Page 126 of Surprisingly Us

I settle on a deep teal backless dress, then help Rhys pick out a matching tie from the swatches Ingrid brings over from the men’s department.

“It’s like we’re going to prom,” I tease as Ingrid hangs my dress on the rack in the private dressing room.

“Who did you go to prom with?”

“We didn’t have prom at the ballet academy.”

“They figured no one would dance?” He cracks a wide smile.

“Funny. But no, it just wasn’t a thing. We were all too focused on spring performances and auditioning for the company.”

“What would you have done if you hadn’t made it into the company?”

“Probably teach. I’m loving the class I teach at Leg-Up.”

He nods, then drops his gaze to my feet.

“She needs shoes, too,” he tells Ingrid.

“I’ve got several pairs that would work perfectly with this dress,” she says.

When she’s gone to find these so-called perfect shoes, I pout. “I hate shopping for dress shoes. Everything hurts my feet.”

“You can’t go barefoot. It’s a wedding.”

“Yeah, well, when I get married, it’s going to be on the beach. Footwear optional.”

He looks at me pensively. “Do you think about that? What your wedding will be like?”

I laugh. “Not really. That’s the only thing I’ve got so far. Barefoot on the beach.”

“Sounds nice.” He reaches over to brush a piece of hair off my face.

It’s a sweet gesture, but the way his finger pads lightly graze my face has my thighs clenching and my heart thumping wildly in my chest.

“I’d invite you but it might be weird having my ex-fiancé there.” It’s a joke. Something to lighten the mood, but Rhys is having none of it.

“Fuck that.” He growls. “I’ll be there. Front row.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I quietly try on the shoes Ingrid brings and let the two of them debate over which ones look best. Ingrid doesn’t bat an eye at my battered feet.

“I’ve seen worse,” she says comfortingly.

I doubt that, but I’m not going to argue.

Rhys buys me a pair of Jimmy Choos. I insisted he not, but after those were the clear winner as far as comfort, he sneakily had Ingrid ring them up without me knowing. They cost morethan my dress, but Ingrid insisted the latte color was classic and I’d be wearing them for years to come. Not if I can help it.

After shopping, we grab an early dinner at a bistro near my apartment before Rhys insists we get a cupcake at Magnolia Bakery.

“I don’t know how you live down the street from this place.” He takes a huge bite of his salted chocolate peanut butter cupcake. I’d been surprised he didn’t go for the Nutella one, but he insisted he needed variety in his life.

“I’m not a big sweets person, but clearly you would be a frequent visitor.”

He moans around the cupcake, then licks frosting off his lips, which elicits another erotic sound.

I glance around. “Stop making that sound, you’ll scare the children.”

“What sound?” he asks, but I can tell he’s playing innocent.

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