Page 97 of Third Strike Smitten

Killian offered to go dress shopping with me but part of me really wants my dress to be a surprise for him. I don’t know why. It’s not like what I wear for the night needs to be anything super special but since he offered to be my date I guess I wanted there to be some element of surprise for him.

“I think I have the perfect one,” Sutton says, emerging from a rack with a dress draped over her arm. The fabric catches the light, shimmering with an iridescent quality.

“What color is that?” I ask, stepping closer.

Sutton holds it up. “It’s a light blue, tealish color. Similar to the Lagers team colors, don’t you think? It’s not quite blue, not quite green. I think it’ll make your hair pop.”

I run my fingers along the fabric, feeling its silky smoothness. “It’s beautiful.”

“Oh, my God, try it on,” Tara encourages, pushing me gently toward the dressing room. “I have a feeling about this one.”

I slip back behind the curtain, shimmying out of the pink disaster and carefully pulling the teal dress over my head. The fabric slides against my skin like water, cool and luxurious. Sutton pops in to tie up the corset back, and when I turn to look in the mirror, my breath catches in my throat.

The dress is stunning. The color is exactly right, deep enough to complement my skin tone but vibrant enough to make my red hair practically glow. The cut is a sophisticated mermaid shape, hugging my curves without being too revealing, with a beautiful sparkly lace applique on the front and a subtle slit that shows just enough leg. The neckline frames my collarbones perfectly.

“Holy shit,” Sutton exclaims. “Killian is going to come in his pants the moment he sees you in this.”

A laugh bursts out of me even as my face goes red. My heart flutters at the mention of his name, a Pavlovian response I’m beginning to hate myself for. “I’m not dressing for Killian,” I lie, taking in my reflection in the mirror.

Fuck, I look good in this dress.

“Sure, you’re not,” Sutton agrees, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

She passes me a wink just as Tara calls out, “Well? Don’t keep me in suspense!”

I step out, feeling like a fucking goddess and spinning slowly for Tara to see the whole dress. Her jaw drops and she can’t hide a smile to save her life.

“Holy fucking shit, look at you, Isla.”

“I know, right?” I do another slow turn, watching how the light catches the sparkly lace. “I’ve never worn anything this beautiful.”

“It’s perfect for you,” Tara says, circling me with an appraising eye. “Your hair practically catches fire in that color.”

“Killian won’t be able to take his eyes off you,” Sutton adds, tucking a strand behind my ear.

“No, kidding.” Tara nods. “That slit alone is going to drive him batshit crazy all night long. Seriously Isla, this is the one. You look like you walked straight off the red carpet.”

“You guys, it’s just a dress,” I remind them even as I’m gawking at myself in the mirror. I can’t remember a time when I felt more beautiful.

Well…except for that night with Killian in the shower.

“You’re beautiful, Isla. Like…really fucking pretty…”

“It’s not just a dress,” Sutton corrects me gently. “It’s your armor for the gala. Your confidence booster so you can give the best speech you’ve ever given and not feel uncomfortable in your own skin. And hey, if it happens to make a certain pitcher’s jaw drop, and cock swell, well...” she shrugs, leaving me to smile at myself in the mirror.

I turn to face Sutton, the dress swishing around my ankles. “You think I should get it?”

“Girlfriend, you’re not walking out of here without it,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “It’s perfect for you. For the gala. For everything.”

I glance at the price tag and wince. “It’s a bit more than I was planning to spend.”

Tara waves her hand dismissively. “Don’t even look at that. This is an investment in your confidence. You need to feel amazing when you give that speech.”

“Besides,” Sutton adds, pulling a credit card from her pocket. “You’re not paying a dime for this dress so shop your little heart out, Fallon.”

My brows furrow as I look at Sutton in shock. “Wait, what? No, no. You’re not buying my dress. I can’t let you⁠—”

“Oh, babe, it’s not me.” She smirks. “Killian told me he’ll never speak to me again if I let you walk out of here without letting him pay for the dress of your dreams.”