Chapter 12
TWELVE
Ramsey
That night, when I get back to the house, the dining room table and floor are piled with shopping bags and packages that I have to climb over. The kitchen counter isn’t in much better shape. It’s covered in bakery boxes stacked two and three deep. I’m barely able to get the pizza out of the freezer to make my dinner. I eye one of the dainty pastel cake boxes skeptically.
I have no idea what Hazel got up to today, but apparently, it involved a massive spending spree and a sweet tooth that needed to be cured. I pull the frozen meal out of its box, tossing it in the air fryer after I’ve cleared enough room on the counter in front of it to do so, and sit at one of the barstools, scrolling my phone while I wait.
There’s already a group chat and several messages from Grant and Lev, inviting me to events at the casino and a snapshot his assistant has sent over of an apartment they could turn over for me. I sigh. It’s not technically a violation of my parole to be around them, but it’s walking a fine line when I’m trying to stay well clear of it.
When Hazel returns from her dinner at the inn, I point to the piles of bags she’s left that are gonna force me to eat dinner on the couch.
“What’s all this?”
She grins and walks over to her purse, pulling her wallet out and then a credit card that she slides across the counter. My name is emblazoned on the front. One she must have snatched from my wallet this morning, and I lift my brow.
“Just had a little shopping to do. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”
“I hope you bought some things I’ll enjoy,” I answer as I process the small fortune that’s been charged to my account.
“Well, I thought you could help me with cake tasting. I need to pick one for the wedding. Curtis is letting me decide, but I could use an opinion. I figured since I was already up in Denver, I’d pop in to get a few things for the honeymoon. You don’t mind, do you?” She walks over to one of the bags and extracts a garment from the tissue paper.
It’s a sheer lace teddy in pale champagne with delicate white and coral flowers strategically stitched over the surface. She adds a matching set of panties to her hand, ones that lace up the back, and I’m hard just thinking about her in them.
“I’m not sure if I should wear this one for the first night of the honeymoon or this one…” This time, she pulls out a sheer black lace crop top and a matching set of black lace panties, ones that are a barely-there scrap of fabric held together with black ribbon. “So I thought I’d model them and have you help me pick. I mean… who better to give advice, right? I can fix all the things that went wrong the first time .”
I crumple the pizza box in my hand and nearly bite my tongue off, trying to calm myself before I respond. It’s bait. It’s a blatant fucking attempt to try to get me riled, and I’m not taking it. I stand slowly, crossing the room while she watches me.
“He needs all this to get it up then?” I ask, tossing the box in the trash. “I’m probably not the best judge for you in that case. I was happy to fuck you in a torn, old T-shirt.”
“Yes well, you were a college boy. He’s a man. More sophisticated tastes and all that.” She smirks.
“Go put it on then.” I grab a potholder and pull the pizza out of the oven. “You can give me a show with dinner. I can try to imagine what the fuck having sophisticated taste feels like while I down this beer.”
She rolls her eyes but grabs a few of the bags. I can see the frustration in the sway of her hips that I’m not reacting the way she wants as she disappears to her room. I get to enjoy the satisfaction of that for all of about five minutes when she reappears in one of them, and I try not to choke on my last bite of pizza.
It’s the pale champagne one she showed me first. On her fair skin, it makes it look like it’s barely there. The only sign that she’s wearing anything at all is the boning in the top portion and the lace flowers that make their way up the garment and end where the delicate coral and white flowers make little frames around her breasts.
“Do you like it?” She turns around. The back is cut low, and the lace frames her ass cheeks in a way that’s going to live rent-free in my mind for weeks.
“It’s… nice,” I mumble before I sip my beer.
“The flowers kind of remind me of the ones out in that meadow off the river trail. You know the one I’m talking about?” She looks up at me and smiles. She knows I know. It was one of our favorite places. Two can play this game .
“Yeah.” I set my beer down and hold my hands up like a frame, closing one eye and moving them back and forth.
“What are you doing?” She frowns at me, one hand on her hip.
“Trying to decide how close it looks to the real thing. The flowers were a little bigger and covered more of your skin. Did you get some lipstick? Some of that stuff that stains them that pretty color… And your lips were puffier too from all the—”
“Ramsey!” She cuts me off, and her eyes dance with irritation.
“What?” I grin, taking another draw off the longneck bottle. “I thought you wanted my opinion.”
“A helpful opinion. On whether it fits well and whether it’s pretty enough.”
“It fits.” Perfectly, if we’re being honest. It highlights every feature of her body I love. “I already told you, you’re pretty with or without it.”
She rolls her eyes and stomps back to her room. “I’m getting a different one.”
A few moments later, she reappears in a tight-fitting bodysuit. It’s not bad, but it’s not as nice as the last one.
“It’s a bit boring compared to the last one. You’d better save that one for the grand finale. Assuming you get one.” I smirk to myself.
“You haven’t seen the back yet,” she scolds as she turns around and shows off the fact that the whole back is laced with ribbon, and there’s a heart-shaped cutout around her ass. She’s wearing a floss-thin G-string on underneath. “Does it look cute from the back?” She bends over, and I have to close my eyes.
“Fuuccck” I mutter to myself. Thankfully it’s quiet enough that she can’t hear.
“What?” She pops again, her brow furrowed like I’ve insulted her .
“Yeah. It’s cute. I don’t think you need the G-string though. It just makes for more work.” I lift one shoulder as she turns back to me.
“Some people like the work,” she sneers and then takes off again for her room without letting me defend my point.
I’m unsure if that’s the end of the show or if I’m getting more since she’s unhappy with my responses. But I still use the moment to readjust because even if I can keep my face from showing it, my dick’s eager to betray me.
It takes her long enough that I assume she might be done for the night, and I pull out my phone to scroll as I finish my beer. I almost don’t hear her when she comes back in, and when I look up, it takes effort not to make a sound. This might be the one that kills me.
She has on a sheer lace bra with a cupless corset under it that pushes her breasts so high they almost spill out. The pattern’s the reverse of the one she’d had on first: black with blue and black flowers where there had been white and coral. There’s a matching set of panties as well, but these ones have little ties on either side of her hips, ones that are begging for me to pull at the ribbon. She’s added a set of fuck-me heels this time, too; stilettos that look like they were made to kill with delicate little straps around the ankles.
“And?” She turns around.
“That’s the one.” I manage to sound like I’m not choking on my own tongue.
“Really? I thought you’d say the slutty-looking one with the heart on the butt.”
“Nah. They’re all good. But if he’s sophisticated and likes taking his time, this one’s the one.”
“And if he’s not? Then the heart one?” she asks.