Page 96 of One and Only

“Hang on,” I told her. “I’m going to set the phone down and grab it. Unless you want to watch me change,” I said.

As I set the phone down on the long dresser against the wall, propped so that she could see the area by the foot of the bed, she smiled. “Not particularly. I’m gonna go pee a second while you change.” Her face disappeared, then came back. “Unless you want to listen.”

“Not particularly,” I called out.

In the closet, I pushed a couple of hangers aside until I found the other dress. The lilac was a safer choice, no doubt about it. It was elegant and demure, with a high, halter neckline and a flowing skirt that brushed the floor.

My second option was not any of those things. The cut was classic—fitted along the bodice and through my hips, a straight, streamlined hem that fell just past my knees, and I’d bought it on a whim a couple of years earlier.

It was vivid red—with a square neckline that made my cleavage look absolutely incredible (if I did say so myself). On the left strap was a small diamond cutout, the only detail on an otherwise deceptively simple dress.

Carefully, I pulled it up over my hips and slid my arms through the straps. I was still attempting to pull the straps into place with one hand when I walked out of the closet, carefully laying the lilac dress over the edge of the bed. Adaline wasn’t back on the video call yet, so I stepped back to study my reflection in the mirror across the room.

I exhaled a relieved laugh when it still fit just as well as it had the day I bought it. I turned, smiling at what I saw.

The bedroom door opened just as I did.

We both froze. His eyes tracked down the entire length of my body, his mouth falling open as they did.

In the wake of his admission of how hard it was for him to have blurred lines, we’d danced around each other for days. I’d worked long hours, and so had he.

When we were both home, we kept a safe distance. He kept busy outside. I kept busy inside.

And at the end of the day, we went our separate ways.

But it seemed, as his eyes traced the simple square neckline, that the dance had come to an abrupt stop.

I slid my hands down the front of the red dress, an uncharacteristic flurry of nerves dancing through my belly.

“Just trying to figure out what to wear for the wedding,” I told him. I gestured to the other dress on the bed. “It’s this or the purple.”

Beckett didn’t say a thing. And he didn’t move his eyes away from me, not for a single second, to look at the other dress.

The silence in the room was sharp and heavy, so loaded down with the things he was thinking but not saying, and I couldfeelit.

It wasn’t uncomfortable.

And it wasn’t unpleasant.

What it did was set off an ache, something deep and throbbing and persistent.

I settled a hand over my stomach and gave him a tiny grin. “I’ve never had a place to wear it before.” I paused. “It might be too much for a wedding, though, so I know the purple might be a better—”

“The red,” he interjected, his voice gruff, his eyes searing. “Wear the red.”

I took an unthinking step closer, and his jaw flexed.

My sister’s voice came from the phone. “Should I hang up now?” she whispered. “I have my eyes covered, I swear.”

Beckett’s head swiveled to the phone, and he swiped a hand over his face. For just a moment, his gaze moved back to mine, held for a prolonged beat, and then he left the room.

I exhaled, my whole body slumping over. “Shit,” I muttered.

Adaline laughed. “I don’t know whether that was awesome or horrifying for me. Do you need to go?”

I gave her a dry look. “I think the moment is over, thank you.”

She grinned. “I think if you go track him down, you could get it back on trackprettyeasily, based on how that man was looking at you.” Adaline waved a hand in front of her face. “At least you know what dress you’re gonna wear.”

---