Chapter Twenty-Two
Melina
“I can’t believe he’s taking you,” Olivia said for the third time as I pulled on my coat.
“He offered. Lucy needs a dress. And he said he knows people.” I shrugged, trying to sound casual about Zane blow-my-mind Alexander taking my little sister dress shopping.
“He knows people.” Olivia leaned against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed, her expression somewhere between amused and impressed. “Does he know everyone in town or is it just an excuse to spend more time with you?”
“Probably both.”
She grinned. “You know Lucy hasn’t stopped talking about him, right? She’s changed her outfit twice.”
“She’s nervous about finding a dress.”
“She’s smitten. We all are.” Olivia’s grin softened into something more genuine. “But seriously, Meli. The way he is with Dad, with us…it’s not an act, is it?”
“No,” I said, and the certainty of it caught me off guard. “It’s not.”
The honk of Zane’s truck horn saved me from whatever Olivia was about to say next. Lucy came thundering down the stairs in her third outfit of the morning—jeans, a sweater, and a look of barely contained excitement.
“Ready?” I asked.
“I’ve been ready for an hour.” She grabbed her coat and was out the door before I could zip mine.
Zane was leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed, wearing that easy grin that made my pulse jump every single time. He straightened when he saw Lucy barreling toward him.
“Hey, kid. You ready to find the best dress in Copper Ridge?”
“Define best,” Lucy said, climbing into the back seat. “Because Melina’s version of best and mine are very different.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m in charge today.”
I shook my head as I climbed into the passenger side. “You have no idea what you’ve signed up for.”
“I never do.” He caught my hand across the console and pressed his lips to my knuckles before shifting the truck into drive. “That’s what makes it fun.”
He drove past every shop I would have picked and pulled up in front of a boutique I’d walked past a hundred times and never once considered setting foot in. It was the kind of store that didn’t put prices in the window. The kind that was way outside my budget.
But Zane walked in like he owned the place—which, knowing his family, was an actual possibility—and within minutes, he was chatting with the salesclerk like they were old friends.
“Margot, this is Lucy. She needs something for the Winter Festival Dance. Something that’ll make her date jealous of himself.”
Margot, an older woman with reading glasses perched on her nose and a measuring tape draped over her shoulders, looked Lucy up and down with a practiced eye. “I think we can manage that. What color are we thinking?”
Lucy’s eyes went wide, and she looked to me for guidance.
Before I could say anything, Zane stepped in beside her. “What’s your favorite color?” he asked.
“Blue. But not dark blue. More like…” She hesitated, her cheeks flushing pink. “Like ice. That really pale, clear kind.”
“Then that’s what we’re getting.” He turned to Margot. “You heard the lady.”
Margot smiled and led Lucy toward a rack near the window, pulling options as they went. Lucy’s fingers ran tentatively over the fabrics while Margot held dresses up against her, tilting her head and murmuring compliments.
Zane wandered the shop with his hands in his pockets, looking completely out of place among the silk and lace and taffeta, and somehow entirely at home at the same time.
I hung back and let them work, drifting along a nearby rack without really seeing anything on it. My attention was on Zane. The warmth of seeing him here, being patient and kind with my little sister like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He didn’t have to do this. He had nothing to gain from spending his morning in a dress shop with a teenager. But here he was, unhurried and easy, no agenda, no impatience, no trace of obligation. And something deep in my chest ached in the best way.
Margot pulled a pale ice-blue dress with delicate beading along the neckline from the rack, and Lucy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I love that one.”
She looked to Zane, not Margot, not me. Like his opinion was the one that mattered.
“Then go try it on,” he said with a grin.
Margot draped it over her arm along with the others they’d picked out and led Lucy toward the fitting room.
Zane wandered over to me, leaning against the rack I’d been pretending to browse.
“You’re good at this,” I said.
“At what? Standing around while women shop?”
“At making people feel like they matter.”
He went quiet for a moment, his shoulder pressing against mine. “She’s a good kid, Melina. She deserves to feel special for a night.”
“She does.” My throat tightened. “She hasn’t had a lot of that lately.”
“I know.” His hand found mine and squeezed. “Neither have you.”
Before I could respond, the fitting room curtain swept open, and Lucy stepped out in the dress she’d admired.
It was beautiful on her. The color was perfect, the fit was right, and the beading caught the light when she moved.
But it was the look on her face that got me.
Shy and hopeful and lit up from the inside.
“Oh, Lucy,” I breathed.
“Is it okay?” She smoothed her hands down the front, turning to check herself in the three-way mirror.
“Okay? Kid, that Jasper guy doesn’t stand a chance,” Zane said, and the easy pride in his voice made my eyes sting.
She beamed. Full-on, radiant. And when she caught my eye in the mirror, I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“This is the one,” she decided, spinning once more. “Right?”
“That’s the one,” I agreed.
Lucy disappeared back into the fitting room to change, and Zane went to stand near the checkout counter, his hands shoved back in his pockets. I lingered near the fitting rooms, waiting for Lucy, when Margot appeared beside me.
“Would you like to try something on?” she asked, already pulling a hanger free before I could answer. “This one would be stunning on you.”
It was gold. Not flashy gold, not costume gold, but a warm, burnished shade that seemed to glow under the shop lights. The fabric was fluid and light, with a subtle shimmer that moved like water when I touched it.
“Oh, I’m not shopping for myself,” I said, even as my fingers lingered on the silk.
“Just try it,” Lucy called from behind the curtain. “For fun.”
“Yes, for fun,” Margot said with a wink, and something in me caved.
Why not?
I took the dress into the other fitting room and stepped into it. The fabric slid over my skin like it had been made for me, and when I turned to the mirror, my breath caught.
The lines were simple, the back cut low, and the gold caught the light with every movement, warming my skin, making me look like someone I barely recognized. Someone who wasn’t tired or stressed or held together by caffeine and credit cards.
“Let me see.” Lucy appeared at the curtain before I could stop her, and her mouth fell open. “Oh my God, Meli. You have to get it.”
“Lucy...”
“I’m serious. You look incredible. Like, red-carpet incredible.” She grabbed my arm and tried to pull me out of the fitting room. “Come show Zane.”
“No.” I planted my feet. “I’m not showing Zane. And I’m not buying it.” I checked the price tag, and the fantasy shattered. “See? Two months’ pay. For a dress.”
Lucy’s face fell, but she recovered with a stubborn lift of her chin that reminded me so much of Dad it hurt. “You deserve something beautiful, Melina. You deserve it more than anyone I know.”
My throat went tight. “You’re sweet. But deserving it and affording it are two different things.”
I took one last look in the mirror, memorized the way it felt, and took it off. Some things just weren’t meant to be.
“Find something?” Zane asked when I came out, Lucy’s dress draped over his arm.
“Nothing special,” I lied, smoothing my hair with a smile.
At the register, Zane pulled out his wallet before I could reach for my purse. I opened my mouth to argue, and he held up a hand. “This is my thing. I offered, and I want to do it.”
“Zane—”
“Melina.” He fixed me with a look that was equal parts authority and affection. “Let me do something nice for your sister. Please.”
Lucy was watching us with wide eyes and a barely suppressed grin. I sighed and let him pay, because fighting with him in front of my sister about money was not the kind of example I wanted to set. Even if my pride was screaming.
“Thank you,” Lucy said as we walked back to the truck, the dress bag clutched to her chest like treasure. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time.”
“You’re welcome, kid.” Zane ruffled her hair, and she ducked away laughing. “But you’ve got to promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Save me a dance.”
Her cheeks went pink, and she nodded, climbing into the back seat with her dress held carefully on her lap.
The drive home was full of Lucy’s chatter—about the dance, about what shoes she’d wear, about whether Jasper would know how to slow dance or if she’d have to teach him. Zane listened to every word, asked questions, and offered opinions with the kind of easy interest that couldn’t be faked.
And I sat in the passenger seat, watching the snow-covered town pass by my window. Something shifted inside me. Something permanent.
This man, whose reputation said he’d never stick around for anyone, had just proven he was not only interested but invested. Dependable and trustworthy.
I couldn’t deny it anymore. I was falling for Zane Alexander. Hard. And for the first time, it didn’t even feel like a risk. Not because of the sex or the grand gestures. Because of this. The quiet, unremarkable act of showing up for my family like they were his own.
When we pulled into the driveway, Lucy thanked him three more times before running inside to show Olivia the dress. Zane and I sat in the truck for a moment, the engine idling.
I leaned across the console and kissed him. Slow and soft and full of everything I wasn’t ready to say out loud. “Thank you for today.”
“Anytime, firecracker.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I mean that. Anytime. Anywhere. Whatever you need.”
“Anything at all?” I licked my lips. “What if there’s a lot of effort involved?”
His green eyes darkened, his smile turning devious. “Firecracker, the harder the better.”
And from the look on his face, he wasn’t talking about dress shopping.
Which was good. Because neither was I.