completely clueless who you are.”
Her hand rises to her chest, drawing attention to her breasts accentuated by a well-fitted white blouse. “Where are my manners? I’m Amalee Cage. We’re double dating tomorrow with the town’s hunks.”
I throw up a little in my mouth. Who says hunks? There’s a slight softening in Fox’s eyes that I don’t like. Wait, what? Who cares? Not me. But was it her room he was sitting in last night? Was it her who was in his lap kissing him? No… but then again, she won’t freak out over a little dry humping. Now I hate her for being a precious princess while I’m a broken bitch. If that is my competition, I concede defeat now.
“I just know we are going to be the best of friends,” she continues. Not fucking likely, she’s the type of girl I’ve alwaysavoided like the plague, through school and college. Fake princesses always rubbed me the wrong way. Be yourself, because if that’s not good enough for those people around you, then they aren’t worth your time. I knew those wise words even as a child, but it didn’t stop me from being snatched up by an evil man who set about destroying the very core of my being so he could remake me to his exacting specifications. Being perfect is exhausting. I won’t ever change myself to be what I think someone wants again. Which is why I’ll end up a weird cat lady who scares the crap out of kids on Halloween. That thought makes me smile.
Amalee spins to face Fox again before dropping a quick kiss on his cheek and leaving a smear of pink lip gloss. Ew. Did we not stop wearing that when we hit twelve? Just me? Okay then. She gives me a simpering wave and swishes out of the door with glitter and rainbows under her feet. I’m not being literal, but she walks around like she’s never known a bad thing in her life. I envy her.
I drag my lip between my teeth, feeling a little self conscious about the fact I wear zero makeup. I’m not the sort of woman a man like Fox would ever want. He’s got all those muscles and that dark and broody attitude that makes women swoon at his feet.Still, it wasn’t her room he was in,whispers an insidious voice in my mind. I swat it away as we exit the store and climb into the car.
“I want my truth,” he says as he puts the car into drive. I squeeze my eyes closed.Here it comes.“Why don’t you wear red?”
I suck in a breath and toy with the answer, worrying this is too close to revealing something about my past that could identify me. But that’s a lie, and we agreed no lies. I’m sick of it anyway. At some point, I have to trust someone; it’s exhaustingalways checking your responses. Fox isn’t here to hurt me, and in a month, I’ll be gone.
“Back before him, it was my favorite color. It’s the very color I was wearing when I met him on a fateful rainy evening.” I lean my head against the cool window. “Perhaps if I had been wearing something less attention seeking, I wouldn’t have attracted the devil.”
