Page 72 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

And then there were my lips, painted the perfect shade of red. A red that made me feel powerful, confident, like I could walk into any room and turn heads.

But the dress—that was the real showstopper. It was deep navy, almost black, and hugged my curves in all the right ways.

The neckline was sweetheart cut, exposing just enough collarbone and décolletage to make me feel a little daring, a little bold. The fabric was soft, smooth against my skin, and when I moved, the skirt flared in a way that felt playful, elegant, like I belonged in a dance sequence from an old movie.

I turned slightly, the light catching the shimmer of the dress’s subtle embellishments.

It was classic and timeless, but with just the right amount ofwow.

I felt beautiful.

Not just pretty. Not just presentable.

Beautiful.

Lila stood behind me in the mirror, hands on her hips, grinning like she had just performed magic.

“Well?” she prompted.

I swallowed, my heart thudding. “I don’t even look like me.”

She met my eyes in the reflection, her expression softening. “Oh, but you do. Just the you that finally realizes how drop-dead stunning she is.”

I bit my lip, staring at myself. I did look stunning. It wasn’t just the makeup or the dress. It was something deeper.

I felt lovely. Strong.

Like I could handle whatever came next.

“Okay,” I said, meeting Lila’s eyes. “I guess to the theater it is.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Mason

The movie was playing.I knew that much.

Something black and white flickered across the screen, the sound of old-timey music and hushed dialogue filling the outdoor theater.

The crowd was settled into lawn chairs and picnic blankets, tucked under string lights that stretched across the grassy lot. It was the perfect night for a movie under the stars.

But I couldn’t watch it. I couldn’t take my damn eyes offher.

Aurora sat a few feet away, perched on a blanket next to Lila, looking like something straight out of a dream.

That dress—midnight blue, soft, silky—hugged her curves in a way that made my blood run hot.

The way it draped over her legs, teasing just enough skin through the slit.

Shit.

I had to clench my fists against my thighs to keep from reaching for her.

But it wasn’t just the dress. It was the way she carried herself tonight.

She looked confident. Stunning.

Like she finally saw herself the way we saw her.

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