Page 40 of The Love Wager

Walt finishes the extension and gets me the paperwork from the printer, eyeing me narrowly the entire time.

“One week, Brooks.”

I roll up the papers, pointing them at him as I hover in the door’s fissure. “I’ll see you then. With every penny.”

Foreboding flickers in my chest, reminding me you should never count your chickens before they hatch, but I recall Indie on her knees last night, my dick teasing the back of her throat before she swallowed my cum down and know that we have this firmly in the bag. So, I shove my worry to the back of my mind, press out of the bank, and head toward the bar.

As I prepare to cross the street back to the bar, I’m thrumming with excitement. My eyes are tugged toward a flicker of white on my right-hand side. Turning, I halt my walking and deadpan at what I’m looking at.

“What the fuc?—”

“Watch your mouth, young man,” an elderly woman tells me in passing.

“Sorry,” I mutter absently, moving closer to the dress shop’s window.

Pulling my hands up to my hips, my mind whirrs as my chest fills with a strange feeling. My hand lifts and rubs over the ache, and I stare as Indie turns and locks eyes with me through the window, her color growing pale. I look up and down her body in a tightly fitted wedding gown as she bites the inside of her cheek, her cheeks filling as she steps off a raised podium surrounded by mirrors. Unthinking, I pull the door open and storm inside, not that I have a plan or can remember how to speak English to say anything to her.

“What are you gaping at?” she asks, her hands angling at her hips.

The white gown looks like it was made to fit a princess. Fuck that, a queen, and she looks like one in it. Her breasts are teasing my eyes with the deep v-cut that dips between them. Tulle and lace are everywhere, and the waistline hugs her perfect curves in all the right ways.

“I’m… what are you doing?” I finally get out, my mouth feeling dry as hell.

“I’m trying on wedding dresses for Taylor.” She eyes me as if that’s obvious, when it’s anything but.

“Run that back.” I wave my hand in a circle as my brain gets caught all over again in the way her breasts look in that dress.

Fuck,that dress!

She smirks knowingly as if she knows exactly what’s going through my mind. How could she? I can’t even make heads or tails of my thoughts or the deep vibrating in my chest.

“I had to come to town because there was an incident I’d rather not rehash with Taylor’s dress. Because I’m the same size as her, I decided it would be best to know if the dress I chose would fit if I tried it on.”

I lick my lips, trying to coax my mouth to create any kind of lubrication at this point. I’m desperate.

“Alright, then. Well, I think you found the winner.”

She looks down at herself. “Clearly not.”

“Oh?”

The dress shop employee beside her snickers, covering it with her hand as she fakes a cough. “Sorry. I’ll leave you two to it. I put the others in the dressing room. I’ll wait for you there to help you in and out of them.”

Indie nods, dismissing the lady with a look.

“What’s wrong with this one?” I ask Indie.

She turns to the mirror, looking herself over wistfully. “I don’t think it would complement her very well.”

I step behind her, unable to help myself. The dress only helps show off Indie’s beautiful features, especially her fire-engine red hair and perfectly hazel eyes.

“You look beautiful,” I whisper, dropping my lips to hover near her ear as I keep my stare locked on hers in the mirror.

So many emotions move over her face that I can’t keep up with them, but I catch how she fights the urge to lean back, eventually losing the battle.

“Well, the dress isn’t for me.”

I bite my lower lip, keeping ignorant words from spilling from my lips. She and I are just a fling, just a deal struck after a drunken night in my bar. Fate brought us to one another when we needed it the most, but we were never meant to be more than we are—a fly-by-night wager. Not one steeped in love, but one steeped in necessity.

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