Page 9 of Desperate Actions

I shift my gaze to hers, grateful for the distraction. Clothes—safe territory.

“I don’t know,” I murmur, twisting a strand of my own hair between my fingers. “I have this red thing Mom got me,” I hedge.

Even as I say it, my cheeks heat.

Because I know exactly which dress I’m talking about.

A slinky, dangerous little number—thin straps, barely there fabric, the kind of dress that whispers sin with every move.

My dad would freak out if he saw me in it. He still thinks of me as his baby girl.

But I’ve been a grown ass woman for years. I can wear a sexy dress if I want to.

And for one reckless second, I wonder what Sammy will think if I wear it tonight.

Will his eyes linger?

Will his jaw go tight the way it does when he’s irritated?

Or will he not notice at all?

I shove the thought down, forcing a nonchalant shrug.

Jade gasps and claps her hands. “Ooooh! Red looks amazing on you! I’m so jealous. I can’t ever wear it with all this ginger I’ve got going on.”

She snorts, flicking her hair dramatically over her shoulder.

I laugh, shaking my head. “Oh, stop. You always look gorgeous.”

She preens, unashamed.

“I also have that black jumper I wore for New Year’s,” I add, in a bid to anchor myself back to reality. “You know, as my safety.”

“That’s pretty too. Cora’s wearing black, so you’d match.”

I nod, pretending to care, pretending my mind isn’t already made up.

Jade chatters on about her outfit choices, but my thoughts keep drifting—to him.

To what he’ll think when he sees me in red.

“You know,” Jade’s voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, her grin downright wicked. “Wearing that red might help you find that thing you’re looking for.”

My stomach plummets.

Because we’re in a freaking box—a goddamn elevator—and I know he can hear her.

I feel his attention shift before I even see it.

My worst fear is confirmed when I look up.

Sammy is watching us.

Head cocked slightly, eyes sharp and unreadable.

Curious, maybe? Amused?

Shit.

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