Knocking Boots - Willow Winters Page 0,27
I’m going to have to face it. And the longer I wait, the more and more likely it will be that IVF is the only route left.
I frown as I drift to the rack across from me. I touch a bright red dress, almost scandalous with its low-cut neckline and daring side slit hem. I wish.
“Ooooh,” Diane exclaims from just behind me. “It’s perfect!”
“Oh… I don’t know. It’s not right for me, I think,” I say absently.
Diane shoots me a look. “It’s for me.” She grabs the dress just beside the one in my hand, a different size, and passes it to Tessa, who beams at us.
“Oh,” I say, shaking my head at myself. “Right.” It sure as hell isn’t for me at that price. Dress or baby? That’s all I keep thinking. That and where is the sale rack.
I take in a deep breath and smooth out the sweater I’m wearing. The simple black cotton feels rough compared to the red number. Only positive vibes, I remind myself. Just happy thoughts… something in here needs to be on sale. Or… I bet this place offers credit cards.
“I’ll get you a fitting room,” I overhear Tessa tell Diane.
“Uh huh,” Diane says, her attention elsewhere. “Oh, look at this.”
Resisting my urge to laugh at Diane’s giddiness, I move to another rack. Biting my bottom lip, I look up covertly and search for a clearance section, but there isn’t one. Taking a deep breath, I try to loosen up a bit.
A flash of blue catches my eye, a hue just a bit lighter than the color of the ocean. I flip through the dresses until I find it. It’s part of a slinky little silk number, classic and elegant.
My fingers grace the fabric of the dress and I smile at the way it slips between my fingertips. I think this shade would be perfect. I’ll match Charlie, but it won’t look like I’m trying too hard to fit into the wedding party since it’s all dark blues according to Charlie. It’s perfect, I think.
“Do you want to try that on?” Tessa says, startling me.
“Yes please,” I say, forcing a small smile as my heart settles. I haven’t even looked at the price tag.
I really should take a peek before trying it on. Sometimes I fall in love a little too easily. But Tessa is already whisking it off to the fitting rooms. I follow behind her, to the back of the store. My brows raise when I see that the fitting rooms are the same size as the rest of the store, with good lighting and a gorgeous tufted ottoman in the center of the room and bar in the corner. Wow… this place is fancy. Someone put some real thought into the layout of the store.
“Right through here,” Tessa says, gesturing to the stall and hangs my dress on the copper molded hook.
“Grace, are you in here?” Diane says, her voice reverberating off the stall walls.
“I’m right here,” I answer back all sing song like, putting my purse down in my own stall and locking the door while staying positive.
“Oh, good. Okay, I’m trying stuff on. You’ll tell me if it makes me look fat, right?”
“Of course,” I call out, grateful we’re the only two back here.
I know damn well Diane just wants her skinny ass complimented, she never looks fat in anything and I tell her as much. She only laughs in response.
I wriggle out of my sweater and shuck my skinny jeans. Unzipping the back of the dress, I glance at the tag but refuse to actually look at it before slipping the dress on over my boyshort panties and bra. I zip it up, reaching behind me and wiggling a little to get it all the way up.
My eyes travel the length of the mirror in the stall. Even barefoot, there is no doubt this dress looks amazing. I step closer, admiring the sweetheart construction. The dress is short sleeved and falls mid-thigh. It looks…
Damn. I’m afraid to really look at the price tag, because I have to get this dress. It’s flattering in all the right ways. Charlie’s never seen me in something like this. I can only imagine what he’d think.
I turn to the side, putting my hand on my stomach. My flat stomach. I imagine how it would look to be carrying a baby and watch my shoulders slump.
Shake it off, I warn myself. Shake off the negative thoughts!
It’s funny, I always thought that I