Page 80 of Peaches & Pistols

My wardrobe’s been stocked with everything I could possibly want, and styles I’ve never dared try; and there’s one dress that’s been haunting me.

As a nanny and single mom in a small mountain town, I’ve had no reason to wear it. I have no idea where Greyson’s taking me on our date, and I might be overdressed, but the dress is immaculate, and I want to feel beautiful.

I lift the delicate ribbon straps from the velvet hanger and hold the work of art in front of my body by my index fingers. Copper satin ripples like water mirroring the sunset.

I’ve never dared wear such a bold color, but it makes my eyes glow and brings out the full spectrum of blondes in my hair—the soft gold, pale honey, and hints of champagne.

Such a stunning dress deserves equally sexy lingerie, but the satin is begging me to go bare. Sifting through the department store of items the girls foisted upon me, I find nude petal pasties and conceal my nipples.

My breasts are smaller and softer than before I breastfed Everly, but they’re still perky enough that I’m not ashamed to show them off. I’ve savored the way Greyson’s eyes take me in on the mornings I’ve worn less-than nanny-appropriate pajamas.

His large hands will undoubtedly cover my breasts completely—a sensation I’ve fantasized about more times than I care to admit.

My fingers carefully lower the zipper, and I step into the molten puddle of fabric.

Each ribbon strap rests on my shoulders and the simple square neckline sits low on my chest teasing a faint shadow of cleavage. The fabric fits my curves like a lover’s caress, draping over my hips and thighs, ending just below my knees.

Reaching behind me, my fingers search for the zipper pull dangling dangerously close to my butt. It rises an inch or two before sticking. I tug but it won’t budge up or down. Sweat prickles at the base of my neck as I attempt to calm down.

The best solution I can muster is to wait for Greyson to get home. After a few painfully long minutes, I hear the front door open.

“Mia?” Greyson’s deep voice projects through the apartment.

“Bedroom!” I squeak.

I stand facing the door, begging my heart not to beat straight out of my chest.

He’s wearing a crisp pair of dark Wranglers that hang flawlessly over his cowboy boots. Tucked behind his belt buckle is a white henley, the seams of which are being tested by Greyson’s bulging muscles. His forearms are exposed by those slutty sleeves he has rolled up to the elbow. Dark arm hair and veins momentarily distract me from the problem at hand.

His jaw literally drops, mouth hanging open like I’ve only read about in romance novels. Darkening eyes rove over every inch of my body, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

“Mia…you…I…think you broke my brain. You look like a goddamn dream, honey.”

Heat rises from my chest, up my neck as I blush beneath his heavy-lidded stare.

“Thank you.” I smile, suddenly shy.

“That dress should be illegal. I should cancel our reservations and keep you all to myself, because I’m liable to blind any man who dares to look at you tonight.”

“Well, you might have to cancel, because I can’t get it zipped.” I toss my hands up.

He can’t form words, instead twirling his finger for me to turn around.

Energy ricochets between us, more electric with each step closer he takes. His body is far too close, yet not close enough, as he gathers my hair over one shoulder—his calloused fingers sending chills down my spine.

“You smell like heaven.” His deep inhalation makes me lightheaded with desire.

The zipper tugs down before gliding up effortlessly, stopping below my shoulder blades. The metallic fabric now hugs my breasts and ribs, accentuating the dip in my waist.

He pulls away all too soon, stepping around to stand in front of me. Our chests heave, desire pulsing between us. The muscles in his jaw ripple beneath dense stubble.

“You’re perfect,” he rumbles.

Not that I look perfect, but that I am perfect.

“I love you,” is what comes out when I open my mouth to thank him.

“I love you, honey. So damn much.” His response never fails to wake the butterflies in my stomach. I’ve never felt truly loved by any man in my life before Greyson, and never for a second have I doubted his sincerity.