Loved by You (6 page)

He exhaled loudly, running a hand through his hair. “I should be over it. It was over a decade ago.”

“They were your parents.” She started walking again, more slowly this time, obviously thinking. “And it sounds like you were close to your brothers.”

“They were the ones who taught me how to play poker.” He smiled, remembering how they used to let him stay up with them and play even though they were so much older in high school, and he was a lowly sixth grader. “They didn’t know it, but they saved my life by teaching me to play. My parents had just enough life insurance to pay off their debts, and even selling the house wasn’t enough to pay for four years at Harvard. I paid my way through school by playing. It’s how I got the boat.”

“So you set sail.” She nodded. “And you got a friend.”

“He’s some pig.” Chance squeezed her hand when she chuckled. Something lightened in his chest at the sound, and he felt a wave of appreciation so strong he wanted to grab her up and squeeze her. But that’d only scare her, so instead he looked at her and said, “Thank you.”

Her wide brow furrowed. “For what?”

“For being great.” He tugged her toward him and ran his hand down her long hair. “You’re the best pretend girlfriend I’ve ever had.”

“I try.”

“You should be rewarded.”

She lit up. “Unlimited pretend kisses?”

“The unlimited real kisses are already yours.” He gave her a quick one, wishing they were somewhere more private. “I was thinking something different.”

“Like?”

His gaze caught on a sign that read Fine Lingerie. “There.”

KT’s brow wrinkled, but she reluctantly followed his lead. “Is this a reward for me or you?”

“Both.”

She pursed her lips. “That sounded like a promise.”

“It was,” he assured her as he pulled her into the store called Romantic Notions.

A bell peeled softly as they entered, and a dark-haired lady looked up from where she was hanging bras. She smiled invitingly at the two of them. “I was thinking of closing, but I realize I stayed open just for you two.”

KT’s face looked relieved. “If you’re closing—”

“Honey, he doesn’t look like he’s going to let you out of here so easily.” The woman winked. “Indulge him. It looks like it’ll be worth it in the end.”

“Trust her,” Chance said with a raised brow.

KT rolled her eyes, but there was a smile hovering at the edge of her lips.

“My name is Olivia,” the woman said. “Take a look around while I go change this guy. When you’re ready for help let me know.”

Chance and KT looked down at the floor where there was a happy squeal of a toddler. He had light hair but his mother’s dark eyes, and he laughed when his mother scooped him up and airplaned him over her head.

Rubbing his hands together, Chance looked around the store. “I feel like a kid in a candy store.”

KT rolled her eyes. “Men are so predictable.”

“I’m not predictable, babe.” He walked over to a white bra made of the sheerest lace he’d ever seen. Just the thought of seeing her in it, her nipples peeking darkly from the lace, got him going. “I like this.”

“Seriously?” She looked at it skeptically. “It’s kind of plain, isn’t it?”

“It’s what’s inside that counts, not the packaging.” He held it out. “What size are you?”

She shrugged, her cheeks flushing.

“You don’t know.” He stared, intrigued. “You don’t wear bras, do you?”

She glared at him. “You wear one and tell me they aren’t modern torture devices.”

He walked over to her, taking her in his arms and trailing his hands up her spine. Instead of an elastic band anywhere, he felt the supple muscles of her back. He felt a surge of need—need to feel her in front, need to lift her shirt up and see the naked evidence for himself. “The thought that you’re naked under this shirt is driving me crazy.”

“Everyone’s naked under their clothes.” She shrugged at the look he gave her. “Well, it’s true.”

Olivia came out from the back carrying the little boy, who squirmed until she let him down. She nodded at the bra in his hand. “That piece is beautiful on. You want to try it on?”

“She does,” Chance said before KT could say anything. “The underwear, too.”

Olivia winked at him and faced KT. “Don’t worry, honey. I specialize in making this painless. Go through the curtain, and I’ll be back in a second.”

KT trudged off like she was on her way to the electric chair.

Grinning, Olivia touched his arm. “I’ll do my part and then you do yours, and we’ll convert her to a lingerie girl yet.”

Chance smiled. “I’d like to see that.”

“I know you would.” She winked at him and went behind the curtain. “Don’t let Parker pull down the displays. I’ll be right back.”

He looked down at the boy, who’d somehow snuck up and sat looking up at him. Chance knelt down and pointed to the truck in the kid’s hand. “Truck?”

The kid lit up. “Vroom!” he said enthusiastically.

When KT and Olivia came out of the back, he was lying on the floor letting the boy drive the truck all over his body, occasionally lurching like he was an earthquake just to hear the boy laugh.

“This is interesting,” KT said with a lift of her brow.

“I was doing as I was told.” He ran a hand over the kid’s head and got up. “How was it?”

KT shrugged. “Okay.”

“It looked awesome on her,” Olivia assured him. “She’s getting it.”

“I’m getting it for her.” He pulled out his wallet at he met them at the counter.

“No.” KT put a hand on his to stall him. “I’ll buy it.”

He leaned in so his lips were against her ear, and he whispered, “I’m buying it. It’s my way of giving you a handicap when we play strip poker.”

“You think I need an advantage?”

“That, too.” He kissed her and then handed his card to Olivia.

“Oh boy,” Olivia said. “The game is on.”

Chapter Six

Bijou stood on a raised platform in the middle of her best friend’s loft, staring at the reflection of herself in a wedding dress in the three-way mirror in front of her. Filling the living space that doubled as a showroom, there were mannequins, all wearing wedding dresses designed by Rosalind, like headless bridal sentries.

It was surreal.

Bijou touched the lace cap sleeve of the dress Rosalind had made her try on. It was wispy, like gossamer petals. The lower half of the gown draped in longer layers of the same fairy material.

She started to fidget, but then stopped when she remembered Rosalind’s not-so-veiled threats about unraveling the loose stitches. Bijou felt—odd. She’d never had cause to try on a wedding dress before. She always expected to get married, just not until she got her career established. She’d never even imagined it.

But now, standing in some other woman’s dress, she couldn’t help picturing herself walking down the aisle. In a perfect world, her sister would sing a song Bijou had written specially for the day, and her dad would walk her to meet her beloved, who’d wait for her with an expression of awe and adoration.

For some reason, her imaginary groom looked just like Will Shaw, which was absolutely ridiculous, because he was
so
her type. There’s no way was she going to marry someone she was attracted to.

“Crazy,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“What’s crazy?” Rosalind asked, re-entering her loft’s large living area, which doubled as a showroom. She slipped a pincushion around her wrist and frowned as she fiddled with the neckline.

“Using me to fit this dress,” she improvised, not wanting to open that can of worms. Rosalind had known her too long and too well. They’d met each other at boarding school. Rosalind had been there on forbearance, because her father had lost most of his fortune and couldn’t afford the steep tuition. She and Bijou used to joke that they’d been made roommates because they were both pariahs. Bijou, the gauche daughter of American rock stars, and Rosalind, the impoverished daughter of an earl. It’d been instant kinship that had lasted years. “Isn’t it bad luck for me to wear the bride’s dress?”

Rosalind shook her head as she pinned the bodice. “That’s an old wives’ tale. You’re the same size as she is, only taller, and I’d much rather have you here than her. But if it makes you feel any better, this wedding is already doomed to fail. In which case, it’s important that the bride at least looks fabulous so I get the repeat business.”

Bijou grinned. “You’re heartless.”

“I’m a businesswoman at heart. A quarter turn, love.”

She glanced at her watch. “How much longer?”

“Do you have someplace to be?” her friend asked as she rearranged the drape of the train.

“Yes.” KT’s appointment with Will Shaw. Though KT didn’t know about it, so Bijou had to wrangle her.

Rosalind paused and looked up at her suspiciously. “Where?”

“None of your business.”

Rosalind quirked her eyebrow. “Maybe I’ll be designing a dress for you sooner than expected.”

“You can’t seriously think that, considering my past.”

“Darling, Brice was a wanker. You can’t judge all men by him.”

“I’m not,” she lied.

“Are you seriously going to try to lie to me?”

Bijou sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“As it always is with you, love.” Rosalind smiled at her impishly. “Following you and your family is better than watching
Downton Abbey
.”

“If only you’d seen the current episode, where Mom and KT have a showdown.”

“Really.” Her friend sat back on her heels. “Do tell.”

“It’d require several hours and at least one bottle of wine.”

“Tomorrow night, then.” She stood up. “Go ahead and get dressed. Be careful not to dislodge the pins.”

“As if I don’t know the routine.” She’d been Rosalind’s live mannequin since they were fourteen and Rosalind had decided that one day she was going to become a world famous wedding dress designer. She was on her way, too.

Bijou stepped off the platform carefully, admiring her reflection one more time. “Your dresses really are magic.”

“It is lovely, isn’t it? It’s a shame this marriage is doomed.”

Bijou shifted her attention to her friend. “Why are you so sure of that?”

“She’s getting married for the wedding and all it entails.” She reached out to reset the neckline. “It’s not about her relationship. I almost didn’t design the dress, but her mother looked so hopeful, I felt bad for her.”

“Maybe because of your own mom?” Bijou asked with a raised brow.

Rosalind smiled. “We’re all victims of our upbringing, but since when did you take up psychoanalysis?”

Since she’d met Will Shaw.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to answer because Rosalind pushed her toward the dressing room elegantly screened off to the side. “Go. I’ll make us tea.”

“You’re so British,” Bijou teased, stepping behind the screen.

“Perhaps because I was born and raised there.”

“No kidding, Lady Rosalind. Thanks, but I really have to go.” She changed quickly, but carefully. Knowing better than to drape the dress on the chair in the dressing area, she brought it out and handed it to Rosalind.

Her friend took it to her sewing station, carefully hanging it. “Are you sure you can’t stay? It’s been an age since we’ve chatted. I miss you. I saw you more when you were in LA.”

“I’ve been busy practicing for the concert.” She picked up her purse. “I need my performance to be flawless.”

“Flawless doesn’t exist, love,” Rosalind said.

“It has to.” She gave her friend a one-armed hug. “Let’s have lunch tomorrow.”

“The American Grilled Cheese Kitchen?”

“Of course.” Grinning, she waved over her shoulder as she let herself out of the loft. The second she was outside, she pulled out her phone and called KT. “We have an appointment with a therapist in half an hour.”

“For what? Because our parents are insane?”

“No, to get you ready for stage, just in case your plan doesn’t work.”

“It’s going to work.”

Bijou sighed, picturing the stubborn set to her sister’s lips. Their dad got the same look when he dug his heels in. “It can’t hurt to just try Will. He’s a good guy and nice to talk to.”

“Then you go talk to him. I have someplace to be.”

“Where?” she asked with disbelief.

“Your friend Gwen’s foundation.”

“You’re going?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” KT grumbled.

“I can’t help it.” But she was also pleased because this would be good for her sister. “What if I make an appointment for you with Will tomorrow?”

“I have a date.”

Bijou tripped. “
A date?
”

“You don’t have to sound like the world is ending,” her sister said indignantly. “I told you I was seeing someone.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you were serious.”

“I’m here. I have to go. Bye.”

“Wait—”

But KT had already hung up.

Bijou tapped the phone to her lips. She could call Will to tell him KT was a no-show, but it was so last minute. She should tell him in person.

KT would have said
bullshit
to that excuse.

Whatever—KT wasn’t here. Bijou headed to Will’s office, a feeling of anticipation fluttering in her belly, just like right before she stepped out on stage.

His office was downtown in an old building off Pine. She expected his office itself to be sparse and modern, but it was surprisingly colorful and warm. There was an Indian rug on the floor in the waiting room and a bright, inviting couch. The walls were lined with pictures of jazz musicians, all signed.

Interesting. Since there was no receptionist, Bijou sat down and waited, knowing instinctively that he’d come get her when he was ready.

On the hour, Will opened the door and smiled at her. “Bijou, it’s good to see you.”

Her heart leapt in her throat at the sight of him. He looked pretty much like he had the other day, only better. More masculine in the dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the open collar showing off his leather necklace.

In a former life she’d have been all over him, but in this one she knew better. It’d be really inconvenient to start something with another playboy right before getting her life back on track.