Page 33 of Chasing Stripes (Enchanted Falls #3)
THIRTY-THREE
“Y ou’re sure this dress looks okay?” Artemis smoothed her hands over the emerald fabric, turning sideways to examine her reflection in the bakery’s back office mirror. The color complemented her golden blonde hair, and—she hoped—would match Bartek’s eyes.
Tilly leaned against the doorframe, watching with a knowing smile. “For the fifth time, you look gorgeous. Though I’m curious why you’re so concerned about dinner with the Arbor family.”
Heat crept up Artemis’s neck. “It’s important to make a good impression on potential... business partners.”
“Business partners. Of course.” Tilly’s eyes twinkled. “That’s why you’ve changed outfits three times and why those handprints on your waist haven’t stopped glowing all day.”
Artemis glanced down where golden light shimmered faintly through her dress. “They have a mind of their own.”
“Mm-hmm.” Tilly straightened, brushing a speck of flour from her niece’s shoulder. “Well, your ‘business partner’ is here.”
The bell above the bakery door chimed, and Artemis’s heart skipped. She’d recognize that steady tread anywhere, the purposeful gait of someone accustomed to commanding attention without trying.
Bartek stood in the bakery’s front room, examining a display of fruit tarts with surprising intensity. The evening light streamed through the windows, illuminating his profile—strong jaw, straight nose, those expressive eyebrows drawn together in concentration. He’d exchanged his usual Henley for a dark button-down that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders.
He glanced up as she approached, and the world seemed to pause. His eyes widened slightly, that amber flicker dancing in their depths.
“You look...” He cleared his throat. “The dress suits you.”
“Eloquent as always, Mr. Arbor,” Tilly teased, emerging from the back.
Bartek’s lips quirked. “I save my speeches for pride meetings.”
“Smart man.” Tilly winked at Artemis. “Don’t keep her out too late. We’ve got the festival planning meeting tomorrow.”
“I’ll have her back at a reasonable hour,” Bartek promised, his tone so formal that Artemis nearly laughed.
“I’m standing right here,” she reminded them both. “And perfectly capable of setting my own curfew.”
Bartek’s expression softened, something warm and private passing between them. “Ready?”
The question felt weighted with meaning beyond this evening.
“Lead the way,” she replied.
Outside, his sleek black SUV waited at the curb. Bartek opened the passenger door for her, his hand instinctively finding the small of her back to guide her. The contact, even through clothing, sent electricity racing up her spine.
The handprints at her waist pulsed in response, glowing through her dress.
“They’re getting stronger,” he observed, his voice dropping an octave as he helped her into the seat.
“They respond to proximity,” Artemis admitted. “And... other things.”
His eyes darkened momentarily before he closed her door and circled to the driver’s side.
Inside the car, his scent enveloped her—cedar and spice with that underlying wild note that marked him as shifter. Artemis inhaled discreetly, finding comfort in the now-familiar fragrance.
“Nervous?” Bartek asked as they pulled away from the curb.
“A little,” she confessed. “I haven’t done the ‘meet the family’ thing in... well, ever.”
He shot her a surprised glance. “Never?”
“My relationships in the city were casual. Brief.” She toyed with her purse strap. “Nothing serious enough to warrant family introductions.”
“And this is?”
The question hung between them, layered with meaning.
“This is... different,” she said finally.
His hand found hers across the center console, warm and steady. “For what it’s worth, they already like you.”
“How could they? They haven’t met me.”
“My sister stalked your bakery’s social media page. The twins are obsessed with your rainbow cupcakes. And my mother...” He sighed. “My mother has opinions on everything, but especially on who would make a good match for her son.”