Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
“That color looks absolutely lovely on you, dear.”
Wendy spread her hands along the pale pink fabric bride’s maid’s dress. Surprisingly, Serenity had chosen something reasonable. It wasn’t a stiff silk and it wasn’t so obviously a dress worn by a member of a bridal party. It was formal and yet in right conditions it’d be considered casual.
Wendy would never wear it to church, though.
The straps were too thin for her liking, but the length was good.
It had a square neckline and the layers of the fabric skirt draped around her knees unevenly.
It was longer in the back than the front and the bodice had been decorated with microscopic pearl-like beads.
It was the perfect dress for a date or a holiday party.
“Now, turn around so I can cinch in the waist a bit.” The seamstress had a pin between her lips and her words came out muffled as she attempted to keep the pin from falling.
Wendy did as she was told and came face to face with her reflection. The dress accentuated her form in ways she wasn’t expecting. She’d always considered herself pretty in an average kind of way. She’d never struggled with self-confidence when it came to her looks.
But this dress simply did something for her. It made her skin glow. It made her believe she was… more.
Her hands lingered at her waist and a smile pulled at her lips. What would Tripp think when he saw her in this dress? He’d been acting strange at that overnight campout. She’d been so thrown off by his candor that she’d found it hard to sleep.
Then the following morning, he kept his distance.
And she’d been disappointed.
Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment as she recalled just how disappointed she’d been and for no good reason, either. Tripp wasn’t hers and she didn’t want him.
Except that wasn’t entirely true, either.
Wendy’s brain chemistry had changed. Tripp had done something, said something, to make her want to get to know him just a little bit better. It was insane, really. She had no business having these feelings and—
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“Sorry, sweetie. Did I poke you?”
Wendy forced a smile, biting her lower lip. “Yeah, but it’s okay.”
The seamstress offered her an apologetic smile. “I’ll try to be more careful. After we get this waist done, I’ll need to adjust the neckline and the length. You’re going to be here for a little while yet.
“That’s fine,” Wendy assured her, eyes lifting to her reflection once more. Then movement in the far corner of the mirror caught her attention. The glass door opened, and several men entered.
Wendy sucked in a sharp breath, causing the seamstress to pause for a moment but with Wendy’s sharp shake of her head, she continued her work. Wendy refused to let on that her gasp had been the arrival of the one man she couldn’t get out of her head.
The men had crowded around their group, chatting with the women while the seamstress did her job. All of them, except Tripp whose eyes were locked on her—burning her.
She fidgeted with her hands, wringing her fingers as she forced herself to stare right back.
He didn’t scare her. Then again, maybe he wasn’t trying to.
The boyish grin on his face seemed to insist there was something else on his mind.
When he strode closer to her and took a seat nearest to where she stood, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled.
Tripp leaned back in his seat and placed his ankle on his knee. His arms were spread out across the back of the loveseat. He looked almost too comfortable. Heck, he was probably in his element. Had he been here before? Watching another woman get a dress adjusted?
And why did that thought fill her with such vile jealousy.
Wendy needed to escape. She needed to jump off this pedestal and hide away in the dressing room. So much for not letting this man affect her. Unfortunately, until the woman at her back was done doing her job, Wendy was stuck right where she was.
“Doesn’t Wendy look lovely, Tripp?”
Wendy stiffened at Serenity’s voice. She found her friend’s eyes through the mirror and her cheeks flushed a vibrant red—not entirely from embarrassment, either.
How dare Serenity draw the attention of not only Tripp, but the others in the room.
It was all too noticeable that the group had gone somewhat quiet at Serenity’s question.
Oh, she was going to pay for that.
Tripp tilted his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Here it was. Here was his chance put her in her place and embarrass her. He could tell Serenity that the color washed her out or that she looked like a piece of fruit.
She steeled herself for the worst of it but then her eyes popped open when he murmured, “Exquisite.”
There wasn’t even a hint of malice or sarcasm in his tone. Perhaps a sliver of teasing, but nothing so overt to make Serenity give him a dirty look.
Wendy glanced at him despite the terror meeting his eyes caused her.
Those dark eyes threatened to swallow her whole.
He leaned forward, his leg dropping to the floor and his forearms braced on his knees.
Then his eyes swept over her body, lingering a little too long on her legs before they lifted to her eyes again.
He rolled his lower lip between his teeth and made an appreciative sound.
“Legs for days in that dress. Can’t wait to see what they can do when the music starts playing. ”
If Wendy wasn’t standing on this pedestal in front of everyone, her instincts would have been to tell him he could keep on dreaming. She wasn’t about to dance with him or show off her legs to anyone.
Unfortunately, with all eyes on her, she couldn’t even muster a snort at his comment. He sounded so sure of himself, so confident—so honest.
Heat bloomed in her face, turning her cheeks a couple shades darker than the dress itself.
“Oh, she’s a real good dancer, too. It’s that southern pedigree.”
Wendy’s focus snapped back to Serenity. She couldn’t recall telling Serenity that she’d learned to dance from a young age. In fact, she could probably tell them all that Serenity was wrong if she really wanted to.
So why wasn’t she?
Lowering her gaze to her hands, Wendy continued to fidget with them.
She allowed herself one more peek in Tripp’s direction at a complete loss for words for one of the first times she could remember.
While she hated to be put on the spot like this, at least he wasn’t doing anything to hurt or embarrass her.
Serenity’s voice broke through the quiet of the room once again. “I think the two of you might actually hit it off if you gave each other the chance.”
Wendy stilled, waiting for Tripp’s response. She could pretend she wasn’t interested in what he had to say, but who was she kidding? She had eyes. Tripp was attractive. And perhaps there were some things she didn’t know about him—things Olivia hadn’t told her.
Tripp snorted. “Sorry to burst your match making bubble, but she’s not really my type.” His sharp gaze never left Wendy’s form. She could feel the heat of it even as she stiffened at his words. “Pretty packaging, but too much work.”
Her eyes flew wide. Honestly, she really shouldn’t be offended at his statement. It was a matter of opinion, after all. But there was something in the way he’d said it that just made her feel sick to her stomach.
Wendy wasn’t the only one put off by his statement.
Serenity gaped at him, her own cheeks tinged with pink.
Wendy refused to let Serenity come to her rescue.
She could hold her own especially when it came to Tripp.
She rolled her shoulders and stared hard at the man in the reflection for just a moment before she smiled sweetly at her friend.
“He’s right, sweetie pie. He’s already been trained like a Junebug on a string. ”
Tripp’s brows pulled together, confusing marring his handsome face.
“All set, Wendy. You can get changed.”
Relief washed over Wendy, and she hopped down from the pedestal.
Tripp was just as bad as she’d remembered.
Just because he wasn’t interested in her didn’t mean he had to be so rude about it.
She huffed and puffed all the way around the corner and down the hall toward the changing rooms. Fuming too much, she didn’t hear the footsteps at her back until it was too late.
A large hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her gently backward.
Wendy gasped as she was spun around and caged in by Tripp’s arms. His hands were pressed against the wall on either side of her head, his body so close that if she wasn’t glued to the wall at her back, she’d be pressed up against him.
Tripp’s scent was intoxicating. His presence was otherworldly. For a moment her mind escaped her, and she wondered what it would be like if Tripp was actually interested. Would he be a good boyfriend? Would he make her feel like she was the most important person in the world?
His eyes flashed as they searched hers. Then they dropped to her mouth briefly. Her breath caught in her throat. Lips parting, she forced herself to breathe.
Tripp’s voice was low, accusing. “What did that mean?” he demanded. “The Junebug thing.”
The scoff that burst from her chest was enough to pull her from the haze he’d put her under. “Look it up.” She attempted to push him back, but her feeble efforts were laughable.
“I want you to tell me.” He inched closer if that was possible. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her cheeks.
Wendy’s mouth went dry and her eyes locked with his. Without thinking, she lifted her hand to his cheek. The stubble beneath her palm only added to her desires and she rose on her toes to briefly brush her lips against his.
The kiss was electric. It hummed and tickled her senses. Part of her wanted to hate that he could affect her this way—pull her in like a moth to the flame. It wasn’t good or healthy, this attraction she had for him.
But she wanted it.
More than she could remember wanting anything.
Tripp had a way of lighting her insides on fire, of making her do and say things that she wouldn’t normally do or say.
Some might call it passion.
Some might call it crazy.
Tripp’s hand braced the back of her neck and he deepened their kiss. His lips crushed against hers, clawing at the barriers she’d erected when she’d first met him. For a breath-stealing moment Wendy allowed herself to give into him, allowed him to take from her.
But then memories flashed behind her eyes like a movie reel.
Memories of Olivia’s grief.
Memories of how he’d behaved when they’d gone camping.
Tripp was as shallow as they came. He’d chew her up and spit her out. He’d break her heart.
But not if she broke his first.
Wendy turned her head, ending the kiss. They were both breathing heavily, both fighting the daze that managed to cling to them in this moment.
“Wendy…” he breathed.
She closed her eyes for just a moment. That was all she needed.
Then she met his gaze with a saccharine smile and patted his cheek. “You’re right. Pretty packaging. Too much work.” She attempted to dart under his arm, but he moved just in time to prevent her.
“Come on, Sweetness, you don’t really believe that, do you? I’m very good at what I do. Your satisfaction would be my guarantee.”
Her eyes narrowed. She could yell at him to let her go.
She could garner the attention of everyone in the shop and make a scene.
But that wasn’t her style. She wasn’t about to let Tripp corner her like a caged animal.
She wagged a finger at him, gesturing to his whole body.
“That right there only proves everything I know about you, Tripp Gilley. You’ll always be a bridesmaid and never the bride. ”
This time Tripp laughed with surprise. “What?”
“You know,” Wendy shrugged. “You’re the kind of guy who always dates around. You never settle down. Doomed to flit from flower to flower, never finding true happiness.”
That statement seemed to shock him at least. His brows pulled together and he stepped back just enough to give her the ability to escape.
Wendy wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass her by.
If she stayed a second longer, he might force her to stick around for more of this particularly difficult conversation.
Wendy darted around him and into the closest dressing room, praying that Tripp wouldn’t be lingering when she emerged.