want to take up too much of your time, but I admit I’m at a total loss here. What would you like to wear, if you were being surprised tonight?”
“Well,” I reach for the cocktail dress he holds, “does she have a preference?”
“A preference?”
“You know like loose fitting clothes or ones that hug her body? Does she like short dresses or longer flowing skirts?”
“Definitely tight.” The way his cheeks pink up is cute. “She’s got an amazing figure and likes to show it off.”
“Are you specifically looking for black, or will any color do?”
“I just figured little black dress, but honestly, red is my favorite.” His gaze dips down to my red dress and lingers on my cleavage for a beat too long. Suddenly, his attention shifts back up to my eyes. “Sorry, but you are very much like her. I didn’t mean to stare. The red looks pretty on you.”
“Um, thank you.” It’s cute how polite he’s trying to be. “What’s her complexion?”
“Don’t think this weird, but she’s blond like you, fair skin with the faintest golden glow, almost the same coloring as you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and you’re about the same height.” His attention shifts to the top of my head as he mentally measures my height. Then it shifts to my body. This time, he doesn’t apologize for checking me out. “Not sure, but probably the same size.”
“So, red or black?”
“I think red.” He gives a shake of his head.
“That dress is strapless. Is that what you’re looking for, or does it matter?”
“Whatever is most comfortable.” He’s cute, like he’s trying to be cool. I’m a good bit younger than him. He’s at least late forties, maybe early fifties, but fit. The man has not let himself go. He’s nothing like my Griff, but his girlfriend certainly has nothing to complain about.
“I’d go with something like this.” I pull two red dresses off the display and hold them up. One is a form-fitting sheath dress, with off-the-shoulder sleeves. The other one is similar to what I wear; flowing skirt with capped sleeves, but it glitters with a sequined bodice.
When his brows pinch, confused, I hold the first dress up to my body to help him have an idea what it might look like on his girl. When his eyes shift to the dress matching closest to what I have on, I hold that one in front of myself.
“That one.” He picks the sleeveless sheath dress.
“You sure of her size?”
“Fairly certain.” He takes the dress from me, then gives a little bow. It’s awkward, but cute. “Thank you so much for helping me out. I really am hopeless with this kind of thing.”
“Fingers crossed it fits.” I hold up my crossed fingers.
“I think it’s going to be lovely.” His gaze lingers on me a beat too long, but he pulls away before it gets too uncomfortable.
I move off, still absently searching for dresses. A glance toward the door tells me what I already know. Griff watched the entire exchange, his body locking tight, ready to swoop in and save the day.
Nothing here draws my eye, and I head to the front door. “Come on, I’m hungry.”
Griff’s gaze locks hard on the man I helped. He stands by the register, paying for his purchase.
“Come on. I was just helping the poor guy out. He looked so lost.”
“He can get lost someplace else.”
“Well, I’m ready to get lost and find somewhere to grab lunch. Surely we can do that.”
“Protocol.”
“Eating lunch with my bodyguard seems like it comes with the territory. We don’t have to act all chummy. You keep your hands to yourself, and I’ll keep mine to myself.”
Griff flashes a cheeky grin. “I’ve got a better idea.”
“What?”
“How about room service? Then neither of us has to keep our hands to ourselves.”
“Hmm…” I twist back and forth, watching the fabric of my skirt swish just above my knees. I know what I’m doing. Each time the skirt lifts up, Griff gets a glimpse of my thighs, and he knows exactly what I’m wearing beneath this dress.
“Come on.”
“Snapping orders? I thought you worked for me today, Mr. Bodyguard.”
“Damn straight I’m snapping orders. Get your ass in gear, little minx; we have a lunch date.”
“We do?”
“Yes, and the first thing I’m feasting on is you.” Griff closes in on me. “My bed. Now.” His command sends a lick of heat shooting down my spine.
Thirty-Two
Moira
I practically double-step it back to the hotel. We pass Knox, Liam, and Axel in the hotel lobby, but don’t stop. We’re