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“It’s the best-looking dress I’ve ever seen.” His eyes followed her hand while it slid down the satin skirt.
“It’s just... it’s every girl’s dream to try one on. I like all of them, but this one fits perfectly.”
Dean shoved his shaky hands in his pockets. Being Emilie’s fake fiancé was more real to him than any relationship he’d had, and he wanted to tell her, only he wasn’t sure how. That evening he needed to tell her everything. Seeing her in that dress in front of God and loved ones would be the best thing that could happen to him.
“It was fun.” Her voice distracted him from his thoughts. “I only wish Mom could’ve been here.”
“Me too.” He helped her down from the step and gave her hand a squeeze before she returned to the dressing room.
As he waited for Emilie to change, he leaned back against one of the couches and closed his eyes while images of her dancing in the white dress played across his eyelids.
Mere minutes passed before something brushed his lips. He barely opened his eyes and grinned up at his girl.
She grinned, only inches away from his face. “Time to go, Sleeping Manly.”
He tried to grab her, but she escaped his hands. “What kind of kiss was that? We need more practice.” He laughed.
“That was only to wake you up.” She giggled and led the way out of the store.
He took a few steadying breaths to calm his racing heart. Maybe tonight’s talk would be easier than he figured.
She turned. “Shouldn’t we go? We have a long drive.” She flitted toward his truck, her sundress swinging as she walked.
He shook his head. Head out of the clouds, Dean.
Before stepping into the cab, he grabbed the food in the back and took an extra minute to calm down. The next few hours would be spent with Emilie. In the eyes of everyone else, they were engaged, and he had every right to hold her. But he couldn’t, not yet. Every time he touched her, his desire to do it again increased. Until he knew how she felt, holding back was a better idea.
He made the firm decision to keep a safe distance until they talked. “Here’s some food so you don’t starve.” He passed the cooler over and then crawled into the cab.
Emilie’s eyes lit up. “You are my hero.” She unzipped the cooler, pulled out a soda, and downed half of it before he’d even started the truck.
He pulled onto the street and headed toward the coastal highway. “Trying on dresses took it all out of you, huh?”
“Mmm.” She dug into a bag of chips.
Dean grabbed a chicken leg, and the two of them ate in silence, listening to music and occasionally pointing out something new that’d popped up in the small towns that lined the coast.
Curiosity got the best of him, and he finally asked. “How was the dress fitting with Ava? I thought she would’ve stayed longer.”
Emilie huffed. “I thought she would, but she was too upset.”
She spent the rest of the drive reviewing every detail. None of it surprised Dean. Not the fact that Ava was snappy with the dressmaker, had asked Emilie to be her maid of honor, or was worried about money. He should’ve figured Ava would ditch Emilie before she even had a chance to try on one dress.
Instead of speaking his mind, he kept his thoughts to himself. He’d be the dutiful friend, nodding and agreeing at all the right times, all the while hating that Emilie made the decision to reunite with such a selfish person.
They pulled up to the docks and parked. A long line of people stretched along the boardwalk and led to a mini cruise ship.
Dean studied the boat with appreciation. Black on the bottom with a wide bow, making it seem like the stern of the boat never stopped. Already the lights were on, illuminating the dining cabin inside. Fancy bar stools lined the sides of the boat, and decorative pillars held up three floors. Dean’s boat would look like a child’s toy next to it.
“He must’ve rented the whole thing.” Emilie bit her nail and scanned the crowd.
He resisted the temptation to reach for her hand and mentally patted himself on the back when he kept his hands firmly on his seatbelt. “Before we go, I want to make sure we’re on the same page. You still want to keep up this image that we’re engaged? I kind of threw that at you, and we’re about to meet a lot of people.”
She looked out the window as Finn and Ava passed the truck, holding hands and making eyes at each other. “Yes, I’m still in.”
Worry squeezed his lungs. There was a good chance she still had feelings for Finn and no room in her heart for him. Nope, he wouldn’t let that happen. Without saying another word, he released his grip on the belt and climbed out of the truck. He took thirty seconds to grab the jackets in the back and walk around and open her door.
She glanced at the jackets in his arms. “It’s hot tonight. Why did you bring those?”
