Page 39 of Chasing Amber

Amber sighs. “It met with a dresser when I was rushing around yesterday. It turns out a few hours in urgent care getting stitches slows a person down more than if they’d just taken their time in the first place.”

Jed chuckles. “I guess so. Good advice. I’ll mention that to my wife when she’s trying to do ten things at once.” He rounds the counter. “What can I help you find?”

I tune out most of their discussion as I follow Amber around the small art store. It’s family-owned with a strong emphasis oncustomer service, which is why the owner knows her name and everything about her art career.

I leave a few feet of space between us, always watching, always listening to the others nearby. I look casual with my jeans, loafers, and black T-shirt, but the black sports coat I’m wearing over my shirt hides the weapon strapped to my side.

When Amber has finished shopping, I grab her bags in one hand and lead her out to the SUV so I can stash them in the back seat before we head to the boutique. As I turn back around and shut the door, Amber’s breath catches, and she jerks her gaze to the left.

I jump in front of her, scanning the area. “What is it, baby?” I ask.

“I…I don’t know. Maybe nothing. I just had the weirdest sensation I was being watched. I’m probably being overly sensitive.”

I continue to look around for several more seconds, but I see nothing out of the ordinary. Finally, I take Amber’s arm and guide her a few doors down to the boutique. I’d rather she be inside than out in the open like this. Maybe she’s just jumpy, but I would never ignore someone’s gut feeling.

I breathe easier when we step inside.

Amber seems to shake off the odd feeling as she heads toward the counter to greet the owner of this shop, the same as she did in the last one. “Catherine.”

I stay near the door, still looking around, taking in every pedestrian through the front windows. There are no other customers in the shop right now, which eases my nerves a bit, but I don’t like that something spooked my girl.

I’m vaguely aware of Amber telling Catherine the same story about how she hit her chin as she told Jed. I need to remember that explanation so if anyone asks me, my story matches hers.

I turn back to find Amber following Catherine around the boutique. Catherine is holding a few dresses in one hand, chattering about Amber’s style and what she would look best in based on her body type.

Amber looks good in anything and nothing. It will never matter what she wears. Whether she’s in a ponytail at the grocery store or a slinky dress at a gallery exhibition. She always shines brightly.

She turns toward me. “I’m going to try these on.”

I nod, but I follow her.

The boutique has three fitting rooms in the back. There’s also an exit that leads to the alley behind the shop.

Catherine doesn’t comment as I look inside all three fitting rooms and then check that the back door is locked and no one is in the bathroom. She’s seen me go through all these steps before.

Amber is different today, though. Instead of rolling her eyes and making snarky comments, she’s biting her lower lip and shifting her weight back and forth.

I finally nod toward the first fitting room. “Go ahead.”

Catherine bustles into the small space and hangs up the dresses before backing out and letting Amber take her place. “Yell if you need anything.” She wiggles her fingers at Amber and returns to the front counter.

I can see both exits and the counter from where I stand directly next to Amber’s fitting room. Nothing can happen to her in here. And yet, her earlier apprehension has spread to me and is making me uneasy.

After a minute, Amber opens the fitting room door a few inches. “Uh, could you zip me up?”

This is new. I like it. I step closer, blocking the interior of the dressing room with my body, and slowly ease the zipper up my girl’s fucking sexy back. I now know for certain she isn’t wearing a bra or panties. I saw the swell of her butt cheeks.

As soon as she’s fully zipped into the shimmering silver material, she steps forward to look in the mirror.

I don’t know why I’m still standing here, but I can’t take my gaze off her. She’s stunning. Every inch of her. I’m going to swallow my tongue.

Amber turns to face me. “Do you like it?” she asks. She’s not taunting me. She’s asking a serious question, and she expects a serious answer, but she’s not going to get one.

“Baby…”

She lifts her gaze to mine. “What?” She spins back toward the three-way mirror. “Is it too tight?”

“No, baby,” I manage to utter, though it sounds more like a growl. I feel like a possessive wolf shifter from a romance novel. She’s mine. I don’t want anyone else to get near her or touch her. I don’t want anyone besides me to ever see her in this dress.

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