Page 145 of A Little Broken

“It’s gorgeous,” she decides. “Kind of like one you already have, though, isn’t it?”

“This one’s a little shorter, and the top is cut differently,” I add, showcasing the neckline.

Tilting her head, she decides, “I say go for it. Besides, the color’s perfect.”

“Right?” My mouth splits into a grin. Yeah, Paxton’s gonna die when he sees me tonight.

“What do you think of this?” Rory holds up a creamy peach dress with spaghetti straps. Maverick informed her that Lia picked light peach, cream, and white as her wedding colors. I reach for Rory’s dress and rub the fabric between my fingertips. It’s like butter. Soft. Smooth. Breathable. Perfect.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmur.

“You think?”

“Yes. Jax won’t know what hit him,” I add with a wink.

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t care about Jax or his opinion of my outfit, so…”

“Come on,” I tease. “We both know there’s no harm in rubbing a guy’s nose in what they missed out on, even if the door was never really open in the first place.”

She lifts the dress higher into the air, examining it. “True, but?—”

“Sir, we don’t allow cameras in this facility,” a woman announces.

I turn to the front of the boutique, surprised to find a camera pointed directly at me. “What the hell?”

The familiar click-click of a photo being snapped makes my nose wrinkle.

Following my gaze, Rory sighs, then shifts to give the camera her back. “Seems you have an audience after all.”

I’d find it funny if he didn’t seem so forceful.

The woman’s voice cuts through another round of photo snapping clicks. “Sir, I insist?—”

“I’m a customer,” he argues.

“Then I’m sure you don’t mind leaving your camera at the front desk while you shop.” The young woman reaches for the camera, but the paparazzi jerks away from her, making the girl’s face flame with embarrassment. “Sir, this is my first day. Can you please?—”

My legs move closer like they have a mind of their own as I call out, “Hi, is there a problem?”

“Tatum,” Rory warns from behind me.

“It’s fine,” I tell her.

The flash of the camera blinds me, and I pull back, blinking in an attempt to regain my eyesight.

Damn, that thing’s bright.

“Sir,” the employee begs.

Still half blind, I step between them, refusing to let this poor woman fight my battle when the paparazzi reaches for my arm. My knee goes up on instinct, I swear, connecting with the man’s balls before he even has a chance to realize what’s happening. In a flash, he doubles over, cursing as Rory rushes toward me.

“I—we’ll be—uh—” With wide eyes, she looks up at me, her shoulders practically touching her eyes in a massive shrug of discomfort.

Well, this just got interesting.

Helpless, I stand beside her, unsure what to do because no matter how many scenarios I could’ve dreamed of finding myself in today, this is one I never saw coming. So, what now? I could always drag Rory out of here and pray I don’t get arrested for assault. Or I could stand my ground until the bastard decides I’m not one to mess with and leaves on his own. Hell, maybe if I’m lucky, the door will hit his ass on the way out. A girl can dream, can’t she? Yup. Now that I think about it, the latter option feels like the way to go.

“We’ll be taking these dresses,” I announce. “Please put them on this card.” I glare at the man on his knees. “It belongs to Paxton Six.”

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