Page 57 of Fragile Hearts

“Okay,” I repeat with a nod.

“Babe, come on, enough stalling, get out here,” I call from where I’m sitting on the couch.

I’ve been sitting here for the better part of the last thirty minutes, dressed in a pair of dress pants and a white shirt, my jacket on the couch beside me, ready to go to dinner. The doors to the bedroom finally open, and I watch as Sloane walks out, wearing the dress and shoes I brought for her. Her hair and makeup are done.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit.” I say, standing from the couch, my heart pounding in my chest. I mean, I love Sloane when she’s standing in our kitchen in a tank and undies, having just rolled out of bed, but looking at her now? Yeah, I’m falling even more in love with her. Again.

Sloane walks slowly toward me, a nervous look on her face. “Seriously, how did you...”

I smile, scrubbing a hand across my jaw as I take her in.

She looks fucking spectacular.

Gorgeous.

Like a dream come true.

And she’s all fucking mine.

“Alana told me your sizes,” I whisper, taking a step toward her.

“Owen, this...” she pauses, looking down at the dress that hugs her body. It’s some kind of floaty material, but it also hugs her curves, showcasing her amazing tits with the plunging neckline, and the back...fuck me. The back. It’s all strings and nothing and her skin, and fuck, now all I want to do is take her back to our bedroom and peel this dress off her. Plus, the color. The pink that is now my most favorite color because it’s the color of all my favorite parts of Sloane.

“This is fucking perfection,” I whisper as I close the distance between us. “Sloane, you look gorgeous.”

She smiles up at me, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “This dress is gorgeous. These shoes are gorgeous.”

With a grin, I wrap my arms around her waist, my hands resting on her ass as I pull her close. “They really are. I’m also gonna fuck you in nothing but these shoes later tonight,” I whisper, my mouth against her ear.

Sloane shivers in my arms as she whispers, “You better.”

I grab a few pictures in the full-length mirror in the bedroom, sending them to the girls and their responses have me laughing. All of them can’t stop commenting on how awesome a job Owen did picking out my dress and shoes, and I couldn’t agree more.

“Hold on,” I say, looking up at Owen. “Do we have time for—” Before I can finish, Owen cuts me off, his hand around my wrist, his grip tight, and I giggle.

“Time for a quickie?” he says, and I shake my head, laughing now. “What? That’s not what you were going to say?”

“No, my insatiable boy, that’s not what I was going to say.” Owen sighs loudly, rolling his eyes, and it only makes me laugh harder. “I was going to ask if we have time for a couple of quick pictures. I want to send a few more to the girls.”

Owen growls, his hands running over my body, touching every inch of bare skin. “You in this fucking dress. You’re killing me.”

“Later, I promise,” I murmur to him, kissing his neck. Taking his hand, I lead him back into the bedroom, stopping in front of the mirror. “Smile.”

I hold up my phone, getting a few pictures of us, and I quickly text them to the girls. Not that I don’t expect it, but it only takes seconds before my phone is blowing up with replies.

* * *

Daisy: Omg, Ken and Barbie!

Sage: You two are seriously the cutest.

Alana: Remember when you tried to tell yourself you hated him?

Alana: He’s perfect and so are you.

* * *

It’s Alana’s text that gets me. I did try. I tried so damn hard, but in the back of my mind, I knew I didn’t hate him. I just didn’t think I deserved a guy like Owen. One who would treat me well and who would be able to look past the life I had before meeting him. He felt out of my league, and to be honest, sometimes he still does.