She blushes, drops her eyes to the fingers she’s wringing together across her stomach. The panic on her face when she found me on the sidewalk earlier flashes like a beacon in my mind.
“Hannah.” I wait the few moments it takes for her to look at me again. “Forgive me if I’m crossing a line here, but whatever he did to make you run…it’s his loss. And if he didn’t look at you the way you should be looked at on today of all days, then he’s blind and he doesn’t deserve you.”
A tear falls down her cheek. She brushes it away and shakes her head. “I’m a mess.”
“You’re not a mess. You’re…beautiful.” The last word comes out in a rush, my lungs forgetting how air works.
When she doesn’t reply right away, I take a breath and return to the buttons. I barely hear when she finally does respond, voice hushed. “Thank you.”
I give her a wink in the mirror. Her lips tip up.
“What do you do, Hannah?” I ask in an attempt to shift the conversation, hands still failing miserably at my task.
“I’m in Public Relations. You?”
“Army.” She huffs an amused sound. I give her a pointed look. “Is that funny?”
“Not at all. It’s just…not a surprise. Military suits you.”
“Well,” I sigh, glaring at the buttons, “unfortunately, my training has failed me.”
“Mmm, a travesty. I should write a letter to the President.”
“You can’t convince me this isn’t a chastity belt masquerading as a wedding dress.” I throw in the towel and drop my hands. “I’m getting nowhere back here.”
One cheek hitches on Hannah’s wicked grin. I tell my brain to ignore the way her hazel eyes sparkle at me.
“I could…” I ease back, creating space, my body on fire at the mere thought of what I’m about to suggest. “I could rip it.”
She smothers a smile. “It’s not how I imagined my wedding dress being ripped off at the end of the night, but it’ll have to do.”
I drag a hand over my mouth.This girl.
One step forward, then another, until I’m close enough to smell the floral waves of her shampoo. With the strongest grip I can muster, I fist the fabric on either side of the top two buttons I’ve managed to release. Our gazes lock.
“Do it, “ she says, one hand braced over her chest to hold the dress and the other flat against the mirror.
I haul in a breath, hold it, and pull. The sound of fabric tearing fills the changing room as the dress splits in half under my grip. Buttons snap, bouncing off the wall. Hannah’s soft little gasp—my God.
She slaps a hand over her mouth to cover her laugh, completely oblivious to the string of deity-laden curses lodged in the back of my throat. The seam splits over the curve of her ass. Two perfect dimples on her lower back. White lace thong. And skin.
So. Much. Skin.
Drawing back, I release the dress, swipe up my helmet, tell her I’ll meet her on the other side, and get the hell out of there.
Once I have some room to breathe, I fire off a text to Pops.
Me
Long story but I ran into somebody that needed help. I’ll be back later tonight.
P.S. I got the money.
Pops
Okay.
-Norman