Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I pulled on my clothes and stomped out, heading for the door. JD’s hand caught mine just before I got there and he gently turned me around to look at him, looming over me and mercifully blocking me from the shop assistants. “What’s the matter?” he asked, and the caring in his voice almost tipped me over into tears.
“There’s nothing I can wear here.” I told him.
“You want to go somewhere else?” He sounded so patient, like he’d happily take me to thirty dress shops if that’s what it took.
“It’s not the dresses,” I told him. “It’s me.”
He stared at me. The hand that gripped mine squeezed and then pulled me a little closer. “No it’s not.” His words were like huge, heavy rocks, immovable. “If they ain’t got the right dress for you here, that’s their fault ‘cause there ain’t a damn thing wrong with the woman they’re putting it on.”
And just for a second, I did feel pretty and special.
“But I tried all the things they thought would look good on me,” I said helplessly.
“Forget them,” growled JD, and it sounded like he’d nearly used a different word. “Is there anything you like?”
I looked around. Then I looked up and saw the angel dress. I loved it because it was beautiful, but also because I could see how it was made: I loved it as a piece of engineering. But it was pink, and so elaborate…I could never pull something like that off.
JD followed my gaze. He nodded firmly, then turned to march off towards the assistants.
I put a hand on his arm. “Stop,” I said, uncertain. “Wait...”
But for once, he shook off my hand and marched on.
“Why?” I called after him helplessly.
He looked back over his shoulder. “Because you do get the fairy tale,” he growled. And then he was asking the assistants, politely but firmly, to get the dress down for me.
A few moments later, I was back in the fitting room, pulling it on. It was clever and there was something about the way it clung to me that I liked: it almost felt like part of me. But it was so big, with an almost floor-length skirt that fanned out like magic when I turned. And it was both tight and revealing, with a lace-up bodice and a criss-cross halter neck that showed more cleavage than I was used to. I’m thirty-seven. Do I just look ridiculous?
I took a deep breath…and opened the fitting room door.
JD was waiting right outside. His eyes widened in shock and then I saw that big, wide chest fill as he drew in a slow breath. I’d never seen him go so still before, like he was entranced.
My whole life, I’d never entranced anyone.
And then he just nodded. A big, hard, definite nod. And I melted. “I’ll take it, please,” I squeaked to the store assistant.
It was only when I was changing back into my suit that I realized that JD would need to be at the ball, too, and if we wanted him to fit in, he’d need a tux. Fortunately, the store knew of a place just down the block, and fifteen minutes later, JD was turning back and forth in front of a floor-length mirror, cocking one eyebrow at me: is this okay?
I nodded just as firmly as he had. God, he looked amazing, the classic lines of the jacket accentuating those powerful shoulders and the hard power of his waist, the snow-white shirt stretched tight over his broad pecs. He looked like a Texas billionaire from the oil boom, powerful and gorgeous but with a dash of old-fashioned honor.
I knew he was going to the ball to guard me. But just for a moment, it was like we were a couple, going together. And God, it felt good.
We got back to the penthouse just as Paige arrived home with Cody. Cody handed me a folded note from his school. I got plenty of them, usually praising his work. But this one looked different and when I unfolded it, I saw why. It was from the principal and— “You got in a fight?” I asked, horrified.
Cody was grinning, happier than I’d seen him in months. “You should have seen Taylor,” he told JD. “He doubled right up and nearly lost his lunch!”
I remembered the fist-bump that morning. “What did you do?” I asked JD.
“I just taught the boy how to fight,” he muttered, and looked down at his shoes.
I stared at both of them. “Go to your room,” I told Cody. Cody did as he was told, throwing an apologetic glance back at JD.
“Don’t be too hard on him,” said JD. “This is my fault.”
‘You taught him how to fight?” I demanded.
“This Taylor kid has hit him plenty of times. And wrecked his stuff. He had it coming. This way he’ll leave Cody alone.”