Page 16 of Accepting Love

“You won’t. Just be yourself. He’s enamored. I don’t think you can do anything wrong in front of him, Caro.”

“Have you met me? I’ll probably walk into a window and hit my head or trip and fall on my knees. What if I don’t know what fork to use or I drop my napkin or my palms get sweaty? You know how my palms get sweaty when I’m nervous.” I rub them both on my jeans.

Audrey steps all the way into the room, heads for the pile of clothes on my bed, rummages through the stack, and picks up a soft pink dress still on the hanger. “This one.”

“I’ve never even worn that. I don’t know why I bought it.”

“You bought it because it suits you, and you’ve never had anyone to wear it for. Now you do.” Audrey takes it off the hanger and hands it to me. “Wear one of your lace panty and bra sets. White or pink.”

I’m shaking. “You don’t really think the night is going to end with him seeing my panties, do you?”

She shrugs. “Never say never.”

“What kind of guardian would encourage her ward to put on sexy underwear for a first date?” I grumble.

“The kind who’s more like a mother and knows you inside and out. I’m not saying you should or shouldn’t show the man your lingerie. I’m just suggesting you be prepared just in case you make that kind of decision.”

She’s right. She’s the best kind of guardian in the world. She’s always been more than a mother to me. She loves me to pieces and takes better care of me than any mother on earth. I’m damn lucky to have had her in my life all these years.

I glance at the clock. “Yikes. It’s already four forty-five.” I quickly strip out of my jeans and T-shirt, letting them land wherever they may while Audrey heads for my drawers and returns with a matching panty and bra set in the same shade of pink as my dress.

I’m not modest in front of Audrey. She’s seen me naked millions of times. Quickly I remove the boring underwear I’m wearing and replace it with the lacy set. I don’t wear sexy lingerie often because why bother? But if ever there was a time I should, that day is today.

“How much makeup should I wear?” I ask as I pull the dress over my head and smooth it down my body. I’m slender. Petite. My breasts are modest. My waist is narrow.

Forgetting the makeup, I turn to face the full-length mirror on the back of my bathroom door. “Oh, God. I look twelve.”

Audrey chuckles. “You don’t look twelve, but honey, you’re Little. It’s undeniable. Why would you want to pretend to be someone you’re not? You’ve met a man who not only likes you for who you are but loves you this way.”

I roll my eyes. “Love? That’s a strong word for a first date.”

“Is it?” Audrey comes up behind me and fluffs my loose hair, staring at my reflection in the mirror. “I saw the way he looks at you. It’s not a passing thing. He’s serious. He’s had his eye on you for a long time. I think it’s fate.”

“This isn’t a fairy tale,” I tell her.

“Why not?” She steps into my bathroom. It’s a huge attached bathroom because this is the master bedroom. After all, I’m a grown adult. I bought this house. It’s mine. Not only did I fall in love with it for the room where I will make music, but it has a fully equipped apartment above the garage where Audrey now lives.

It was weird at first. I bought this home six months ago at her encouragement. Before that, I’d lived all but the first two years of my life in my grandfather’s estate. When he passed away three years ago, I stayed, but the place was huge and had always felt too staid for me.

Audrey lived there too. She had her own suite on the second floor. She was with my grandfather since before I was born, seeing to his every need—both professional and personal. She ran the house.

When my parents died and I moved into the house, Audrey never missed a beat. She raised me.

A year ago, she encouraged me to buy my own place. It still feels odd to have her living in a separate apartment above the garage. I wanted her to move into the main house. But she insisted that I needed to be more independent and make this house my home.

So here we are.

I follow Audrey into my bathroom. She’s holding up a gorgeous hairclip that sparkles with stones. Some are pink. “You don’t think it’s too much pink? Too babyish?” I glance down at my feet. “What shoes am I going to wear?” It’s not like I own sexy heels.

“The silver sandals.” She hands me the clip. “Fix your hair.”

“Makeup?” I yell over my shoulder as she pads toward my closet.

“Light. Be yourself, Caro. A little mascara. Lip gloss. You never wear makeup except when you’re performing.” She comes up behind me, holding the strappy sandals. “Kingston Slade has only seen you as a Little. That’s who he fell for. Why pretend to be someone else?”

“Okay.” I gather the front of my long hair on top of my head and put the clip in.

“Perfect.”

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