Chapter Sixteen
ZANDER WATCHED SHAUNA with amusement as she wandered through another clothing shop at the Hyannis mall, eyeing dressy outfits as if each one was more offensive than the last. She was a funny girl, so tough and stubborn, she’d snubbed the first two clothing stores as being too fancy.
She’d tried about a dozen times to give the ring back, but he’d stood his ground and had caught her admiring it at least as many times.
She didn’t need fancy clothes. She was cute as hell in an oversized green crop top that showed a tempting path of golden-brown skin just above the waist of her hip-hugging jeans.
But he was determined to find an outfit that she’d feel comfortable wearing.
One she’d admire herself in with the same sparkle in her eyes as when she looked at the ring.
And he was going to make sure she had fun finding it.
“Hey, Angel, when was the last time you bought something fancy?”
“I don’t do fancy. I wear a uniform at work, workout clothes, or jeans.”
He cocked a grin. “And sexy little outfits when you’re working the pole?”
She glowered at him.
He laughed. “I’ll make you a deal. You try on a few dresses and anything else you want, and even if you don’t find something you love, I’ll take you to dinner.”
“You’re resorting to bribery?” She sifted through a rack half-heartedly. “I could be into that. What’s on the menu?”
He couldn’t resist riling her up and waggled his brows, lowering his voice seductively. “Anything you want.”
She rolled her eyes. “Make it shrimp tacos and you’ve got a deal.”
“It’s your loss.”
She laughed and plucked a simple peach dress off the rack. “Is this what you had in mind?”
“That dress does not deserve you.” He took it from her and put it back on the rack. “You’re strong and snarky. You need something sexy and flirty that demands attention but doesn’t beg it.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
He sifted through the rack and pulled out a sexy little floral number. “Like this.”
“Flowers? Really?” She crossed her arms. “That’s…a lot.”
“So are you, Angel. You’re trying it on.”
She sighed. “They’d better be good tacos.” She reached for the hanger, but he pulled it away. “Zander, I need to check the size.”
He looked at the tag. “It’s an eight.”
“That won’t fit. I need a ten or twelve, depending on the cut.”
“I’ll never understand why women’s sizes aren’t universal between brands, like guys’ sizes are.” He exchanged the eight for a ten and a twelve. When she reached for them, he pulled them away.
“I thought you wanted me to try them on,” she said.
“I have a feeling it’ll be like pulling teeth getting you back into that dressing room, which is why we’re going to choose a few more first.”
“Damn it,” she grumbled. “That was the point.”
“See? I know my future wife well. You can’t trick me.” He pulled a little black dress off a rack and held it up. “Now, this is hot.”
“I’m not going to a nightclub.”
“Yeah, but you’ll look drop-dead gorgeous in it.”
“If you love dresses so much, why don’t you wear one?” she challenged.
“And show off my legs? Not after the way you ogled me when I stepped out of the shower.”
“I didn’t ogle you,” she snapped, but she was laughing.
“Well, you sure didn’t hightail it out of the bathroom.”
“Because I was late for work—”
“And I was naked,” he tossed out, egging her on.
“That wasn’t my fault! I had to brush my teeth.”
“And ogle me.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” Then, louder, he said, “I’ll make you a deal. If you try on the black dress, after dinner I’ll leave the bathroom door wide open from now on.”
She deadpanned.
He laughed. “I’m kidding. If you try it on, I’ll take you out for dessert at that great French bakery in Wellfleet. They have the best pastries stuffed with chocolate or cream, with powdered sugar on top.”
“No thanks. I’m not into fancy desserts.”
No fancy clothes. No fancy desserts. He was noticing a pattern.
He wasn’t into fancy things either, but he wanted to do nice things for her, to show her she was worth the extra effort.
He chose not to push it now, since she’d agreed to try on a few dresses, which was clearly a sore spot for her. “How about ice cream?”
That earned a genuine smile. “How many scoops?”
“However many you’d like.”
Their banter continued as they picked out slacks and tops and other outfits.
“If I hate everything I try on, I’m getting married in my workout clothes,” she said as they headed for the dressing room.
“I knew you were only in this for the tacos.”
She flashed a cheesy smile and disappeared behind a curtain.
Zander was too anxious to sit still. He’d never taken a woman shopping before, and he was having fun. “Need some help in there?”
“No,” she said with a laugh.
“Are you sure? I’m good at taking women’s clothes off.”
“You’re such a guy.”
“A wildly charming guy,” he tossed out. “It’s a curse.”
“I’ll stock up on sage,” she said from behind the curtain.
A minute later she opened the curtain, her eyes downcast as she took a tentative step forward, absolutely stunning in the little black dress, all legs and luscious curves.
Zander whistled long and low. “Damn, girl.”
She crossed and uncrossed her arms. “It’s too tight.”
“Tight is good, darlin’.” He held her gaze. “You’re on fire.”
The air vibrated with unspoken attraction, her eyes shimmering with heat. Fuck, that was sexy. But in the next breath, she planted a hand on her hip, trying to stifle a smile as she said, “I don’t care if I’m burning down the whole damn store. I’m not wearing this.”
“Why not? You look amazing.”
“I look like I’m trying to get attention, and that’s not me.”
“And yet, you’re smiling,” he pointed out, knowing she was right. She wasn’t an attention seeker, but damn. The world was missing out.
“Because it’s absurd that I even have to say it.” She turned on her heel and stalked back into the dressing area, pulling the curtain shut, speaking from behind it. “I’m not trying on any more dresses.”
“Naked works for me.”
He heard her laugh and pictured her dark eyes glittering, her dimples coming out to play. Man, he liked that. He liked her, and he was having way too much fun with a woman who was too easy to pretend to love.
He paced and was mulling over that dangerous thought when a text rolled in from Madigan.
Mads: I heard you were helping the girl who pulled you out of the wreck and drove her friend to rehab. If she needs an ear from someone who won’t try to get in her pants, I’m around.
A laughing emoji popped up.
He wasn’t surprised she’d heard about that.
His brothers and cousins had checked in with him last night to make sure everything had gone smoothly, but he hadn’t told them about the whole marriage thing yet.
He wanted to talk to his parents first, but Madigan’s comment irked him.
Maybe it shouldn’t, given his reputation, but it did.
Zander: Thanks. I’ll let her know.
Zander: And I’m not trying to get in her pants.
Madigan sent an eyeroll emoji.
As he pocketed his phone, the curtain opened again and Shauna stepped out, all lean shoulders and rounded hips in a cream halter-top jumpsuit with a plunging neckline, a cinched waist, and wide-legged slacks.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. But it wasn’t just her looks that held his rapt attention.
It was the dark-haired beauty beaming at him as she said, “What do you think?” and spun around with the flair and grace of the strong, confident woman he already knew her to be.
Holy hell. The jumpsuit was backless, and it fit snugly around her gorgeous ass, which he couldn’t help but notice was made for holding on to, and his hands itched to prove it. But as she finished her spin, his eyes were drawn to those fucking bruises on her arms, and his every muscle seized up.
He fought to keep his expression in check, not wanting to dim the light in her eyes. “You’re going to make the justice of the peace wish he were marrying you. Maybe you should wear sweats to the courthouse. Baggie ones.”
Her deepening dimples hit him square in the center of his chest as she said, “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re marrying me. I’d say that makes me ridiculously lucky.”
“I’M LEAVING THE tags on so you can return it after the wedding,” Shauna said as they left the store with the cream jumpsuit.
Zander had coerced her into trying on all the other outfits, including the dresses, with his flirty comments and that all-too wicked smile.
He made it fun, and after seeing his reaction to the jumpsuit, which she loved, she wasn’t as opposed to trying on more.
She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had looked at her like she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, but the jumpsuit was definitely the winner.
“That’s not happening,” Zander said. “You can’t return gifts.”
“It’s not a gift,” she challenged. “According to you, it’s a necessity to pull off this ruse.”
“The hell it is. It’s a gift to my future wife. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and headed to the other side of the corridor.
“Where are we going?”
“To get wedding rings.” He nodded to a jewelry store up ahead.
“Don’t waste your money.” She stopped walking. “You don’t have to wear a ring, and I already have one.” She tugged her hand free and held it up, wiggling her fingers to show him the ring.
“That’s an engagement ring. When we say our vows, we have to exchange wedding rings.”
She looked at him like he’d lost his mind again. That was becoming a habit. “We won’t have vows. We’re signing papers and saying I do.”
“Everyone has vows.”
“Not us,” she insisted.
“Whether we write them or they’re written for us, we’re promising to love and respect each other in sickness and in health. I intend to honor that bond, and unless you’re cool with women hitting on me, we need rings.”
“Like a ring would stop them?” She laughed. “Look at you. You’re one of those guys who’s blessed from head to toe.”