Her little smirk indicated she liked torturing me.
My balls were sweating by the time she sauntered past me to drape the shirt over the clothes rack.
Then she bent over after she’d shimmied the pants down her legs and reached for the sweater Q had mentioned.
That ass—that goddamn smackable, bitable, perfect ass was right fucking there, just twitching for a sharp nip of my teeth.
Lund. Get your shit together.
My thoughts scrolled back to her text from last week, when I’d jokingly called her a pain in my ass and she’d retaliated by threatening to send me a pic of the real pain in her ass, which was a bruise the size of an orange.
Maybe if I squinted, I could see the mark on her skin through the nylons and those black lace panties. I could offer to kiss it and make it better.
Then Gabi was nearly nose to nose with me. “Were you really eyeballing my butt, Lund?”
“You were shaking it in my face,” I said smoothly. “Where else was I supposed to look?” I gave her a tiny head-butt and whispered, “Besides, you started it, Miss Striptease.”
“Fine. I’ll behave if you will.”
Not a chance, sweetheart.
“That ship has officially sailed for us.” My eyes searched hers. “Or am I wrong?”
“No. But I’m not having this convo with you when I’m half-naked.” Gabi snagged the pants from Q and she had to hop to get them up over her muscular thighs.
Hopping caused her breasts to bounce beautifully, sexily—even when she wasn’t trying to be sexy.
Well, at least you aren’t staring at her ass anymore.
Not that I could point that out as a victory.
She slipped the sweater on and my focus returned to styling her.
“Nope. I don’t like that, too bulky. Can’t see her shape at all. If we paired the windowpane shirt with that longer open-cut shearling vest and those pants, still keeping with the half-tuck style on the shirt, she’d throw off a professional-chic boho vibe.”
“Marvelous idea, Nolan.”
Gabi huffed.
I withheld a snicker. She had stuck to the parameters by not commenting on the outfit when it was obvious—maybe only to me—she didn’t want to try it on.
But she did put it on without complaint.
And she looked freakin’ fantastic.
I knew it, she knew it. She said, “This goes in the yes pile for sure. Can I take this off now?”
“Yes,” Q said to her. “This one next. I need to see it on before we can discuss shoe and accessories options.” He leaned in and whispered to her.
A long sigh. “I’ll get dressed in there and take the shoes in with me. If you don’t like the pair I choose, I’ll switch.”
“Fair enough.”
She plucked up two boxes of shoes and stuck her tongue out at me before she disappeared.
Normally Q and I chatted during our appointments, but it seemed we both had other things on our minds.
The instant Gabi rounded the corner, before she said a single word, I knew.
“This outfit,” she nearly shouted to the rafters. “This is it. From the moment I tried it on I felt confident. Like me . . . a better-dressed me, to be sure, but it doesn’t feel as if I’m playing a role.”
Q had kept the ensemble he’d chosen a surprise. An olive-green pantsuit, sleeveless, cut fairly low, ruched at the waist with a wide belt. The style of the trouser section of the pantsuit wasn’t cut slim or wide, but a flowing cut, somewhere in between. A silky gold camisole beneath the top gave a sensuous movement to her breasts, so I knew she wasn’t wearing a bra. She carried a brown leather bomber-style jacket, but even without Gabi wearing it I could tell it was a fitted cut. On her feet were suede brown fringed booties that matched the belt.
“Gabi. Darling. That is perfect. Perfect,” Q declared. “I’ve got just the purse for that and we’ll do understated gold-toned accessories.”
“Okay.” She gave Q an unsure glance. “You are writing all of this down for me, right? Which pieces go together? Because I’ll get this stuff home and I won’t remember.”
“Of course.”
“What’s left to try on?”
Q cocked his head as if he didn’t understand. Then he did the Vanna White sweeping gesture with, “All of this.”
The look on her face . . . I knew we’d lost her. Personally, I’d stick it out until I’d exhausted all options, but Gabi wasn’t like me.