it. I still have it, actually.”
She pointed toward the enormous chest by the sewing machine. “It’s in there. Whenever things get really rough with a design, I take it out and look at it. It reminds me of all the passion I feel for creating these dresses.”
“That is wonderful,” he said. And it was. Watching Chantal talking about her designs was like watching the sun rising. “I would like to see it.”
Her blush was instant. “Oh, no. It’s not really fit for public consumption.”
He arched a brow at her. “Didn’t you wear it for your prom?”
“Shit, no. I started creating the dress when I had all of these ideas about what high school would be. The reality was so different. I didn’t go to my prom.”
“That makes me sad. I’m sure you would have looked wonderful.”
“Ha. No, don’t flatter me.” She hopped up from the couch, headed for the chiffonier, and produced a red garment bag. Chantal slipped out a dress with a soft pink skirt. It was made up of layers upon layers of tulle, pinned together by tiny little butterflies. The bodice was a dark pink corset with quite the neckline. Rush was suddenly desperate to see Chantal wearing the dress. It was juvenile, but it was clear she had talent. It would have looked wonderful on a teenage Chantal.
“If younger me had seen you in that gown, we would have been in serious trouble.”
Chantal snorted and gently stuffed the dress back into its hiding place. “Please. It is so 80s. I think I got my princesses mixed up with my John Hughes movies. I wanted Cinderella’s dress mixed with Molly Ringwald’s dress in Pretty in Pink.”
“Well, at least, you can be comforted that your mission was accomplished. That’s the perfect way to describe the dress. Did you also create the purple one you wore last night?”
“Umm, yes. Yes, I did.”
Rush tugged at his own purple tie. He had definitely chosen the color as an ode to the gown that had made him fall in love at first sight with his mate. “What was your inspiration for that gown?”
Chantal bit down on her lip. “It’s silly.”
“I’m curious,” he insisted.
“You know the red dress in Pretty Woman? That was sort of loosely my inspiration.”
Rush chuckled. “I’m sensing a theme. Lots of romantic movies.”
“Probably because that’s how I spend most of my time. Watching old movies and creating clothes.”
“It is pretty great to have a passion and to be so talented in it.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She sat beside him, clearly uncomfortable by the sudden attention he was giving her. “How did you spend your time in high school?”
“I worked at some of our hotels as a bellhop, a cleaner, sometimes I ran the front desk. I also didn’t go to my prom.”
“I’m sure that caused a lot of broken hearts in your graduating class.”
“I think you’re overestimating my charm.”
“I think you’re underestimating it,” she shot back.
He smiled at her. “We’re both guilty of that.”
“If you say so—”
Feeling bold, he took her hand in his. “I do say so. Let me date you, Chantal Katz. We already know we have a good, strong, if not powerful, connection. I want to take you out on a proper date.”
Her teeth worked the skin of her lower lip. “I think I would like that very much.”
Rush’s entire body came alive with the realization that he would be able to date his mate. It was the greatest victory, especially after waking up without her in his bed. Rush leaned over and brushed his lips against hers. Slowly at first, but soon, she angled her body toward him. Her breasts crushed against his chest as his hands found her ass. It was then that he remembered she wasn’t wearing any pants. Just a pair of cotton underwear that would be featured in some of his dreams.
Chantal ‘Chacha’ Katz would feature in his fantasies, that was certain. But the reality of once again having her in his arms was all too wonderful. His cock strained against his slacks, begging to be released. His wolf was panting, desperate to feel more of her.
“Chantal,” he groaned between delicious kisses. Fuck, it felt so good to say her real name. “You’re driving me crazy in these.” He ran a hand against her ass before squeezing the lush globes.
“That can’t be right. Those are my granny panties.”
He growled low, nipping her bottom lip. “They most certainly are not. They’re alluring as hell.” He wanted to say more to sing the granny panties'