Alice says. “I could use a day of pampering.”
“Book it,” Ellie says. “And add nails, a facial, and a massage. On me, of course.”
“Ellie—”
“You follow us around the world and make amazing things like this ice cream. Trust me, it’s my pleasure.”
Alice grins. “Well, I won’t say no. Thank you.”
“I want more real food,” Natasha says as she stands and walks toward the kitchen. “I always eat too much when we get together, but I’ll just run an extra three miles tomorrow.”
“I don’t run unless something’s chasing me,” Monica says. “And even then, it’s a crapshoot.”
“Where did you get these pretty flowers?” Natasha calls from the kitchen. “They look like they came from Brooke’s.”
I take a drink and answer without thinking. “Callum brought them to me this afternoon.”
Three pairs of eyes turn to me, and Natasha pokes her head out of the kitchen to join them.
“What?”
“Callum brought them?” Monica asks. “He was here, in this house?”
“In the kitchen this afternoon,” I confirm. “He just brought flowers. And asked me to forgive him again. Nothing else.”
“I have to say it,” Monica says with a smug grin. “The prince likes you, Aspen Calhoun.”
“He felt guilty.” I set my ice cream bowl aside before I gain seventy pounds. “Besides, we’re not in the seventh grade.”
“No, he likes you,” Alice says, surprising me. Although I’ve only known her for a few short hours, I’ve learned that Alice is a woman of few words. Or maybe she’s just shy, and we’re new to her. “He definitely likes you.”
“I thought we changed the subject.”
“We did,” Ellie says. “And then we discovered the flowers.”
I shake my head and try to change the subject again. “What does one wear to a benefit?”
“A cocktail dress,” Natasha says. “A sexy-as-fuck, knock-him-on-his-ass cocktail dress.”
“That,” Monica says, pointing to Natasha. “You wear that.”
“I’d better get some more exercise this week and stop eating this ice cream,” I murmur. “Because I kind of want to knock him on his ass.”
“Attagirl,” Monica says again, making me laugh.
I scrunch up my nose and stare at my reflection in the dressing room mirror.
It’s been twelve hours since I told Ellie I’d go to the benefit with Callum, and I’m deeply regretting that decision.
“Come, show me,” Natasha says from the other side of the curtain at Dress It Up.
I step out, and her eyes narrow.
“Turn.”
I comply.
“Turn again.”
I roll my eyes but do as she asks.
“Next.”
“I’ve tried on five dresses, Tash. We’re running out of options in Cunningham Falls.”
“Try the purple one with the low back. You look amazing in jewel tones.”
“And then I’m done trying, and I’ll just choose one of these. It’s for one night. I’m not going to stress over it.”
I’m totally going to stress over it. But if I say I’m not, maybe it’ll come true.
I slip into the amethyst-colored dress and tilt my head to the side.
Not bad.
Probably the best one.
I walk out, and Natasha grins. “I hate that you look so damn good in the jewel tones. It’s the fabulous red hair. That’s gorgeous. Turn for me.”
I do, and she whistles.
“That’s a knock-him-on-his-ass dress,” she confirms. “Wrap it up. Do you have black heels?”
“Heels? Hell, no. I’m on my feet all day, and I haven’t dressed up since—”
Since my wedding day.
But I don’t say that out loud.
“In a really long time.”
“We’ll find you some. Man, your back looks amazing in that gown. I didn’t know you had a tramp stamp.”
I turn and struggle to see my back in the mirror.
“I don’t.”
“Ha, gotcha.”
I stick out my tongue at her and return to the dressing room to change into my jeans and T-shirt. After, Natasha and I walk to the counter to pay.
“This is a stunning dress,” Willa says with a smile. “And it’s gorgeous on you. Yeah, I peeked.”
“Thanks. I need shoes.”
“You’ve come to the right place, doll.”
Chapter 4
~Callum~
The lake is clear this morning. Calm. So still, in fact, I can see a perfect reflection of the trees and homes on the opposite side of the lake in the water. A lone soul kayaks across the smooth water, the only disruption in the glass-like lake. The smell of pine is heavy in the air.
It’s rare to be able to enjoy mornings like this. To not have the press camped outside, trying to snap a photo or get a word.
They’d drive a saint bloody insane.
And I’m no saint.
The longer I’m in Montana with its wide-open spaces and kind people, I understand why my siblings enjoy being here so much. It’s one of the few