Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“Uh…”
“Just go with it,” Indie says from the fitting room across the hall. “You’ll get used to it.”
I take a deep breath and put on a red dress with sequins. It’s cut so low, my nipples practically show. I quickly open the dressing room door, lock eyes with Paul, and say, “No. Too much cleavage showing.”
He nods and waves for me to close the door. The next dress is black and off the shoulder, something I never would have chosen on my own. But it’s cut to perfection and feels like it fits well. Silently, I step out of the fitting room.
“Oh, hell yes,” Paul says, looking me over from head to toe. “That gown was made for you. You won’t need to try anything else on.”
I look at my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors set up at the end of the fitting room, complete with a pedestal to stand on.
“Get up there and get a good look,” Paul says, offering me a hand to hold on to as I step up.
I can’t help but stare at myself for a few seconds. I can’t even remember how long it’s been since I wore something other than scrubs, shorts and a T-shirt, or jeans and a T-shirt. Even with my hair in its simple, low ponytail, I look elegant.
When I turn, a slit in the dress reveals itself. My mouth drops open when I see it runs all the way up the side of my thigh. I meet Paul’s gaze in the mirror and see that while I’m shaking my head, he’s nodding.
“I don’t think I can wear this,” I say feebly.
“You absolutely can,” he assures me. “You are a straight man’s idea of heaven in that dress and I forbid you to wear anything else.”
“But it’s…”
“What? Sexy? Spectacular? You said you’re a single mom, and I say you deserve a night of looking and feeling like a queen.”
“Oh, that’s the one,” Indie says, stepping out of her fitting room in a mint green halter dress. “You look amazing in that dress, Kylie.”
“Even with the slit?” I turn to show her the high-thigh view of my leg, and she gasps.
“Especially with the slit. Damn, girl.”
“All you need is some sexy heels for your date to kiss when he drops to his knees to worship at your feet,” Paul assures me.
I smile and nod, knowing Pax will appreciate my effort to look nice for this event, but also knowing he’s not the type to come unglued over a dress. With his huge … feet, he likely has willing women in every city he visits. I have to see Thursday night for what it is—a chance to get dressed up and have a nice evening with friends.
And that’s something I haven’t had in a long time, so I plan to make the most of it.
Chapter Nine
Pax
With a final glance in the rearview mirror, I step out of my Suburban, which is parked in Kylie’s driveway. I hate dinner party events with team VIPs, but our attendance isn’t optional. And I’m feeling good about the alterations my tux needed between my last dinner, at the end of last season, and now. The tailor had to widen the shoulders of my jacket and take in the waist of my pants, all due to my off-season workout regimen.
I take the box filled with a dozen pale-pink roses from the passenger seat and walk to the front door. The roses are just another small thank you to Kylie for doing this. When I asked her to pretend to be my girlfriend, I didn’t consider the amount of time she’d have to invest. After a full day on her feet at work, she’s giving up an evening with Jasmine to come with me to this stuffy party.
After tonight, I need to reevaluate my options. I can’t impose on Kylie like this indefinitely. And if refusing to sleep with the owner’s daughter gets me traded, I’ll just have to roll with it. This setup isn’t fair to Kylie, and the guilt has been gnawing at me.
Before I raise my hand to knock on the door, it swings open and Kylie stands in the doorway smiling at me. My jaw drops as I take in her sexy, off-the-shoulder black dress and makeup, her lips red and eyelashes dark and full. Her hair is pulled back at her neck in an elegant style.
“Holy shit,” I blurt, my chill nowhere to be found. “You look incredible.”
Her cheeks flush light pink. “Thank you.”
“I mean, seriously, Kylie, you look…I don’t even know the word.”
I do, though. Fucking sexy. Hot as hell. I can’t say either of those things to her, though. I just keep gaping, passing her the box of roses and saying, “I brought you something.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, looking confused. “But thank you.”