Page 98 of Third Strike Smitten

My heart flutters traitorously. “He did?”

“He did,” Sutton confirms, her voice gentle. “That man is head over heels for you, Isla. Whether you’re ready to admit it or not.”

My throat tightens with emotion. Killian paying for my dress feels scarily significant. It’s not just a gift; it’s a statement. A declaration he’s making without words.

“I can’t let him do that,” I say, even as my fingers continue to stroke the luxurious fabric. “We agreed⁠—”

“What? That you wouldn’t let him do nice things for you?” Tara interrupts, her hands on her hips. “That’s not in any arrangement I’ve ever heard of.”

“It’s complicated,” I mutter, turning back to the mirror.

What I don’t say is that accepting this feels like accepting more than just a dress. It feels like accepting a future I’m not sure I’m ready for. A future where I stay instead of run. Where I let myself be loved instead of keeping my distance.

Sutton steps closer, her reflection appearing beside mine in the mirror. “Nothing about what you two have is simple anymore, Isla. You know that.”

I turn, glancing over my shoulder. “Wait, how do you⁠—”

“I know everything.” She nods. “I know what you two have now is not how it started out. I know that feelings were not supposed to be part of the equation but sometimes the math doesn’t math correctly.” She smooths her hands down my arms from behind me and continues, “And I also know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Killian Haynes is in love with Isla Fallon.” She smiles. “And I’m pretty damn sure that Isla Fallon is also in love with Killian Haynes, and at some point…when you’re ready, the truth is going to come out.”

My body stiffens with a confusing mix of emotions. Excitement, fear, and something that feels dangerously close to hope.

“He’s really in love with me?” I wonder, unable to meet Sutton’s eyes in the mirror.

She squeezes my shoulders gently. “I’ve never seen him like this with anyone. The way he looks at you...it’s different from anything I’ve ever seen from him.”

“But what happens when the season ends? I’ll get a new flight assignment, and he’ll be here, and...”

“And you’ll figure it out,” Sutton says firmly. “That’s what people who love each other do. They figure it out.”

The word “love” hangs in the air between us, making my heart race. I’ve been so careful not to use that word, not even in my own head. But here it is, spoken aloud by someone else, and it feels terrifyingly real.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Just let him buy you the dress, Isla,” Sutton says, her voice softer now. “Let him do this for you. It’s not a commitment, it’s just...a dress.”

Tara steps up to where I’m standing and adds, “Sutton’s right. It’s just a dress. So, you’re going to let Killian buy you this stunner on a hanger so that you can feel like a million bucks at that gala. And then you’re going to let him peel it off of you when the night is over because let’s be honest,” she says, looking me up and down. “With a body like that, in a dress like this…” she points to the slit. “And a slit like that, it’s all Killian will be thinking about all night long.”

The three of us break into a fit of giggles and I concede. “Okay,” I concede. “Okay, I’ll let him buy the dress.”

Tara squeals and claps her hands together. “Yes! Now we need shoes and accessories!”

As I change back into my regular clothes, I can’t help but wonder what Killian will think when he sees me in this dress. Will his eyes light up the way they do when he’s about to pitch a perfect game? Will his hand find the small of my back the way it does when we’re walking together? Will he whisper something in my ear that makes me forget how terrified I am of loving him?

Because I do love him.

I’ve known it for weeks now, but I’ve been too scared to admit it, even to myself. Loving Killian means opening myself up to the possibility of losing him, and I’m not sure my heart can take a blow like that again.

21

KILLIAN

This bracelet is a mistake.

I stare at the small velvet box in my palm, my thumb tracing the edge of the lid. It’s not expensive, just a simple gold chain with a small baseball charm dangling from it. But the weight of it feels monumental, like I’m holding my own heart in my hand.

I’ve never given a woman jewelry before. Not because I couldn’t afford it, but because I’ve never wanted to. The women who’ve passed through my life have been temporary, forgettable. But Isla...Isla is different.

I snap the box shut and tuck it into my suit pocket just as I hear the bathroom door open.