Page 502 of Dark Love

“Dahlia?”

“No time. I’ve got to go change.” There’s no way I can wear jeans and a shirt on a rolling ladder. I dash up the steps and straight into the closet. And for the first time, I’m not just happy my man is a bit nutty about spoiling me, but I’m thankful. There’s an entire rack of long dresses from sundresses to full-on ballgowns.

“Dahlia, what are you doing?”

Vex followed me. Sweet. But now isn’t the time to think about my romantic man. “Trying to decide what to wear.” Obviously.

“You’re wearing clothes.”

“Not the right clothing.” How do I choose out of several dozen amazing dresses?

“Dahlia, we’re just reading books on a couch.”

Just reading books. “Oh no we aren’t. How can you not understand what a momentous occasion this is?”

“It’s just a library.”

I turn to glare at him. “If you aren’t going to help me pick a dress, just hush.”

He chuckles but doesn’t move.

“Flowery sundress or ballgown?” Each of them has a good point and a bad. I hold them up to my body one at a time. The mirror doesn’t help as much as I wish it would.

“The sundress.”

It’s soft, sweet, and flowy. “But the gown has a long train that will billow out, and it’s elegant like your library.”

“Why don’t you wear both?”

Doesn’t he understand anything? “There’s only ever one first time, and I can’t get this wrong.”

He shakes his head. “First time at what?”

“Follow along. You have a rolling ladder, and I need a dress to wear on it.”

“Is this a woman thing I should learn about?”

The consternation on Vex’s face is endearing. “No. Well, sort of. But you don’t need to learn anything, you just need to take a picture when I ask you to later.”

“That I can do.” He relaxes against the door frame.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch me as I pick?”

“Yup.” He smirks.

How do I even react to that?

You’re in a relationship… sort of… mostly… One of these days you’ll get around to kissing him. I stick the gown back on the rack and then rustle through the drawers, pulling out matching undergarments and tucking them in my pockets. A pair of nude peep-toe pumps finish the outfit even though they’re going to be slipped off as soon as the pictures are taken.

As I walk past Vex to get dressed in the bathroom, he hooks an arm around my waist, stopping me.

His other hand slides up the curve of my cheek and into my hair.

This is it. He’s going to kiss me.

What do I do? Where do I put my hands?

They’re full of stuff. Should I drop the dress and shoes?

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