The Dress
. . .
Ellie
These hives would be the death of me.
After Dr. Lovejoy dismissed us and said we were free until dinner, I holed up in the bathroom and slathered calamine lotion all over the troubling spots on the inner parts of my elbows and along my thighs. The temporary relief was a godsend.
I hadn’t meant to lie as much as I had at breakfast. The plan had been to stick close to the truth with three words that had actually happened last night, but then there’d been an inquisition about the crab, and Candace had to get all snooty.
And I’d panicked.
I didn’t have the best track record for making good decisions while panicking, so it’d only gone downhill from there. But, really, Cade could’ve been more grateful—I’d totally done him a favor.
When I worked up the courage to return to the deck, Harrison had pulled Cade away to the gym for some brotherly bonding. The others were drinking on the main deck, but ten minutes into me joining them, Candace’s cold shoulder made me feel less than welcome.
So, I used the day to reconnect with Whiskey and earn his forgiveness. We returned the items he’d pilfered—which he was not happy about—then hung out on the deck together. I crocheted a new bow tie for him while he sunbathed and played with my yarn.
It only took eleven treats and a promise to let him visit Mac before Whiskey willingly climbed into my lap again.
I gave him lots of quality cuddles.
The evening presented my and Cade’s newest hurdle: a fancy date night prepared by Dr. Lovejoy herself.
It was a black-tie event to celebrate the halfway point of our couples retreat, so I raided the wardrobe Nate had put together and found more than one dress that looked red-carpet ready.
I wasn’t sure what Nate thought we’d be doing this week that I’d need five evening gowns.
But he must’ve known what he was doing, because none of the outfits clashed with my hair.
My make-believe boo had already gotten dressed while I made use of the jacuzzi, and he was MIA when I found the dress.
“Oh wow. It’s gorgeous,” I murmured, trailing my hand down the floor-length golden masterpiece. I couldn’t get it off its hanger fast enough, and Whiskey watched on while I stripped down before stepping into the dress.
A mix of satin and lace, the fabric slid over me like a second skin. The dress brushed the floor, with lace hugging my bust, a slit that reached dangerously high on my thigh, and tiny straps that made my collarbones feel like a million bucks.
It wasn’t something I’d normally wear—not by a long shot. And not just because it probably cost more than my entire income for the year, but because it looked like it’d been created for a movie star. Not little ol’ Ellie Darling.
I ran my hands over the buttery smooth satin at my hips, unable to stop worshiping it.
My brain decided to imagine Cade running his hands over it, too, but I quickly shut down that train of thought.
I really needed to shake off this weird crush forming for my fake fiancé.
Matching strappy heels waited for me in the closet, and I officially felt like a princess ready to attend a ball.
Instead of wearing my hair in its usual French braid, I let it down except for one section in a slim gold barrette that had a cute little cat paw charm hanging from it.
It was a cheap find from a clearance bin, but I liked the comfort of wearing at least one thing from home.
The finishing touch was my fake-engagement ring, and I slid on the cool band, admiring all the sparkles in the diamond.
Of course it complemented the dress perfectly.
When there was nothing left to primp, I took a deep breath—as deep as the dress would allow—and did a spin for Whiskey. “How do I look?”
He blinked at me from his velvet throne on the bed, but the little red die with horny stick figures peeking out from under his pillow stole my attention.
Dr. Lovejoy’s sex die!
My gaze snapped to my nightstand, lips parting. How’d he get it out of the closed drawer?
“Whiskey, no!” I shuffled over and grabbed the die, frowning at him. “This is not a toy. Play with one of your many crochet pals, please. How about your new crab?”
Whiskey’s gaze followed the die in my fist, my cat showing zero interest in his one-clawed crab. So, I snuck into the closet—closing the door behind me so he couldn’t peek—and tucked the die into a sock before putting it in the highest drawer I could find.
When I reemerged, Whiskey gave me a long, unblinking stare, then pointedly turned his head away.
I could swear he was pouting.
“Don’t give me that look,” I warned, scooping him up under his front legs and bringing his big blue eyes level with mine. “I just think you should be more of a benevolent lord, not a greedy one.”
When he only hung limply and frowned back at me, I peppered his grumpy little face with kisses.
The door swung open midsmooch, and Cade strode inside in a sleek black designer tux.
He straightened one of his cuffs. “Harrison says they’re ready for us on the main deck. How long—”
His gaze landed on me, and he went completely still.
I also froze with my lips against Whiskey’s face—and the furry little menace wiggled against my hold—because Cade looked good in a tux impeccably tailored to fit his broad shoulders, with his hair styled back.
But I couldn’t even fully admire how handsome he was when his first reaction to my dress was to lose his ability to speak.
The last time I’d seen him this speechless was when I accidentally trespassed in his penthouse.
All sorts of womanly satisfaction infused my veins at the sheer appreciation in his gaze, and I set down Whiskey with a laugh. “I’m almost ready. Just need to turn on a panel show for this guy.”
I switched on the TV in the sitting area, already set to a British channel from last time. Perking up, Whiskey hopped onto the couch and spun in a circle four times before settling in to watch.
“Be a good boy tonight,” I reminded him softly, really hoping he listened. “And don’t wait up for us.”
His focus stayed on the screen.
I gave Whiskey one more kiss for the road. Cade still hadn’t said anything when I turned back to him, and I carefully teetered over on my heels to join him by the open door.
His gaze didn’t just watch me as I approached; it devoured, making goose bumps pop up along my bare skin.
“Did you bring this dress with you?” he finally asked, voice gruff. He made no attempt to hide his appreciation, and I had the strangest urge to purr.
“I wish, but Nate gets all the credit for this one.” Smiling, I strolled past him through the doorway and could practically feel his gaze drop to my butt. “What do you think?”
He hummed low in approval. “Remind me to give Nate a raise.”