Page 119 of Don’t Say Mafia

He lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Am I?” he asked.

I pointed at him. “I will figure it out.”

He winked. “But will you?”

His eyes flicked toward the dressing room curtain. “She in there?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re just . . . waiting?”

“I’m exercising restraint.”

Cruz studied me for a long second, then leaned forward with exaggerated seriousness. “You want me to go in there and give feedback? I have a strong eye for silhouettes.”

“If you take one step toward that curtain,” I said evenly, “I will remove your kneecaps.”

He held up both hands. “Okay. Okay. Touchy.”

The curtain rustled, and before I could do something, like kill Cruz and hide his body, Eden stepped out in a red dress.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

The silk clung to her as though it had been poured on. It hugged her tits, and her waist, flaring just enough at the hips before the thigh-high slit revealed a long, smooth leg with every step. The back was open almost to the dimples above her ass, a single thin strap crossing between her shoulder blades like it was daring me to snap it. The neckline plunged low, framing cleavage that made my mouth go dry and my cock twitch painfully against my zipper.

She looked fucking gorgeous.

Cruz made a low, appreciative noise beside me. “Okay. Yeah. I get it now.”

I shot him a look that promised violence and stepped in front of him so I was blocking his view.

He snickered behind me like an asshole.

The saleswoman cleared her throat delicately. “It’s a very popular style. The silk is⁠—”

“Wrap it up,” I murmured. “All of it. Everything. And whatever else you think she’d look good in. Shoes. Lingerie. Everything.”

Her lips curved, I’m sure seeing dollar signs floating above my head. “Of course.”

Eden’s gaze flicked to Cruz, and she tilted her head toward him, clearly trying to place him.

I exhaled, already irritated as I stepped aside so they could see each other. “Eden,” I said, forcing myself to sound civil. “This is Cruz. My best friend. And my business partner.”

The words tasted reluctant.

Cruz straightened and gave her a small nod. “Hi,” he murmured.

I glanced at him, because what the fuck was that?

He wasn’t even looking at her when he said that, and all his usual charm was nowhere to be found. And I knew it wasn’t for my benefit.

Cruz’s gaze was tracking the saleswoman as she moved toward the counter with an armful of garments. His jaw tightened slightly, a faint crease appearing between his brows.

Eden noticed, too. Her gaze darted between us, then to the saleswoman disappearing behind a staff door.

I cleared my throat. “He’s harmless,” I told her. “Mostly.”

Cruz snorted, but it lacked his usual bite. His eyes stayed on the black door marked staff only a second longer before he dragged them back to Eden.