Page 128 of Behind the Net

I save the blue dress for last, but the second I slip it over my head, I know.

The fabric is soft against my skin, and something about the weight of the dress feels divine. In the mirror, I study the details, the bold slices of color, the delicate shape. Thisdress. The bodice is velvet, and when Miranda zips me up, it’s a perfect fit. The giant flowers make me feel pretty, special, and happy. This dress is an elevated version of the one I wore to the wrap party. Miranda leaves the dressing room, and my heart bursts with excitement as I think about walking into the gala in this dress with Jamie.

“Pippa?” Jamie’s low voice comes from outside on the couch. “Show me.”

I slip out, and the second he sees me, his gaze flashes with heat. I’m suddenly shy, but I can’t ignore the sparks skittering over my skin as he takes me in. Miranda is nowhere to be seen, giving us space.

“I like this one,” I say lightly.

He stares for a moment longer before closing his eyes, like he’s sobering himself. “Fuck,” he mutters, adjusting himself. “Pippa.” He says it like a curse.

I chuckle. “What?”

His gaze is back on me in the dress, and his jaw tenses as he stands up. My heart flutters as he walks over to me, gaze locked on mine, before he presses a soft, loving kiss to my lips.

I can’t get a full breath, and my head is spinning.

“You’re beautiful,” he says quietly.

I smile up at him. “You make me feel beautiful.”

He looks at me like there are a thousand kind, loving things he wants to say. But instead, he just smiles. “Good.” He glances pointedly down at my dress. “Do you want this dress?”

“How much does it cost?” I ask first.

He snorts and shakes his head with amusement.

“Tell me,” I insist.

“No.” His eyes are full of laughter, and a smile lifts on that mouth I used to think was cruel. “Do you want this dress?” he asks again.

The guitar already cost so much money, and now this? I’m torn.

“Pippa.” He dips his head to catch my eyes, and his fingers come to my chin, tilting my face up to his. “I don’t think you understand.” His eyes are steady, warm, kind, and serious. “Anything you want, songbird? It’s yours. Where you’re concerned, money is no object, because making you happy is worth it.”

I shouldn’t love this. I’m not a material person, and money isn’t important.

Jamie being generous and wanting to please me, though? It makes me melt.

“I’m buying you the dress, and you’re not going to argue. I’m going to buy you more things, and you won’t argue about those, either.” His eyes hold mine. “Okay?”

I nod wordlessly, trying not to smile at his satisfied, possessive expression. Bliss—I think that’s what this feeling is called.

“Good.” He steals a kiss before returning to the couch, and for the thousandth time, I admire how he moves with such power and grace. I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of that. He tilts his chin at the change room. “Now go change so I can take you for lunch.”

I smother a smile. Miranda pops back in to mark and pin alterations before helping me out of the dress. I’m tying my sneakers up when my phone pings with an email. It could be Ivy Matthews, so I check it, but when I see who sent the message, my stomach drops.

Can we talk? I texted you but I think you changed your number.

My hands shake, gripping the phone as I read his message over and over again.

“Pippa?” Jamie’s low voice travels through the curtain. “You okay?”

I realize that I’ve been in here for a while. How long have I been staring at his message, frozen? My throat knots as I swallow. I’m still shaking with anger.

“Can I come in?”

It’s like he can sense when I’m upset.

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