Page 7 of Trash the Dress

I’m unsure what to do next when I finally drop the brush and stare at the paint. Zander pulls his camera away from his face to see what I’m doing. I bend down and dip both hands in the paint. I hold them both out in front of me before pressing them to my chest—right where my heart is—and as I do, I fold in on myself, slowly lowering to the cloth on my knees while gripping my chest. Before I realize it’s happening, Zander is in front of me almost as if he expected this part…these tears.

“I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s ridiculous to cry over a man who has done what he’s done.” I sniffle and keep my head down, refusing to meet his gaze. But he has other plans.

He gently grabs my chin and tips it up to make me see him. “It’s not ridiculous to have feelings, Scarlett. It’s okay to admit that he broke your heart, and it’s okay to let yourself feel it,” hesays and then he wipes my tears with his thumbs. “Maybe you’ll be strong enough to keep it from hardening your heart as you heal from it, because you deserve a lifetime filled with love and happiness.”

I start to cry and actually let it out…to allow my tears to wipe the slate clean. He’s right, I need to feel this. I need to feel everything so I can let it go and move on. He pulls me close to him. He doesn’t have to comfort me, but he does. I fist his shirt in my hands as he rubs my bare back.

When I feel all cried out, I pull back and notice the yellow paint on his once white dress shirt. “Oh...I’m sorry. It looks like your shirt got caught in the crossfire.”

He drops his gaze to see the yellow paint and lets out a light chuckle. “I’m not worried about my shirt.” He stands and reaches for my hand to help me up too. Then he unbuttons it before shrugging out of the ruined shirt. He hands it to me, and I stare at it.

“Use it to wipe the rest of the paint off your hands,” he says. “I’m going to grab your cupcakes and wine for you.”

I notice a tattoo on his side as he turns. I can see a camera with words around it, but I can’t make them out. He returns a moment later with two bottles of water, and grabs my wine, and the cupcakes from where he placed them moments earlier.

“I’ll take a water with my cupcake for now.” I feel parched suddenly as I watch his muscles flex while he moves. He hands it to me after setting the wine bottle by the wall, and then opens the box of cupcakes and offers me one. I choose one of the vanilla and buttercream cakes and bring it to my lips.

“Thanks. These cupcakes melt in your mouth. The wedding cake would’ve been good too,” I tell him as I take a bite.

He laughs as he watches me eat it. “You’re really going to let me eat cupcakes alone on the night I found out I’d been cheatedon for months all because I wanted to wait to have sex until our wedding night?”

His face grows serious as little creases form between his brows. “He cheated because you wanted to wait?”

“Essentially. It’s not like we’d never had sex before, but in my foolish mind, I thought if we waited for a while before our wedding, it would make our honeymoon more special—almost like the first time again with all the anticipation. Turns out I was wrong. Men apparently need sex more than they need love it would seem…at least in Eric’s case,” I blurt out flatly.

Zander takes a cupcake out of the box and sets it on the floor beside the wine before returning to stand in front of me. “Not all men are like that, Scarlett. A man who truly loves you would honor and respect you. He would wait forever just to hold your hand or kiss your lips.”

He glances at my lips and reaches out to wipe the icing off that I’m obviously wearing. Heat rushes to my cheeks as his gaze stays there a few seconds longer than necessary. Some type of warning is going off in my head, but I don’t care.

“Kiss me,” I blurt out.

He doesn’t move his hand from my chin. “That’s not a good idea, Scarlett.”

I pluck the cupcake from his other hand and set it down by the wall on top of the box, then turn back to face him. “I guarantee kissing you isn’t a good idea, but I don’t want to feel rejected again. I want to feel beautiful and loved…and wanted.”

Zander stares at me intently, his eyes fixed on my mouth. “You’re not beautiful, you’re gorgeous. And any man who would be dumb enough to reject you is out of his mind. I consider myself to be a smart man.”

He reaches for me and slowly allows his hands to land on my hips before pulling me close. “This isn’t a good idea, Scarlett,” he adds again as he lowers his lips to mine, gently at first, butthen he deepens the kiss. And this kiss…it steals the very breath from my lungs as his tongue guides mine. He tastes as good as he smells. When we eventually come up for air, I see a hunger in his eyes for more. His pupils are huge, and his breathing is rapid.

“I should take you back to your car before this gets out of hand. I don’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability right now. Besides that, I have nothing to offer you. You deserve so much better than my heart could ever give you,” he says gruffly.

“You’re probably right. But I think since we both understand each other, there’s no harm in understanding one another a little more.”

He hesitates briefly and then kisses my lips again before trailing more kisses down my neck, and he immediately finds my sweet spot. Chills break out across my skin and heat shoots to my core. I run my fingers through his hair as he pulls an involuntary moan from my lips. It’s been so long since I was touched this way and I feel myself melting.

His fingers tug on my zipper and excitement fills my veins. He trails his tongue from my collarbone back up to my ear while holding my head to the side giving him perfect access to my neck. He finally whispers in my ear, “Tell me what you want, Scarlett.”

“Unzip my dress.”

He does and then he helps me shimmy it down my hips to let it pool at my feet. His hungry stare takes in my body. I’m not wearing a bra due to the dress’s design, and my underwear is barely there baby-blue lace. He swallows hard. “Wow, Scarlett. You’re perfect.”

“Show me what a real man would do with a woman like me,” I say in a voice I’m not sure I recognize.

“I’d love to, but I’m afraid you’ll regret this in the morning,” he says, barely holding on to his restraint.

“I’ll never regret being loved by you. Even if it’s just for one night.”

That seems to be the only answer he needs as he lifts me from my trashed dress and leaves it behind on the floor. He takes me back into the kitchen and sets me on the table. His fingers thread up the back of my neck and into my hair. That simple touch lulls me into the moment further. I’m a sucker for someone playing with my hair or a scalp massage.

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