Page 88
Story: The Hometown Legend
“I’ll go with you.”
Her eyes looked vaguely pleading then.
“Oh, you meant you didn’t want me to go with you.”
“No,” she said. “No. Yes. I don’t... I’m a little embarrassed. But I was borrowing Fia’s dress the other night, and I don’t want to do that this time. I want to have something of my own to wear.”
“Sure,” he said. “That’s completely fair.”
“If you want to, you can tell me if it’s good. You’re a man.”
“Yeah,” he said, his tone flat. “I am.”
“I have terrible fashion sense.”
He looked at the loose, flowing dress she was wearing. He would never have called her fashion sense terrible.
She looked like a little relic, maybe, but he thought it was pretty.
“All right, let’s go. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
“I can’t help it. I’m probably going to be.”
“I mean, I can’t stop you from being embarrassed if you want to be.”
“I’m always embarrassed.”
They drove down to the end of the street, past all the little shops and restaurants, and through the town’s one traffic light.
They pulled over at the curb, and Rory scampered out of the truck.
He followed her in but hung back by the door while she bit her lip and looked around at all the different clothes.
“Can I help?” A woman was working behind the counter who looked a few years younger than Rory.
“Yes please,” said Rory.
That was how Rory found herself in a dressing room with an endless array of dresses being thrust her way.
Gideon stayed in his position.
And that was when the torture started.
She came out in a tight black velvet dress that made the heat in his blood something more pronounced and harder to deny.
Then there was something light and wispy that he was sure he could see the silhouette of her legs through.
She tried on a green dress that skimmed her curves loosely but looked elegant.
He was basic, though, so he liked that black velvet one that hugged her curves.
He had never been a man with a particular type. He liked women.
Appreciated softer, more dramatic curves, and a muscular, athletic frame. Enjoyed pint-sized bottle rockets and tall Amazons.
Rory’s curves were compact but lovely. She was short, but something about her proportions made her legs look long.
She even had freckles on her shoulders, and he found that sexier than he had a right to.
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