Page 13 of Fake Dating the Silver Fox

He recognizes me, too, and gives a happy bark as he spots me.

Mara’s gaze travels over the crowd lined up at the train station and lands on me. Her eyes light up, and a smile curves her full lips.

The urge to stride toward her, take her face in my hands, and kiss that smiling mouth nearly overwhelms me.

I walk halfway to meet her, narrowly resisting the urge. As soon as we are face to face, Mara bursts out laughing.

“You’re wearing a tuxedo!”

I glance down at my black suit. “It’s just a suit.”

“It’s cute.” She cocks her head at me. “But this is not that kind of fundraiser. There will be dogs, fur, and more than a little chaos.”

I reach up and tug my bow tie. “In my defense, I wasn’t exactly given a dress code."

She checks her watch. “We’re going shopping.”

The nearby strip of stores has few options. We end up in a consignment store filled with vintage clothes.

“Is it okay to bring a dog in here?” I ask as she drags me by the hand toward a rack of men’s jeans.

“Who’s gonna know?” She taps Cupid on the head, and he obligingly disappears into her bag.

Mara pursues the racks as if we’ve got all day, taking her time selecting shirts and assessing them against my skin tone.

She finally decides on a forest green light-weight sweater and a pair of jeans that look like they’ve been through the wash a million times.

“This color will look amazing on you.” She ushers me toward the changing room, snagging a pair of work boots on the way. “Trust me.”

I have a feeling trusting Mara could get me into a lot of trouble, but I dutifully change into the outfit she selected, right down to the scuffed leather shoes. Looking at myself in the mirror, I’m not sure I can leave the dressing room. The jeans fit snuggly, leaving little to the imagination.

After a quick turn to check out my butt, I know I’m not going anywhere in jeans this tight.

“You doing okay in there?” Mara’s voice sounds from the other side of the door.

“I don’t think this is going to work.”

“Can you come out so I can see?”

“I’d rather not.”

Her voice sounds close to the door. “Come on out, Graham. I’m sure you look amazing.”

The coaxing quality to her voice gives me enough confidence to open the door. “I think these jeans are a little too tight.”

Her brow furrows. “Do you need another size?” Then, her gaze drops down to my lower half, and her jaw drops. She takes her time lifting her gaze back to my face. A grin takes the place of her frown. “I think those are perfect.”

I try to put my hands in my front pockets, but there’s no room. “They’re pretty tight.”

Her brow quirks. “Like I said.Perfect.” She makes a circle in the air with her finger. “Let’s see the back.”

I step out of the dressing room and walk to the full-length mirror, giving her my back. The image in front of me is startling.

The flared jeans, the V-neck sweater, the scuffed square-toed boots look like they came off a wardrobe truck from the movie Dazed and Confused.

“Wow.” This is from the salesperson, who happens to be walking by. “You look smokin’.”

In the mirror, I see Mara cock her head to the side, studying me. “It’s missing something.”

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