Page 36 of Love Letter Lost
“What do you think of this?” Ridge held up something peach that made me flinch. I couldn’t quite tell if it was an extra-long shirt or a super short dress. Either way, the fringe at the bottom was a no.
“Absolutely not.” I moved to another rack of clothes that looked semi-promising. “What do you think of this?” I held up a lacy peach top that I felt was tasteful.
“Does it come in all of the sizes?” By now, Ridge knew the drill.
I looked through our options. “It’s missing a few.” I sighed, putting the shirt back and pinching my nose between my fingers, trying to stave off the headache I could feel forming. I was going to need an IV of slushy Dr. Pepper when we finished.
“Maybe we could get rid of the bridesmaids whose sizes are missing.”
“Very funny. Do you want to tell them they’re out, or should I?” I could only imagine that phone call, though maybe the missing sizes could get me out of playing bridesmaid Saturday.
“If you could do it, that would be great,” Ridge said, a smile quirking his lips. “After all, thirteen bridesmaids seems excessive.”
I shook my head and turned to look for more peach options among the racks of clothes. The department store smelled faintly of floral perfume, the acrid aroma worsening my headache.
“Do all the dresses have to match?” I could hear the frustration in Ridge’s voice.
“What do you mean?” I turned to face him, my curiosity piqued.
“What if all of the girls wore peach, but they weren’t wearing the same outfit?” Ridge gestured at the shirt I’d just put down. “One girl could wear that, another could wear one of the tops from the other store. You could even have someone wear that peach scarf we passed earlier.”
“Livvy would not go for that.” If polka dots sent her into a panic, I could only imagine what mismatched outfits would do. But something Ridge said stuck in my mind. “What peach scarf?”
“It was back that way.” He thumbed over his shoulder, gesturing to the accessories.
I strode toward the shelves, cases, and racks filled with belts, purses, scarves, and jewelry. After a moment of scanning the racks, my gaze landed on a beautiful peach scarf. It was solid peach, made of soft fabric, and thin enough that I could imagine wearing it in the June heat without sweating to death.
“What are you thinking?” Ridge’s voice came from over my shoulder. I turned to find him right behind me, standing with his hands shoved into his pants pockets. My stomach flipped as I took in his tousled hair.
That shirt really did do amazing things for his eyes and arms and…He’s got a girlfriend.I reminded myself as I tore my gaze away from how Ridge’s eyes popped thanks to the blue polo he wore.
“I think this”—I held up the scarf between us in an effort to create distance and shook it slightly—“might just work.”
I snagged a black skirt and white blouse and headed towards the dressing room with the scarf still in my hands. I changed quickly, taking a moment to gauge my appearance in the three-way mirror. It was simple, but classy. I came out to model my ensemble for Ridge, striking a pose with hands on hips as I spoke.
“What do you think?”
Ridge gave a small wolf whistle.
“Be serious. I can’t take much more shopping. Also, I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth.”
Ridge schooled his features into a serious expression as he tapped a finger on his chin. “Well, in that case, it is my opinion as your shopping partner that this outfit looks awesome.”
I glanced down, smoothing the skirt with my hands. It had a high waist and flared out in a way that made me feel flirty. “You’re not just saying that because you’re sick of shopping and want to go home?”
Ridge laughed. “While I am sick of shopping, I really do think it looks good.”
“It’s easy and I’m assuming most of the girls already own a black skirt and white shirt, so it should be inexpensive, too.” I stood, pondering for a moment.
“Not to mention size isn’t a factor.”
“But the black skirt and white shirt wouldn’t be exactly the same,” I pointed out.
“True, but the scarf would be.”
I stood in thought a moment longer. “It might be enough to pull everything together. Now we just need Livvy’s approval…” I trailed off. “Dibs on not calling her.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. I’m here as driver and photographer only.”
