Page 24 of Pin-up Girl

“Your daddy is still pretty.” Aubrey grinned. “And he looks way better in tights than I do.”

That would offend a lot of men, but I didn’t care. Dee wouldn’t be fazed by it either, since she’d grown up around ballet dancers. Tights were as normal as any other clothing, regardless of a person’s gender.

She was making a face now, though. “Gross. Daddies aren’t pretty.”

Aubrey laughed. “That’s all a matter of perspective.”

Brodie. Back in town. My first boyfriend. The man I lost my virginity to—though we’d both been teenagers at the time. The guy who would watch me jerk off in the locker room when no one else was around.

And he was engaged to the woman I’d always wanted but never dared cross that line with. Even though we were married now.

I had so many questions, and all of them would have to wait because I was spending the day with Dee. I wouldn’t shove her in her room and forget about her the way Regina did.

Aubrey looked between the two of us. “Sylvie is trying on some dresses this afternoon. Do you want to help, Dee?”

“Wedding dresses?” Dee had been so excited when she heard Aubrey’s little sister was going to get married here. That there was going to be a fairy tale wedding. “Can we, Daddy?”

If it meant Aubrey and I had a chance to talk, and I didn’t have to sacrifice Daddy-Daughter time, absolutely. Besides, Dee would love it. “Of course.”

“You have to finish your food and drink first, though,” Aubrey said. “So we don’t get chocolate on the dresses.”

“Okay.” Dee shoved half a muffin in her mouth at once.

I grabbed the rest of it away before she could choke. “At a normal speed.”

She looked frustrated, but slowed down with her eating. It was barely, but I gave her food back.

When we finished our muffins, Dee ran into the bathroom to wash the chocolate from her hands, and I gave Aubrey a questioning look. “Brodie.” I repeated flatly.

She shrugged. “I’ll tell you at the shop.”

I couldn’t wrap my brain around it.

When we got to her store, we headed into the back room, where Sylvie was already waiting. There was a rack with several dresses hanging from it, and a portable screen, to change behind.

Not all of the dresses were white. “Are you going non-traditional?” I asked. Not that I had any issue with it. She should wear what she wanted.

Sylvie huffed, as if I’d just asked the stupidest thing ever.

I raised my brows. “Not an answer.”

“I told her to pick out anything, and I’d make it work,” Aubrey said.

Aubrey was a talented seamstress. I’d seen her do alterations and adjustments and morph multiple pieces of clothing that should never be together, into a single, unified outfit. But there was no way she could make Sophie a wedding dress in less than three weeks, on top of the rest of her life.

I opened my mouth to say so, and Aubrey clapped. “Pick where you want to start, Sylvie, and Dee will help you with doing up the back.”

I expected Sylvie to protest or question Dee’s qualifications to work a zipper, but she reached for Dee’s hand instead. “Come on, hon.”

They grabbed a dress that was minimalist, with clean lines, and ducked behind the screen.

“What’s the deal?” I asked softly as they vanished. I didn’t want to say more, but Aubrey would know I was talking about the engagement.

“It’s not real.” She was quiet, too.

I let out a sigh as relief filled me.

“No whispering unless it’s about how amazing I’m going to look,” Sylvie shouted.

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