“Mr. Cook,” Jordyn says, following Stella’s line of vision and noticing me, where I stand spellbound in the middle of Womenswear. “We’re the only ones in this fitting room. Come here and give us a male perspective.”
A trio of older women walk by, glancing between me and Stella. Whispering to each other with knowing expressions. And I can’t help but tug the side of my shirt collar anxiously. I’m standing out like a sore thumb in women’s petites, aren’t I?
But it looks like Stella is hesitating to buy the dress, even though she clearly loves it, so I swallow my qualms with approaching a customer dressing room and stride my way through the racks until I’m stopped just outside.
Ah Jesus, she looks even more incredible up close.
“Help me out, Mr. Cook.” Jordyn sidles up to me, arms crossed. “Stella needs something to wear tonight to the Christmas party. Tell me this isn’t the perfect dress. I’m wearing red sequins, so on top of making her extra stunning, she should offset me very nicely.”
Stella’s eyes catch mine in the mirror, her lips twitching. Mine do the same.
A couple sharing an inside joke.
I’m thinking about the diamond ring case again. God help me.
Jordyn elbows me in the side, surprising a chuckle out of me. We’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with each other since intervening on Stella’s behalf on Monday. In fact, the morning after the showdown, damn near every Vivant employee said good morning to me on my way up to the tenth floor. On Wednesday, I was invited to happy hour, an invitation I would normally decline, not wanting to be the boss putting a damper on everyone’s good time. But Stella was going to be there, so of course, I went. We sat next to each other without holding hands or touching and that might have felt unnatural, but what didn’t feel unnatural? Just talking to folks. Stella encouraged me to tell a group of salespeople about Aunt Edna and they actually seemed to enjoy it. One of them even said he was excited to introduce me to his partner at the Christmas party. It seems I’m not as much of an outsider as before.
I’ve started working on putting less pressure on myself to make everyone happy at the cost of my own convictions. To appease my family so they’ll treat me like one of their own. And I feel more like myself since letting go of that constant pressure. I can be positive. I can be a cornball until the cows come home. But I draw the line at pretending to be happy when something is wrong. I’m allowed to do that. I’m not letting anyone down by being less than upbeat. And I’m not sure I ever would have given myself that permission until her.
Until Stella.
“Do you like the dress?” I ask Stella now, sliding my hands into my pants pockets so I don’t settle them on her hips instead.
She nods slowly, a smile spreading across her face. “I love it.”
Take it.
I’ll buy it for you in nine colors.
Knowing better, I swallow those words. Stella isn’t uncomfortable taking gifts from me, thank God. But my gut tells me when she needs to achieve something by herself—and this is one of those times. “It’s a great color on you,” I say, my voice about ten octaves below normal.
My eyes find hers in the mirror.
We’re not even going to make it to the bed later.
Her throat works with a swallow. “I’m going to put it on hold until my direct deposit hits.” She leans down to check her phone where it rests on the dressing room bench. “Shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Baby’s first paycheck,” Jordyn whoops. “It seems like such a hassle to hoof it back here before the party. Are you sure I can’t put it on my credit card now? You can pay me back later.”
“Positive,” Stella says, turning away from the mirror to face us, her tits so touchable in satin that my hands ball into fists in my pockets. “Thanks for the offer, but it’s really no hassle.”
On her way down from the platform, the toe of her boot gets caught in the hem of the dress and she loses her balance. Her arms flail a little, trying to reestablish her center of gravity, but it’s too late. She’s already pitching forward. I lunge, ripping my hands out of my pockets, just in time to catch her as she falls.
“Jesus,” I rasp, hauling her up against my chest. “That was a close one.”
“Note to self: stick to knee length,” she breathes, deflating, her cheek coming to a rest on my chest. “Nice save.”
I will my heart to calm back down to its normal rate, whatever the heck normal is for my heart these days, and without thinking, I skim my palm down her hair. Her bare back.
God, I just want to be back in bed drinking coffee with her.
“Had a feeling your ‘in a relationship’ status was more than just a rumor,” Jordyn says, bringing Stella’s head up so fast, it bumps into my chin. “I guess me and Seamus have some competition for top spot as Vivant’s reigning power couple.”
“You and Seamus?” Stella asks—not pulling away from me. In fact, she straightens my pocket square and I forget what year it is. “When did that become official?”
“Any man who would send his boss’s vehicle to the impound lot without setting down his broom deserves a shot.” On her way out of the dressing room, she squints back at us over her shoulder. “You didn’t hear that from me.”
“Hear what?” Stella and I say at the same time.
Alone now, my girlfriend turns her smile up at me, as if that’s going to help my heart slow down from a sprint. “Did Aunt Edna land yet?”
No way I’m taking my eyes off Stella to check the time. I estimate, instead. “She’s got another twenty minutes or so till the wheels touch down.”
“Are you still anxious about it?”
“She gets lost in Kroger’s.”
“Poor Aiden.” She exhales. Goes up on her toes to kiss my chin. “You just want to be everyone’s hero…” she murmurs, playing with the hair at the back of my neck. “…and you’ve got stubborn women coming out of your ears, don’t you?”
Christ. My cock is thickening faster than whisked gravy over a high heat. “I’m not complaining.” She’s got her body pressed to mine, she’s smiling—and I’ve got a great view of her ass in draped, emerald satin. Grievances are not on the agenda. And the sense that a new chapter has started between us is probably why I forget to be patient. “I’ll complain a lot less if you walk into the party with me tonight.”
The light in her eyes flickers.
Dread pitches in my stomach.
“I’ve just barely decided to go to the party, Aiden,” she laughs haltingly, her arms dropping away from their position around my neck. She paces away in silence. “Please, just…try and understand that I went from occupying a tiny corner of space to having this…this giant world spread out in front of me. I have to inch forward, okay? At my own pace.”
She’s right. I keep forgetting how new every single experience is to her. Even the act of trying on a dress or getting a paycheck is unfamiliar. And I’m downstairs looking at rings like an idiot. I wish there was a way to make Stella believe in herself the way I do, but that kind of faith can’t come from me. It’s a process. A process I’m rushing.