“Dance for me.”
She quirks a brow and steps back. “Dance for you?” she asks, her fingertip pressed against my chest. One eyebrow lifts, and I wonder if I’ll ever push her too hard.
“Without the dress,” I instruct.
But today is not that day.
She sashays inside, and I watch her slip one strap off her shoulder, and then the second, before shimmying out of the dress just as I lose sight of her.
She doesn’t know.
One day I’ll dare her to marry me.