Page 57 of Unromance

Sawyer straightened like she’d been struck by lightning, lust pooling in her gut. He was so—Fuck. Cocky Mason was something. She wanted to crawl on top of him, to straddle him until that smirk slid from his face. Before she could do any of that, Celia reappeared.

“Anything catch your eye?” she asked brightly.

“Oh, um—” Sawyer dragged her attention from Mason as he took a sip of champagne, licking his lips afterward. Slowly, like he knew the deep dive into Horny Town her thoughts had taken. “I’m not sure. What are you wearing?” she asked Mason.

The corners of Mason’s mouth turned down as he considered. “Black? But I also have navy, gray, maroon. Whichever.”

“Men have it so easy,” Celia whispered conspiratorially, and Sawyer couldn’t help but warm to her. Celia stepped back, assessing gaze bouncing between the two of them, her attention landing on Sawyer’s red lipstick. “Mason, you’ll wear the maroon suit, it will complement her best. We’ll work backward from there.”

Mason nodded curtly at the order, biting down on his lip to keep from laughing. Yeah, Sawyer liked this lady. She followed Celia back over to the rack, forcing the words out before her nerves could swallow them. “What do you think would look best with—” She gestured to her full chest and hips.

Celia studied her for a moment, but when she met Sawyer’s gaze, her eyes were fierce. “Oh, honey—everything.”

Sawyer was too surprised to respond. As much as Sawyer loved her body—she was kinda stuck with it her whole life, so she figured “might as well”—the self-loathing always kicked in when she had to dress it, and things never fit quite right. She knew from shopping with Lily that it wasn’t any easier on the tall and willowy end of the spectrum, but that knowledge didn’t make it any less of a buzzkill to try something on and have it distort your mental image of yourself like a fun house mirror.

Celia seemed to sense that Sawyer was out of her depth, snapping into action and marching over to a rack across the room and grabbing a flowy navy number, a ruby sheath, a millennial-pink cloud of tulle, and a few other dresses. Sawyer had no idea how she kept track, but she knew the woman had very specific things in mind by the way she approached the rack and had a dress in her hands with minimal perusal. Celia doubled back to grab one last dress before gesturing for Sawyer to follow.

She knew the navy was a no before Celia even finished clipping her into it, but Sawyer allowed Celia to lead her out onto the pedestal in front of the three mirrors. It was worth it simply for Mason’s reaction. He ran a hand over his face to compose himself as Celia situated the skirt and slight train. Sawyer simply smirked at him as his gaze met hers in the mirror. The sheer fabric crisscrossed over her chest,leaving asymmetrical gaps beneath her breasts, along her rib cage, her lower back. It was beautiful, but far more skin than Sawyer was used to showing, especially to a roomful of strangers.

Correctly gauging her expression, Celia nodded curtly. “We can do better.”

Sawyer was going to leave this woman the most glowing review online.

The pink tulle explosion was next, and while Sawyer was surprised at how much fun the skirt was, it was simply too much dress. Mason was a fan of that one as well, but she had a feeling it was simply for the fact that the corset top made her tits look amazing. She gave him a little shimmy when Celia’s back was turned, and he feigned passing out on the couch. The ruby dress was a masterpiece of lace and leather accents with a slit so high she thought Mason was going to cry when she said it wasn’t the dress.

When she passed on the next two, she expected Celia to grow frustrated with her, but the woman simply smiled and asked her what she had liked and disliked about each dress. She told her clumsily, trying to remember what little she knew about dress styles, and Celia nodded along.

“Sexy is fine, but—conservative sexy, I guess. Is that a thing?”

Celia tittered out a laugh. “Yes. I love an old-fashioned gal.”

Sawyer waited until Celia disappeared out of the changing room to laugh. The only thing old-fashioned about Sawyer was that she liked to drink an old-fashioned. She was ready to be done with this outing so she could drag Mason back to her apartment and put on an entirely different type of fashion show, where the silk and lace garments were much, much smaller. Sawyer bit back a moan at the idea of flouncing around in lingerie while Mason manspread all overher couch. She hoped the lust wasn’t apparent on her face when Celia reappeared a moment later.

Sawyer’s eyes widened at the flimsy thing in her arms and wondered if the woman had been listening to her at all, but agreed to try it on. As Celia zipped her up, she sighed.

“You’re a magician,” Sawyer breathed.

Celia smiled from over her shoulder. “I don’t think we should show him, do you? Keep it a surprise.”

Sawyer nodded in agreement, and Celia helped her out of the dress before taking down her measurements and her address, promising to courier over the dress once they had made a few alterations.

Mason’s eyes widened in surprise when she stepped back out in her jeans and baggy sweater. “Nothing?” he asked, looking crestfallen—not with her, but like he’d failed her.

Sawyer shook her head. “No, we found it. You’ll see it on New Year’s.”

A smirk spread slowly across his face. He pushed up off the couch, standing so close she had to tilt her head all the way back to look at him. His hand cupped the back of her neck, thumb stroking up and down over her wildly thrumming pulse point. “Tease,” he breathed.

“You like it,” she shot back.

“I do.”

His breath coasted across her brow, and she shivered at the low timbre of his voice, the promise it held. She was infinitely grateful that her Christmas gift hadn’t ruined anything between them. She was going to take Rule #2 off the table so smoothly, it would be like a waiter yanking off the tablecloth but the place settings remained undisturbed.

Mason’s gaze lingered on her mouth and she smirked. Rule #2’sdays were numbered. He placed a quick kiss against her brow before following Celia, who watched them fondly, and Sawyer felt strangely guilty, like they were lying to her.

Sawyer hovered awkwardly behind him while he paid, still feeling a little uneasy about it, but it was his event, and normal people didn’t have gowns sitting around forwork parties. She tried to push the discomfort aside. Clearly, he had no qualms about it, and if she got her way, soon, clothes would be an unnecessary thing between them.

That thought buoyed her instantly, grinning eagerly when Mason turned, gesturing for her to follow him out.

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