Page 18 of Rescuing Brinley

“Wrong. The gowns you make are perfect for your clients’ body shape, coloring…what you make for them is absolutely flattering. True, they have to sell themselves during the competition, but the gowns and outfits are a huge factor in how others see them.”

Her smile grew. “Wow. Um…thanks.”

“How’d you get into the biz?”

The grin faded from her face, and she stared out at the water again. Shadow hated that he’d brought up what was obviously not a great topic for her. But she didn’t hesitate to answer his question.

“My mom started entering Callista in pageants when she was just a baby. After my stepdad died, she didn’t have anyone to look after me, so I had to go with her. I spent my childhood and teenage years sitting in the back of auditoriums watching pageants, so I kind of learned what worked and what didn’t as far as outfits and gowns went. And when I wasn’t lugging around all her stuff, I spent a lot of time helping Callista with her clothes. I kind of had to learn how to sew somewhere along the way.”

“You taught yourself?”

Her blush deepened as she nodded.

“Smart and resourceful, I’m doubly impressed.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What’s your name?”

Shadow blinked, then chuckled. “I can’t believe I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m an idiot. Dash Carlson.” He held out his hand.

She smiled at him and shook it. The touch of her hand in his made tingles shoot up his arm. He’d never felt such a thing simply by touching someone before. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

“Brinley Deaton. It’s nice to meet you, Dash.”

“Just so you know, my teammates call me Shadow…so you aren’t confused about who they’re talking to if you hear them say it.”

“Oh! You have a nickname. Does everyone on your team have one too?”

Shadow hadn’t smiled this hard in a very long time. “Yes, we all have them.”

“What does yours mean?”

“I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you.”

Brinley looked startled for a moment, and Shadow could’ve kicked himself. He was trying to be funny, but obviously he’d overstepped.

He was about to apologize profusely when she giggled.

“Right. Let me guess, it’s because you become one with the shadows at night?”

Shadow couldn’t believe he was about to tell this woman—a woman he was beginning to really, really like—the actual reason behind the moniker he’d been given when he was still in basic training, but he didn’t believe for one second that she’d make fun of him or think badly of him because of it.

“I wish. No. It’s because when I was eighteen and in basic training, we were out in the woods being taught how to be stealthy, and in the middle of the lesson, a lesson on how to ‘become one with the shadows,’ a bee landed on my arm—and I’m man enough to admit that out of all the insects in the world, bees are the thing I’m terrified of the most.

“I kind of flailed my arm around and when it didn’t fly away, I panicked and tripped over a battle buddy standing behind me, then I crashed to the ground, knocking over a stack of ruck sacks that we’d all propped up against a tree, causing a chain reaction where they all fell over one by one. My drill sergeant rolled his eyes, hauled my ass up, and started calling me Shadow right then and there. Sarcastically, of course, since an enemy would have heard me coming five miles away. It stuck.”

Brinley laughed so hard, he thought she was going to fall off the bench. He couldn’t stop gaping at her. Loving the carefree sound and thrilled beyond anything he was ready to admit that he was the one who’d made her laugh like that.

When she finally had herself under control a little bit, she said, “That makes the nicknames kids gave me when I was little almost seem lame.”

Shadow sobered almost immediately. He didn’t like to think of this woman being teased. “You got made fun of?”

“All the freaking time,” she said with a shrug. “Little Orphan Annie, Freckle Face, Torch, Spaghetti Head, Cheeto…to give you just a few examples of some of the nicer ones.”

“Those are nice?”