An After-Hours Affair

Eight

Mitch hadn’t lost the letter to the senator. He couldn’t careless about the letter to the senator. All he was looking for was an excuse to come and see Jenny. She’d seemed like she was doing okay at work today, but he was still guilt-ridden over the way he’d treated her. His instinct was to apologize again. But he didn’t want to belabor the issue. He supposed he wanted the best of both worlds, for Jenny to understand why they couldn’t have a relationship, but for her to still like him.

Now he glanced down at the three sets of building plans. “Which way are you leaning?” he asked in an effort to keep the conversation going.

“You sure you don’t need me to-”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved away her question. “Tell me about your house plans.”

“I haven’t decided yet.” She reflexively glanced down at the three drawings on the table.

Mitch swiveled the pages to face him, finding the contrast among the three designs fascinating. It was as if completely different people had picked them out.

The first was an ultramodern contemporary, plenty of glass and sharp angles, long rooms, with sleek storage systems and display cases for art. The second was attractive, but practical. Two stories, it had three bedrooms on the top floor, a nice-sized ensuite in the master bedroom and a small balcony off the bedroom that would overlook the lake. The kitchen and dining room were L-shaped, while the living room boasted a big stone fireplace. With the exception of the skylight in the entry hall, there wasn’t a lot to distinguish it from thousands of other practical houses in thousands of other residential neighborhoods around the state.

It was the third set of plans that had Mitch pondering. It was all arches and detail, softness and whimsy. It seemed to have a French provincial influence, and the demo pictures showed deep carpets, scrollwork on the wood and etching on the glass. The ceilings were high, with open beams, many of the walls were on forty-five degree angles, keeping the rooms from sitting square, while little wrought-iron balconies and bay windows gave the interior a wealth of nooks and crannies and the exterior complex detail.

He lifted one of the large sheets of blue line paper. “Did Emily pick this one?”

“Emily picked the contemporary. That one’s really a token plan. You know, included so we can have three distinct choices.”

“Did you pick it?”

“I did,” she acknowledged.

Now Mitch was even more curious. This plan was very unlike Jenny. Well, unlike the Jenny he thought he’d known for the past year.

“Why?” he asked her.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, out of all the thousands of house plans in all the world, why choose this one as a top three pick?”

There was a definite note of defensiveness in Jenny’s tone as she responded. “I wanted to look at something completely different.”

“I like it,” he said.

“I find it impractical.” She pointed to the living room, the dining room and one of the bedrooms. “How could you possibly arrange furniture in there?”

“I guess you’d turn it on an angle. Or have something custom designed.” He pointed to an alcove in the kitchen. “You could put a half-octagonal breakfast nook in there. Or a window seat and a planter. There are a thousand things-”

“I don’t know why I even added it to the list.” Her lips compressed into a line, and she folded her hands primly in her lap.

He covered her hands with his own. “I’m not your mother, Jenny.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She pulled herself free.

“It means, you’re allowed to like something, just because you like it. You don’t need an excuse, and it doesn’t always need to be functional, practical and utilitarian.”

“I’m not about to build an impractical house.”

“I would,” said Mitch, meaning it. He’d build whatever house struck his fancy. And he’d build it in the blink of an eye if Jenny wanted it.

He gave his head a shake, chasing away that ridiculous thought. Jenny’s taste was irrelevant when it came to his house.

“Those bay windows all add cost,” she told him. “They’ll be a pain to clean, and I can’t afford custom furniture.”

“You’ll have the insurance settlement to spend.”

She gave him a sharp glance. “You know what I mean.”

“What if you had an unlimited budget?”

“I don’t.”

“Play along with me for a second. If you had an unlimited budget?”

She mulishly set her jaw.

But he waited her out.

“Fine,” she capitulated, pointing to the French country plans. “If I had an unlimited budget, I’d add a big deck out back overlooking the lake, and a turret up front.” She moved her finger. “Right there. With a round room on the top floor that had window seating all round. I’d buy dozens of pillows and curtains with ruffles, in a floral pattern that looked like a country garden. It would have deep, cushy seats, and a thick green carpet.”

“Green?”

“Like grass. And everything would be soft.”

He took in her rosy cheeks, the pout of her mouth, the moss green of her eyes and the way her dark lashes slowly stroked with each blink. “Soft is nice.”

“This is ridiculous. I don’t know how you talked me into daydreaming.” She shook her head, moving back, appearing to physically distance herself from the whimsical house plans.

He continued to study her expression. As usual, his desire for her battled its way to the surface. But it was tempered this time, tempered by something warm, something soft and protective. His voice went husky. “It’s not ridiculous to have dreams.”

She twisted her head to look at him. “A person should stay away from dreams that have no hope of coming true.”

On impulse, he smoothed a stray lock of her hair back, tucking it behind one ear. “Those are the only kind worth having.”

She rubbed her cheek where his hand had touched it. “Really? So, what are your dreams, Mitch?”

It was impossible for him to answer. Because right then, he was toying with a dream that involved Jenny and forever.

He took a safe answer. “I want to play professional football.”

But she shook her head. “Come on, Mitch. That’s not a dream. That was already your reality. We’re playing a game. You have to come up with something you could never have in a million years.”

He searched his brain for an acceptable answer and ended up stalling. “I don’t know, Jenny. There aren’t a lot of things I can’t buy.”

“Something money can’t buy.”

“Happiness?”

“Sure.” She waited for him to elaborate.

This time, he tried to be honest. “I want the TCC to have a successful election that brings the membership together under a good leader.”

She rolled her eyes. “Lame.”

“You don’t want that?”

“Of course I want it. But that’s motherhood and apple pie. Who doesn’t want it? Plus, it’s not for you personally. Tell me something that’s for you.”

“I can’t think of anything off the top of my head.”

“Oh, yes, you can.” She was obviously not going to let this go. “I owned up to secretly wanting a silly, whimsical house. Spill.”

“You should build that house.”

“Quit stalling.”

But he had to stall, because he knew exactly what it was that would make him happy. Something he could dream about and never have. But he wasn’t going to tell Jenny. He refused to hurt her all over again.

He shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I really can’t.” Inside his head, he was asking himself what the hell he thought he was doing even flirting with the truth. He needed a lie, and he needed one quick.

“Why not?” she pressed.

“Let it go.”

“You wouldn’t let me off the hook.”

He thought about it for a moment longer. And then he gave her a different truth. “I want a miracle cure for my shoulder. I want to be back to one hundred percent.”

“You will be-”

But he shook his head. “I keep telling myself it’s getting better.” He hadn’t voiced his deep-seated fear out loud to anyone. He didn’t really know why he was doing it now. “But it’s not.”

She reached out and touched his arm, her sympathies obviously engaged. “You just have to be patient.”

“This isn’t about patience. It’s about the physical limitations on the human body.” Now that he’d stuck his toe in the pool of bald honesty, he plunged all the way under. “I see the expression on the physiotherapist’s face, the expression on my doctor’s face. They told me six months. Well, it’s been a year. And there’s been no discernable progress for the last six weeks.”

“I understand these things can plateau.”

He sent her a look that told her to stop lying.

She swallowed. “That’s your secret dream?”

“Yes.” It was the only secret dream he could tell her about. The other was a relationship between the two of them where she didn’t get hurt in the end. Impossible.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

The genuine caring in her eyes blew him away. After all that had happened, all he’d done to her, that she could muster up this kind of compassion for him was nothing short of amazing.

“Anybody ever tell you you’re a saint?”

She coughed out a laugh. “Good grief, no. My mother used to tell me I was the devil in disguise.”

“Your mother had no right to say that.”

“She was ill.”

“She was nasty.”

Jenny gave a philosophical shrug. “She’s out of the state now, and out of my day-to-day life.”

On impulse, Mitch brushed the pad of his index finger across Jenny’s temple. “Don’t let her live on up here.”

“I’m not.”

“Build the house, Jenny. The one you love.”

“Are you going to pay for it?”

It took everything Mitch had not to say yes.

Wednesday evening, Jenny determinedly rolled up the plans for the French country house and slid them into a cardboard tube. It was all well and good for Mitch to tell her to dream. But reality was reality. She wasn’t building it.

“Jenny?” Cole called from the front room. He was home earlier than usual, and she hadn’t heard him come in.

“Back here,” she answered in response, tucking the plans to the back of a shelf on his built-in china cabinet.

Cole had been incredibly generous about letting her stay with him. She was becoming positively spoiled by the cook and the housekeeper, and she now teased him about never leaving.

He’d told her she was welcome to stay as long as she liked. He said he’d begun to think of her as the sister he’d never had. Since Jenny had always wanted siblings of her own, his words had touched her on a very deep, emotional level.

He strode into the dining room, loosening his tie, having already discarded his suit jacket somewhere along the way. “Can I ask you a huge favor?” He winked and grinned. “Sis?”

“Am I going to hate this?” she teased in return.

“I hope not. You can say no if you really hate it.”

“What if I only sort of hate it?”

“Then you should say yes and make me happy.”

“Go ahead.” She pretended to brace herself against the back of a chair. “Hit me with it.”

“Jeffrey Porter called today. From the Tigers.”

“I know who you mean.”

“He offered a fifty-thousand-dollar contribution to my hospital charity if I gave him my fourth ticket for the Longhorn Banquet.”

The fourth ticket? So, he’d be attending with them.

“He’d be my date?” Jenny asked.

“He would. Tickets have been sold out for months.”

Jenny didn’t have anything against Jeffrey. She didn’t see her and Jeffrey going anywhere on the relationship front. But fifty thousand dollars was a lot of money.

“It’s a good charity?” she asked Cole.

“They’re building a new pediatric wing.”

“He won’t think he and I are on a real date, right?”

Cole shook his head.

Jenny analyzed the request for a downside. It was a lost opportunity to date someone new. Then again, there’d be a whole lot of new people at the party.

“What do you think?” Cole put in.

“As long as you don’t think I’ll be misleading him.”

“Don’t worry. He just broke up with his girlfriend. But he’s not looking for a replacement. Trust me when I tell you you’re not going to break Jeffrey’s heart.”

“That did sound kind of conceited, didn’t it?”

“It sounded very sweet. You’re a caring person, Jenny Watson.”

“And so are you.”

“You’ll tell Emily that?”

“I already have.”

“I like having you in my corner, sis.”

“And I like having you in mine.” She hesitated. “Bro.” Then she giggled. “I’ve never called anyone that in my life.”

“Then, I stand adopted. Did you pick out a dress yet?”

She shook her head. “I was thinking about going to look for something tonight.” She made a show of inhaling the spicy aroma of the cook’s baking lasagna. “After dinner.”

Cole reached into the pocket of his slacks. “Here, take my credit card.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jenny might not be able to afford custom furniture, but she could definitely afford her own clothes.

He flipped open his leather wallet. “I want you to get something special.”

“I’m not taking your credit card, Cole.”

He seemed to be ignoring her. “In fact, why don’t you call Emily. Go to Maximillians. Tell her I’m buying for you both.”

Jenny felt her jaw drop open. “The Maximillians?”

Had he lost his mind? The purses alone at that store cost three thousand dollars.

But he held out the slim platinum credit card. “If you don’t let me buy a dress for you, Emily will never let me buy one for her.”

“You can’t spend that kind of- You can’t spend any kind of money on our dresses.”

“But I can. That’s one of the perks of making a whole lot of money. You get to spend it on anything you want.”

“I’m saying no, Cole.” She took a backward step. There was no way he was talking her into doing this.

He stepped forward. “I need you to do this.”

“You don’t-”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think Emily might, just might, be slightly attracted to me.”

Slightly attracted? Jenny was pretty sure it was a lot more than slightly attracted. She also realized Emily was fighting it for all she was worth.

“I want to see what she’ll do. If she has the chance to pick out a dress, a no-holds-barred, money-is-no-object dress, just for a date with me, I really need to know what it is she’ll choose. Do me this favor, sis.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe it.” She socked Cole playfully on the shoulder. “I cannot believe you just made the one and only argument that could get me to use your credit card to buy a three thousand dollar dress.”

“Don’t restrict yourself to three thousand.” Cole grinned. “And don’t restrict yourself to a dress. You’re going to need shoes and accessories. And so will Emily.”

Jenny continued to shake her head. This was surreal.

He took her hand and placed the credit card firmly in her palm. “I mean it. You have to go wild. If you do it, Emily will do it, and then I’ll know whether or not I’ve got a shot.”

“She might just spend your money out of spite,” Jenny felt compelled to warn him. While she was pretty sure Emily harbored a secret attraction to Cole, she was also sure Emily had a very strong will. She didn’t want to fall for Cole, and she was annoyed at him for chasing her.

“I won’t get my answer because she spends my money. I’ll get my answer from what she spends it on.”

The edges of the credit card were hard against Jenny’s palm. “Are you sure about this?”

“I am positive about this. Call her. Right now.”

Jenny tucked the credit card away and reached for her phone. “What are you hoping she’ll buy?”

Cole gave a shrug. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

Jenny pressed her speed dial. Then she listened to Emily’s gasp of disbelief, followed by her growing conviction that Jenny should absolutely indulge herself at Cole’s expense and, finally, her mounting excitement as she bought fully into the plan.

Mitch had watched Jenny drive off from Cole’s house half an hour ago, so he knew Cole would be alone. He knew he had no one but himself to blame, but he missed the days of being able to wander over to Cole’s house on a whim, or having Cole wander over to his house to share the interesting bits of information from their lives. It never had to be earth-shattering, not the kind of thing where you pick up the phone to call your family or whoop it up with the gang, just the everyday, normal things that you wanted to share with another human being.

But he felt like he couldn’t invade Jenny’s space every evening. So, instead, now Cole was with Jenny, while Mitch was alone. He felt as if he’d screwed up two relationships in his life.

As he started up the driveway, Cole came out the front door, car keys in his hand, striding toward his Mustang.

“Hey, Cole,” Mitch called out, in case Cole hadn’t spotted him.

It appeared he hadn’t, because he turned guiltily. “Oh, hey, Mitch.”

“Got a hot date?” Mitch joked, striding closer.

“No. I’m…” He pocketed the keys. “It’s nothing.” He hesitated a moment longer. “You up for a beer?”

“I don’t want to hold you up.”

“No. Not at all. No big deal.”

“Where were you going?” Mitch couldn’t help but ask. It wasn’t like Cole to act all twitchy like this.

“Errands. Come on.” Cole turned back for the house. “I’ve got a couple of lagers on ice.”

Feeling vaguely like an interloper, Mitch followed along. “I got some news a few days ago.” For some reason he felt like he ought to get straight to the point.

“Good news?” asked Cole as they made their way through the house.

“Pretty good.”

Cole reached for the refrigerator door.

“I’ve been short-listed for the Youth Outreach Award at the Longhorn Banquet.”

Cole’s reach faltered. “On Saturday?”

“Yeah.” What other Longhorn Banquet was there in Texas?

There was something wrong with Cole. “And you just found out?”

“Last week, actually. But with everything that’s been going on, I didn’t want to…you know, intrude over here.”

Cole swung open the door, his voice hearty. “That’s great. Congratulations, buddy.” He snagged two bottles and pressed one into Mitch’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” Mitch had known Cole way too long to fall for this act.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

Now Mitch was getting mad. It was one thing to be ostracized by Jenny. He deserved that. But he was still Cole’s friend. “What the hell?”

“Fine.” Cole twisted off the cap. “I had four tickets. So I invited Emily. And Jeffrey is taking Jenny.”

Mitch felt as though someone had punched him in the solar plexus. “You’re double-dating?”

Cole nodded, then took a swig of the beer.

“With Jenny and Jeffrey?”

“Yes.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Me?”

“No. Jeffrey. I’m assuming you’re just trying to get into Emily’s pants.”

Cole frowned. “That’s not exactly what I had-”

“You didn’t know I’d be there. I get that. But Jeffrey.” Mitch’s anger bubbled boldly to the surface.

He’d told himself a thousand times that Jenny was allowed to date anyone she wanted. He’d forfeited his right to an opinion a couple of weeks back. But he’d warned Jeffrey away. He’d warned Jeffrey in no uncertain terms that he was to stay away from Jenny.

“Jeffrey knew you’d be there?” For some reason, that revelation made Cole smile.

“Don’t you dare laugh.”

“He’s messin’ with you, Mitch.”

“Of course he’s messin’ with me. I told him to stay away from her. I warned him not to hurt her.”

Cole looked like he had something more to say. But instead, he took the bottle of beer back from Mitch and placed them both on the granite countertop. “I sent them shopping.”

“Who?”

“Emily and Jenny. I gave them my credit card and sent them to Maximillians to buy dresses for the banquet.”

That didn’t sound right. “Jenny won’t spend your money.”

“That’s where I was headed when you showed up just now,” Cole responded. “To make sure she did.”

“You were going to Maximillians?”

“I was.”

“I’m coming, too.” Mitch pivoted to head for the front door. “And you’re not buying Jenny a dress.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, I am.”

The thread of a chuckle was back in Cole’s voice. “Why does that not surprise me?”

Mitch turned to glare at his friend.

“And good luck with that,” Cole added.

Mitch didn’t need luck. He was a professional football player. He had strength, guts, agility and endless determination. He’d already defied the odds nine ways to Sunday. He could get one woman to buy one single dress. And since it was for a date with Jeffrey, he’d push for something that went from wrists to ankles, no cleavage, preferably in a sedate gray woolen blend.

By the time they arrived at Maximillians, Mitch had decided on exactly the dress Jenny should wear. But when he entered the store and made his way to the changing area, honing in on the sounds of Jenny and Emily’s voices, the nun outfit flew right from his head.

Jenny stood in front of the three-way mirror in a black strapless sheath of a full-length dress that flared out at the knees. The top was sequined and dipped low between her breasts, clinging like a second skin.

His mouth went dry, and his knees went weak.

“You’ll have all the men at the gala panting after you like Labrador retrievers.” Emily laughed.

That was Mitch’s fear, too.

Emily was dressed in a short, full-skirted deep-blue satin dress. It was also strapless, and flared from the waist to reveal a black crinoline peeking out at the hem.

Mitch felt Cole come to a halt beside him.

Jenny gazed wide-eyed at herself in the mirror and seemed to stumble for words. “It’s too…too…”

Too everything, Mitch wanted to shout. If she was dating him, sure, it was a perfect dress. But not when she was dating Jeffrey.

“Perhaps the silver?” a sales clerk offered, holding up a slinky, short dress with capped sleeves and ties that crisscrossed the open back.

Jenny frowned at it uncertainly.

“I’ll try that one,” Emily put in, scooping the hanger from the sales clerk.

“Go with the blue,” Cole muttered under his breath.

“Can you grab me some shoes?” Emily called as she pulled the heavy curtain shut.

“Sure.” Jenny turned and immediately spotted Mitch. Her jaw dropped open, and she glanced to the right and to the left, as if looking for the punch line to a joke.

She made her way toward him, every movement sinuous and graceful. Her voice, however, was an accusatory hiss. “What are you doing here?”

“He came with me,” Cole put in, and Jenny seemed to notice Cole for the first time.

“Why?”

“I got curious,” said Cole. “I couldn’t wait to see what she picked out.”

“I meant why did you bring Mitch?”

“We were having a beer.”

Jenny compressed her lips.

“I won’t get in the way,” Mitch found himself promising.

“I’m going to ignore you,” Jenny announced.

“Fair enough. Do you want to know what I think of that dress?”

She glared at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

But when she stared at him a moment longer, he found his gaze dropping to the cleavage, to the nipped-in waist and to the clingy fabric where it hugged her hips.

“You don’t like it,” she stated.

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then what’s the problem? You’re grimacing.”

“That style isn’t you.”

“It is now.” She brushed past him. “I have to get Emily some silver shoes.”

“Get her a bag, too,” called Cole, and Jenny cracked what looked like a reluctant grin as she shook her head.

Mitch watched as she made her way across the store. She consulted with the shoe salesman, chose two pairs, then started back. On the way, she paused at a rack, taking out something gauzy and pastel, her expression softening as she ran her fingers over the fabric. But when the sales clerk approached her with two more dresses, she let the gauzy one fall back on the rack. The two women chatted on their way back to the changing area.

Curious, Mitch went to see what had caught her eye.

He couldn’t have been more surprised. It was a V-necked, spaghetti-strapped dress made of pale, mottled rainbow silk. The soft, romantic colors were very unlike Jenny, as was the swish of the layered skirt that came to points at the hem, and the tiny jewels that adorned the neck and the waist.

For some reason, the dress reminded him of the house plans. Did Jenny have a secret romantic side? Instead of geometric lines and practicality, did she truly long for swirls and irreverence? The idea intrigued him.

“Hand-painted,” came the clerk’s voice from behind his shoulder. “One of my favorite designers. Brand-new in today. Is it for someone special?”

Mitch was willing to bet every item in the store was made by one of the clerk’s favorite designers. But if this particular one had caught Jenny’s eye, he wanted to see her in it.

He nodded to the changing rooms. “Can you take it to the woman who’s trying things on? The one with the strawberry blond hair?”

“Of course.” The clerk smiled, removing the dress from the display.

“Don’t tell her it’s from me.”

The woman touched her finger to her lips to promise her silence, and Mitch gave her a nod of appreciation.

He moved to another section of the store, pretending to ignore Jenny. In his peripheral vision, he caught her puzzled frown and her initial head shake to the clerk. But the persistent clerk prevailed, and Jenny took the dress into her cubical.

Mitch made his way casually back to the changing area.

“Are you going to offer an opinion?” Emily was demanding of Cole as she modeled the silver dress. “Or just stand there and gawk?”

“I’m here to make sure you don’t go overboard with my credit card.”

“Oh, I’m going overboard all right.” She held out one of her silver sandaled feet. “See these? They’re Amerelda, three-inch heels, and I’m buying them.”

“What about the blue dress?”

“You liked the blue dress?”

“Your choice.”

“Well, I like them both.”

“Then buy them both.”

Emily put her nose in the air as she flounced off. “I think I will.”

Mitch turned to Cole and raised his brows, wondering if his friend had a master plan. “This is going to be an awfully expensive date.”

“Like I care.”

Mitch considered Cole’s determined expression, and came to the simple conclusion that he had it very, very bad for Emily Kiley. In a misery-loves-company way, it made him feel better. But only by a very small margin.

“I hope she’s worth it,” he offered to Cole.

“I figure I’ll know by the end of the weekend.”

Then Jenny appeared in the hand-painted silk, and the breath left Mitch’s body. She looked like a goddess, a fairy nymph who wandered out of a mystical garden. The colors set off her honey-toned skin, meshing perfectly with her minimal makeup and her delicate features. Her limbs were long and graceful, and he immediately pictured her with wild flowers in her hair, tiny white satin sandals and a trailing bouquet.

He found his feet moving, taking him closer to where she swayed one way then the other in front of the mirror. The words buy it, buy it, buy it echoed through his head, but he kept himself determinedly silent.

“It’s really not me,” she said to no one in particular.

Mitch moved closer still. “Pretend for a minute,” he said softly. “That you’re not you.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous.” But she smiled as she said it, and a warmth invaded his system.

“It goes with your eyes,” he offered, easing closer still, turning the conversation more intimate.

“It would have to. There’s every color in the universe on this.”

“Do you like it?”

“Maybe if I was a fairy princess. But I’d never wear it again.”

“So what?”

“I’m not going to buy a dress this expensive to wear once.”

“I’ll buy it for you,” Mitch found himself vowing. Then he instantly regretted the words when her smile disappeared.

“Cole told me his plan,” Mitch quickly amended, backpedaling fast. “I only meant that anything that won’t fit on his credit card will fit on mine. Don’t you want to be a fairy princess for just one night?”

A longing burned deep in Jenny’s green eyes, and he knew in that instant she was the fairy princess. She’d been the cautious, perfect child for her mother, the professional, meticulous employee at the TCC, and the chic, sophisticated city girl for Emily, but deep down inside, Jenny wanted to be the princess.

She needed this dress. And she needed the whimsical house and the custom furniture. And Mitch vowed to himself that he would move heaven and earth to make those things happen for her.

Suddenly, Emily appeared from her change room, and her eyes went wide when she saw Jenny. “Wow. That’s sure not you.”

“It’s not, is it?” And some of the light went out of Jenny’s eyes.

Cole moved closer to stand next to Mitch.

“But isn’t that the point?” Mitch quickly put in, feeling almost desperate. “For Jenny to buy something completely different? When is she going to get a chance like this again? It’s hand-painted silk,” he parroted the sales clerk. “Just came into the store today. One of her-” he gestured vaguely to the clerk across the store “-favorite designers.”

Both Jenny and Emily blinked at him in surprise.

“I overheard,” he defended.

Emily took another look at the dress. “Well, maybe,” she allowed.

“Once in a lifetime,” Mitch repeated. Then he lowered his voice for Jenny’s ears alone. “A dream.”

Jenny hesitated for a long moment. Then she turned back to the mirror. She pivoted, letting the skirt swirl around her thighs.

“It’ll look great on the dance floor,” Mitch dared. “You need some white satin sandals, low heels, maybe a ribbon at the ankle.”

“What the hell’s up with you?” Cole muttered beside him.

“Shut up.”

“That might look good,” said Emily. “Really, what the heck?”

Jenny smiled, and Mitch’s chest went tight. It was a perfectly natural reaction, he assured himself. He’d never claimed that he didn’t admire Jenny, only that he wasn’t any good for her. He wanted her to be happy. She deserved it.