Page 51 of Stick Work

“Dark blue.”

“Perfect.”

I open her door for her and she slides in. Once I’m behind the wheel, I ask, “Where to?”

She scrunches her nose thoughtfully before suggesting, “The mall.”

“No.” I start the car and put it in reverse.

“Why not?”

I throw my arm over the seat and back onto the road. “You’re getting something stunning, Taylor. A one-of-a-kind dress.”

“But—”

“No buts. You’re doing me a favour and there’s no budget. Now tell me where I can find the best dresses in town.” She hesitates. “Tell me, or I’ll call Sahara and ask.”

“Fine. There’s actually a really cute new boutique down by the library. I saw it the other day, and there was this dress in the window that?—”

“Say no more.”

She grins and sits back in her seat but I feel her eyes on me. I also know she’s grinning without ever having to turn her way. By the time we reach downtown and find a parking spot, the late fall sun is low on the horizon, and the air feels cooler. I kill the ignition and circle the car to help Taylor over a snowbank.

“Maybe you were right about staying in California,” I tease.

She chuckles, her breath puffing out in the cold, but as we walk, her steps slow when we reach a small shop. Thinking it’s the boutique, I glance in the window, but instead of dresses, I see small children in tutus twirling clumsily across the room.

“You’re right, they are adorable,” I tell her and pull her close as I follow her gaze. She doesn’t respond, instead she keeps her gaze focused on the children, a quiet faraway look softening her face.

“Does this make you want to have kids?” I ask as I consider that dreamy look.

“No,” she blurts out so quickly it catches me off guard. She laughs, to play off the outburst. “That was abrupt, wasn’t it?” I nod. “I’m just not ready. Down the road, sure, but not right now.”

Okay, so I read that all wrong. But what is it about seeing all these kids in tutus? Why does it fill her gaze with something quiet and heavy?

15

Taylor

“How about this one?” I ask, stepping out of the dressing room. This is the fifth dress I’ve tried on, and while Elias has liked every single one, none have quite met his high expectations. As much as I want to find the perfect dress, I can’t deny how much I’m enjoying this little game—parading out, seeing his face light up, feeling his eyes on me like I’m the only thing that matters in the room.

His gaze drops to my hips as I twirl in the cobalt blue dress, the silky fabric hugging my curves. Heat backlights his eyes as he stands, closing the distance between us. He rubs the short sleeve between his fingers, like he’s testing to see how the soft material would feel against his skin.

“I think this is the one,” he murmurs, his voice a low sexy whisper as he glances over his shoulder.

I arch a brow, laughing softly. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” he asks, feigning innocence. “What kind of thoughts could I possibly be having right now?”

I lightly poke his chest. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe checking to see if the coast is clear so you can drag me into the dressing room, rip this off me, and?—”

His deep, rich laugh cuts me off before I can finish. “I wasn’t thinking that. But well, now that you’ve planted that idea into my very suggestible brain, I am.” He slips an arm around me and starts to steer me back toward the dressing room.

I squeal, pressing my palms into his chest, in mock protest. “Elias?”

“What? You’re the one who brought it up, sweet girl.” His grin is shameless and does the craziest things to me. “Don’t even try to tell me you weren’t hoping I’d run with it.”

“We can’t do that here,” I hiss, even as a laugh bubbles up in my throat.

---