Page 58 of Our Long Days
“You don’t say,” I grumble, earning a slap across the back of my head from Jo. I glance at the other woman apologetically. “Sorry.”
She smiles politely. “It’s fine. We have some big and tall samples in the back. Let’s try them on before we order in another. We’ll make sure the second suit arrives next week, free of charge. It’s our error.”
When she disappears, I stare at Jo pleadingly. “Help me.”
It’s then Patrick strides out of his changing room, suit cut perfectly, and stops dead. “What the fuck are you wearing? I can see the outline of your dick.”
“Stop staring at it then, perv.”
We’re in the city, trying on our suits for the wedding. Graham came earlier, but he and Quinn were collecting the keys to their new home this afternoon, so he left an hour ago. Booth can’t get any time off work until the wedding, but thankfully, he and Pat are the same size. That leaves me.
Clothes shopping is never enjoyable, even less so when you’re six foot five and weigh over two-hundred and fifty pounds. I’m not self-conscious about my body by any means, but finding things that fit is near impossible.
Point proven when it takes both my friends to wrestle me out of the skin-tight suit. When I’m back in my jeans and Carhartt, we collapse onto the sofa in the waiting area.
Johanna smooths her hand over the lapels of Patrick’s beige jacket. “This color will go lovely with the girls’ dresses.” She turns to me. “That reminds me: you’re walking down the aisle with Flo. I know the maid of honor and best man usually walk down together, but Lottie begged to be paired with Harriet. I hope that’s okay?”
My throat constricts. I pat my neck, checking the suit hasn’t magically reappeared. Nope. Just the mention of Florence choking me.
“Fine.” My voice cracks, and I cough into my fist. “She’s fine.Fineto walk with me.”
Patrick fusses with the cuffs on his shirt, oblivious to my panic. Relief is short-lived, however, because over his shoulder, Johanna eyes me suspiciously. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I snap.
“You keep sayingfine.”
“Because I am!”
“You can’t shout at a pregnant woman!”
“Okay, children. Let’s tone it down,” Patrick chastises, finding the whole encounter amusing.
The room is silent. I’m the chilled out one. I don’t lose myshit or get worked up over things. If my friends need advice, I’m the one they turn to. Cool, calm, and collected. That’s me.
Currently, I’m sweating, agitated, and twitchy.
Two days have passed since we danced in the rain. There’s less awkwardness, but even the downpour couldn’t extinguish the flames I’d forced myself to dance in. On the one hand, she was continuing with her list. On the other, I was torturing myself by spending more time with her outside of working hours.
I’m still digesting that Florence has feelings for me—feelings that apparently didn’t appear after our hook up.
A smart man would keep his distance. Me being the opposite, I’m taking her camping this weekend to check items three and four off the list. An innocent trip between friends, one neither of us have disclosed to our friends and family.
“Speaking of Flo…” Patrick starts. “How’s it going?”
All logical responses flee the vicinity.She’s doing great, Pat. My schedule is organized, emails handled, and she’s really got dry humping her boss down to a fine art. I’m tempted to give her a raise.
“Dex?” he prompts when I hesitate.
I keep it simple. “She’s a godsend, really lightened the load with the new project.”
Surprise flickers on his face. “That’s good. I was worried she’d get bored and call it quits after a week. She’s never been one to stick anything out.”
Annoyance bubbles. “You know, she’s a lot more capable than you all give her credit for. Thanshegives herself credit for.”
He and Jo blink at my grated tone. I don’t react, having said too much already.
“Hey, it was a joke. I’m happy it’s working out.” He glances at his watch then stands. “I’m gonna get changed. You’re coming to Mom’s for dinner next week?”
