The Butterfly Dress is a two-piece gown with a colorful blast of swirling pastels and a shaggy tulle fabric overlay. The top is a corseted sweetheart neckline with dramatic off-the-shoulder straps that drape down to my elbows. The full A-line skirt makes a statement of rainbow-like colors. It’s giving “Grecian Goddess at Pride Week” vibes all the way…at least, that’s what Tatianna said. But she’s right.
This dress makes a statement. Max told Tatianna beforehand that the attire at the Rainbow Project Gala goes anywhere from sleek glamor to RuPaul’s Drag Race. This dress is like the perfect combination of both.
And when I open my tiny house door to Max Fletcher standing before me in a muted dusty-blue tuxedo with a black bow tie hanging around his white pressed shirt, I forget all about his reaction to my dress…because he doesn’t just have a tie hanging around his neck…
It’s a bow tie.
Swoon mode activated.
“Cassandra, you look—”
Max doesn’t get to finish his words as I grab the tails of his tie and pull him down to my lips. Our tongues instantly find each other like two old friends who haven’t been together in years, when in fact, this man kissed me in the garage this morning while Everly was inside. He walked into my workshop, pressed me up against the closed door, gripped my jaw and took what he wanted from me.
And I was happy to give it to him.
Max isn’t a sexual dominant by any means, more so, a born leader. The past couple of weeks together have revealed a confidence in him that wasn’t there when we first became intimate. When we were first banging it out with each other, it was wild and exploratory…sort of a fun guess and check as we discovered each other’s desires. And “kinks,” which I love that he uses that term generously now.
Now, it’s like he always knows what I need—even if it’s just a stolen kiss that lasts ten seconds. It’s everything.
And the cuddling…I’ve never felt more cherished than when I’m sleeping with Max. Perhaps it was because the only sleepovers I really had with men were when I was working at my corporate job, so I was too exhausted to really acknowledge the feel of a strong man’s arms around me, or the sensation of his heavy breaths in my hair, and the sounds he makes when he stretches and yawns. God…if I would have never experienced those moments with Max, I think I would live a life with an uncomfortable sensation of missing something I never had.
I break our kiss and Max says, “Beautiful.” He pulls in a large breath of air and adds, “Cassandra, you look beautiful.”
Simple.
Classic.
Just like Max.
I glance down at my hands still gripping his tie. “You know what these loose ties do to me.”
A sexy smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. “Exactly.”
The drive to Denver is charged with sexual tension that makes it feel stuffy in Max’s SUV when in fact, the A/C is on full blast. Last weekend, Max hit me out of nowhere with talk about our future. At the time, I felt cagey and had to force myself to stand there and reassure him. It wasn’t easy.
The truth is, I’m still learning who Max is. Yes, he has surprised me by not being as consumed by his work as I expected of a CEO at his level to be, but I don’t know what that means for him long term. I know he has some big merger coming up that I struggle to hear him talk about because it feels triggering to me. But will he be able to manage all that and still be the man beside me right now? I sure hope so. Because when I saw him in his tux tonight, it was impossible for me not to picture him as a groom. And the woman walking down the aisle toward him in that fantasy was one-hundred-percent me.
I know it’s crazy early to be picturing our future already, but I have been flexing my imagination all summer long with Everly and this was an involuntary daydream I fully enjoyed. Zaddy Max is marriage material for sure. I just hope he continues to prove that to me.
As we pull up to the valet and the grand hotel where the event is being hosted, Max hands his keys off to the attendant and laces his fingers through mine to lead me inside.
“Will any of your friends be here tonight?” I ask, looking up at Max as he leads me through the grand foyer of the hotel toward the event room.
“No, but my brothers come every year,” Max replies, head nodding to someone we pass.
“Your brothers?” I repeat with a smile. “Big, burly mountain men at this kind of event? I bet they are wildly popular.”
Max narrows his sexy eyes and pulls me in close, his hand wrapping around my waist. “You better not be calling my brothers attractive or I’m going to find a coat closet to remind you who is number one in the Fletcher family.”