perfect!” I chuckle, brushing my hands down my skintight dress. “Though I’m like ninety-percent positive I won’t be able to sit in this thing without it splitting at the ass.”
“I’m wondering how you’re going to even walk in those shoes…” She raises her brows at my five-inch platforms. I’ve worn heels less than five times in my whole life, and it’s possible I might trip and break my neck.
I walk around my bed, and my ankle jerks, making me stumble. “Dammit. How do women wear these things?”
“You should’ve practiced,” she scolds.
“No, no. I think I have this…” I straighten my back and walk around my room. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’re walking in slow motion,” Elle deadpans.
“It’s the only way.”
She snickers, shaking her head at me.
“You’re basically a doctor, so if I twist something, you can fix me up!” I grin.
“A vet,” she emphasizes. “An animal doctor.”
“Potato, potahto.”
“No, ma’am. Now, if you’re birthing a calf or a foal, then I’m your girl. Otherwise, you’d be going to see my parents at the ER.” Both my uncle Evan and aunt Emily would no doubt give me a hard time for wearing these, especially if they saw me at the hospital banged up.
“Yeah, I don’t want that. Would kinda ruin my whole rough sex plans for tonight.”
Elle gags, making me laugh.
“Please, let’s go before you hurt something.” She stands, and we head for the door.
We drive to Diesel’s house where Dawson’s staying tonight. He wanted to give Chelsea and Trace a chance to have a romantic night without worrying about getting up with a toddler in the morning. They’ve been seriously dating for the past few months, and they’re great together. Trace adores Dawson and is great with him. He’s surrounded by so much love and is the luckiest little kid to have four adults who get along and can co-parent together.
Elle parks her truck, and I slowly get out, adjusting my dress before making my way to the door. As soon as it opens and he sees me walking up his steps, his jaw drops.
“Hooooly fuck.”
Seeing Diesel’s face was totally worth it.
“You like?” I ask, swallowing hard.
Elle comes to my side. “He better, considering what it took to get you in that thing.”
“I definitely do, but now I don’t want anyone else to see you…” He pulls me into his arms and slides one hand down my back. “Especially with your legs and ass on display. Hell, you’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?”
“She’s gonna kill herself in those heels,” Elle says, snickering as she walks into the house, and Dawson comes running toward her.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those before.” His gaze lowers, admiring every inch of me.
“Nope, but I wanted to wear them for a special occasion.”
“Then we better get going because my mind is running wild with ideas…” He closes the gap between us and kisses me. “Like right now, I’m envisioning you bent over wearing only those heels.”
“Mmm…now that I can probably arrange,” I whisper, brushing my lips against his again.
“Daddy!” Dawson interrupts, tugging on his jeans.
We quickly pull apart. I forgot we had an audience.
“What is it, bud?” Diesel kneels, removing his cowboy hat.
“Aunt Ellie said I could have cereal for supper!” His smile’s so wide and genuine, it’s impossible to tell him no.
“Is that so?”
I crack up laughing because Dawson’s obsessed with cereal. Ever since we tried that potty training trick, it’s all he wants to eat.
“Would you rather I feed him something I make? Because trust me, it won’t be good. That’s Maize’s area.”
Elizabeth Bishop is smart as a whip, but her cooking skills are null.
Diesel picks him up and stands. “Alright, buddy. You have fun with Aunt Ellie.” He kisses his head, then hands him off to Elle. “In bed by eight,” he reminds her.
“This isn’t my first babysitting rodeo,” she mocks. “I have this. We’re gonna get high on sugar, run a mile, then crash out. Easy peasy.”
Diesel groans.
“Bye, lovebirds!” Elle all but pushes us out the door, and Diesel takes my hand, threading our fingers together as we walk to his truck.
“Can you actually walk in those things?” he asks, opening the passenger side for me.
“Where’s your confidence in me?”
He lifts me, and I settle into the seat.
“About three inches lower.” He snickers.
I glare at him, buckling in. “We’re on a date, mister. You’re supposed to be charming and romantic, remember?”
Diesel clears his throat and slides his hands down his dressy button-up shirt. “Startin’ now.” He throws me a wink,