Chapter 20
ZACH
The industrial Bernina hummed, a familiar sound that usually centered him. But today, Zach's focus was shot. Every stitch on the Wild Sack prototype pulled his thoughts tighter around one thing: Piper.
This Wild Sack was starting to take shape—his fourth today—but the momentum had slowed. Not from fatigue, exactly. Though the day was as intense as the previous. This day didn't have a dozen puppies roaming his factory floor, so that was movement in the right direction.
This was more of a quiet crowd in the back of his mind, thoughts jostling for his attention all at the same time.
He leaned back for a second, rolling his shoulders. The workshop smelled like home. Fabric and oil, with a hint of dust he'd never noticed until then.
But the football field loomed larger in his mind: the upcoming live-stream, Anna and Drake's wedding… Piper. He tugged the next swath of dyed cotton into position and lowered the presser foot.
Somewhere between the stitch lines and the seam allowance, he wasn't nervous—at least not in a traditional sense. But something hovered, right behind his usual focus.
He exhaled and ran the machine again. The fabric surged forward, the line of stitching clean and tidy. Four sacks down, two to go.
He was running a seam when his phone buzzed, Piper's name lit up the screen. The stitch went crooked.
Piper: Need your help. Can I come over?
Zach: Anytime you want to.
Piper: OMW
She showed up with Anna's wedding dress in a garment bag, another brown sack filled with white cloth, and an expression that only prompted lots of questions and zero answers.
"What's up?" he asked, eyeing the bag.
"Hear me out, before you say no," Piper said, laying it across one of the huge pressboard tables they used to cut material.
"Always a great start to any conversation." He crossed his arms.
"Anna's dress doesn't fit," Piper said, unzipping the bag so the silk fabric spilled out. "I had her try it on, and we went through everything together, and even if we let it out, it's not working."
The back of his neck went itchy. "Okay."
"I had her show me pictures of dresses she likes," Piper said. "And I don't sew, I don't know exactly what's possible, but I think we could let this one out as much as possible, then add to it from a style she likes and…somehow…make it work."
Before he could say anything, her phone was out, and she was pointing to the different styles Anna liked.
She wasn't wrong. Each of these styles would work with the dress Anna loved and would give her extra room in the midsection.
Piper ran her fingers over the line of tiny stitches. "We talked about getting a totally different dress, and she is good with it."
"Because Anna will go with most anything," Zach added.
Piper nodded. "But she worries she'll feel like she is going to be wearing someone else's story."
He nodded. "Where do I come in?"
"I think between the two of us—mostly you—we can make the dress she loves like a little hug of who she was, who she is, and who she's becoming."
The original gown was super tight through the bust and waist with a flowing skirt.
"That silk's gonna pucker like crazy if I misplace a stitch," he mused.
"I know I can go find someone to fix this, but you know what you're doing and you know the bride. Do you know enough about fashion to make it work?" She shifted her weight.
"No. I don't really know much about fashion in the runway sense, and one wrong cut? This dream dress is toast."
Piper worried her bottom lip.
"But I do know how to pull things apart and put them back together.
And I definitely understand how to make clothing more comfortable.
" Zach nodded slowly, mentally dismantling the dress.
"If we let it out and use as much as the dress has to give with the seams, then I can add a drape right here that will cover any of the parts that aren't perfect because of the alteration. "
He pointed to the seam along the neck, flipping it over to see how much room they had to work with on the stitches. "If I lower the neckline and add a touch of sheer overlay, we'll give some extra space in the chest area, so she can move easily."
Piper leaned in, her tone hopeful. "You could really do that?"
"I mean… yeah," he said, already reaching for a pencil. "It's fabric and a sewing machine. That's kind of my thing."
He sketched a quick idea, then quickly crumpled it. Too boxy. So he tried again.
"Anna was a stressed-out mess about this. I figure we fix it for her and then show her. Worst case? We go buy another dress off the rack because that's what we'd have to do anyway. Best case? She loves it."
"She'll love it," Zach assured, jerking his chin toward the brown paper bag. "What's in there?"
"Supplies," Piper said, pulling out lace, organza, and satin. "I stopped by the fabric store to see what they had."
"I might need her to try it on so I can get sizing and not mess it up."
"I thought of that, too, so I got her measurements." Piper pulled out her phone and held the list to Zach.
"Okay," Zach said.
"Okay?" Piper asked. "You're just good with this?"
"I mean, it needs done and I can do it, so, yeah." He shrugged, reaching for the various fabrics to get a good feel.
"Right now?" Piper asked.
"Bad timing?" Not like they had a ton of time to work with here.
"No, I can totally do it now. I just had some…."
"Some?"
"Some organization for my D.I.C.K. clients. But that can wait," Piper said, feeling the dress. "You're the absolute best."
"Let's grab that mannequin over there. The smaller one. Maybe if we stuff a bra on it, it'll be close to Anna's size?"
"Borrow mine," Piper said, already starting to undo the clasp. Then she hesitated, fingers stalling on the clasp as though torn by whether to be professional or not.
"I was hoping you might offer, because I am fresh out," he said, and damn it came out huskier than he'd intended.
"I'm generous like that," she said with a sly smile.
* * *
Zach leaned back on his heels as he assessed the drape of the silk organza across the torso. Holding the folded edge in place with two fingers, he reached for a straight pin with the other hand.
Piper handed it right over. Her breath shallow and barely audible above the faint hum of the fabric iron warming on the console behind them.
"Turn it a little left," he murmured, voice low, professional.
She did as asked, the hem of the gown shifting with the movement. Her dark eyes met his in the studio mirror and held.
The chemistry had been there since day one. Volatile in all the best ways.
In the quiet studio, nothing had changed. Though, they were both giving the wedding dress the reverence it deserved since it wasn't theirs. A guy didn't make a pass at a woman while working on his sister's wedding gown. Even he knew that was wrong.
Zach swallowed and reached again for another pin, and her fingertips brushed against his palm as he handed it over.
"So?" she teased, eyebrow arched.
"So…?" he shot back, eyes locked on the fabric but grinning like he'd been caught.
She tilted her head slightly, only enough to glance back at him.
"Tess?" The name hung in the air like a dropped pin. Sharp and precise and not something you wanted to pick up wrong and get stuck with.
He stood and stepped around to face her, his hands sliding from fabric to his pockets with practiced ease.
"She clearly needs you," he said, exhaling through his nose. "And I'm glad I told you, so you weren't totally blindsided by everything the other day."
"It was a lot," she said with a laugh. "How'd you convince Babushka to help out? And bring her friends?"
"You think she'd let us do it without her? Hell, no. As soon as she got wind that it was happening, she jumped right in and brought her friends along. That's what she does."
Piper didn't say anything. A beat passed, and then another.
He ran a rough hand through his hair.
"You know," she said slowly, "I'm impressed that you can do this. Prince Charming never made Cinderella's dress. He just showed up with a shoe."
The air between them crackled with sparks and, for a second, Piper forgot the dress wasn't hers.
Zach snorted. "Well," he said, voice low again, "Nobody's perfect. Not even Prince Charming."
She smiled up at him. He stepped closer to her, only a fraction. Enough to feel the warmth of her skin, enough to watch her pupils grow darker.
"He had a magical fairy godmother do the hard part," she murmured, her breath against his lips.
"No fairy godmother here," Zach said. "Just fabric, design, and a hell of a lot of pins."
"And," Piper said, eyes locked on his, "a guy who knows how to make a dress."
Zach sighed, breaking the silence. "I'm not perfect, Piper."
She trailed a fingertip along the bottom of his lip. "No one is."
They didn't say anything more as he finished pinning, adjusting the sleeves, modifying the neckline.
The dress looked good. They were doing this thing.
He turned to her as her arms relaxed and she let out a breath. For once, he let himself look a little longer than he should. At the subtle arch of her collarbone, the smudge of freckles across her shoulder, the rise and fall of her chest beneath her professional blazer.
He cleared his throat and stepped back.
"It's getting late. I think that's it for today," he said hoarsely. "I can start stitching tomorrow."
"I can stop by?" she asked, a sleepy end-of-the-day note to her tone.
"Or you could just stay?" he asked, trying for casual.
Her smile curved slow and sly across her face. "Now that we've done the dress. Do you want to undress me?"
He froze. Then barked a laugh and the spark between them lit brighter, pulling them together. He stole a kiss on the stairs, then another. Zach nearly tripped, too busy tasting her to watch his feet. Not like the AV closet. He grinned against her mouth. No emergency broadcast needed this time.
This wasn't fabric or pinning designs. No, this was a spark that could torch his whole loft.