Page 28 of The Wingman

“I don’t think I have the right shoes for this,” I call back to her.

“Put. The. Dress. On.”

This is stupid. I don’t know why I’m hesitating. I shove past the weird feelings, unzip the dress, and pull it on.

Oh.

Oh.

There’s no mirror in the dressing room, but when I get the hidden side zipper up, the dress feels amazing. The lining is smooth against my skin, and there’s a comforting weight to the fabric. It’s not too tight or too baggy, and it’s the perfect length. I’m petite, so dresses are normally too long on me, but this dress hits at what feels like the right mid-thigh length.

I pull the curtain back, and Georgia’s jaw drops. Then she crows in victory. When I’m standing in front of the mirror,myjaw drops.

She smiles at our reflections with smug pleasure. “The universe sent us here tonight so we could find youthat dress.”

It doesn’t look like I’m wearing my grandmother’s couch. It doesn’t look like a kindergarten art project gone wrong. The dress is flirty and whimsical, and very, very seventies, but in a fun way. “I thought the print would be too much.”

She throws her hands in the air, pleased as punch. “What did I say?”

“You have a gift.”

She bows. “Thank you, thank you. Honor me by actually wearing it and not just letting it sit in your closet.”

“Deal.” I grin, still admiring my appearance.

Excitement dances in my chest, and I stand an inch taller.Thisis the special magic Georgia was talking about—a new haircut, fun shoes that cheer you up, a new nail polish color. And even though I’ve never worn something so bright, it doesn’t feel like I’m forcing myself to change.

Maybe this is who I was the whole time, and I think I like her.

CHAPTER 13

HAYDEN

The front dooropens that evening while I’m making dinner, and Darcy carries in a handful of bags from her shopping trip with Georgia.

“Hi,” she calls, smiling and setting them in the closet.

“Hey.” I pull the roasted veggies out of the oven. “Just in time. Did you eat?”

“No, Georgia had to get to a clinic she volunteers at.” She comes to stand beside me, and when her arm brushes mine, I take a step toward the sink to put some space between us.

“Is there enough?” She rubs her arm absently where we touched. “You eat so much.”

I chuckle, dishing her out a plate. “I made extra for you.” I was hoping she’d be home in time. My chin tilts toward the island chairs. “Go sit.”

She gives me a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” I follow her and set a plate down in front of her before taking a seat on the stool beside her. “Looks like a successful shopping trip.”

“Georgia forced me to buy a bunch of stuff and we made a plan to go again in a few weeks.” She takes a bite and her eyes close as she chews. “Oh my god,” she mutters, and her sigh ofhappiness and satisfaction goes straight to my groin. “This is so good. Beets and goat cheese are a match made in heaven.”

I swallow, staring at her mouth. A weird, masculine sense of pride expands in my chest as she enjoys the dinner I made for her.

My gaze lifts to hers, and our eyes hold. I’m thinking about the other night, when she sifted her delicate fingers through my hair and touched my thigh. It felt so fucking good I could hardly stand it. Within seconds, I was painfully hard, and I almost pulled her into my lap right there so she could feel how well her flirting had worked. Instead, I made myself come in the shower, muffling my groan into my hand as I pictured that sweet little mouth wrapped around my cock, swallowing me down.

“Georgia is kind of intense, but I like her. I think we’re friends now.” She eats another bite of food, and I watch as the mouthful disappears, her lips sliding over the fork.

“Georgia’s great.” I yank my attention away from things I shouldn’t be thinking about. “She doesn’t take shit from any of the guys.” Especially Volkov, which irritates him to no end. “Are you going to show me what you bought?”

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