Page 29 of A Hunter Turned
Five-thirty?! Already? “Not all of us are wash-and-go gorgeous like you. I need time to do my hair, my make-up…” Jamie broke off with a flurry of agitated movement. “And my wardrobe is almost entirely made up of cotton T-shirts, jeans, or leather.”
Morgan wiggled her eyebrows. “I think Archer might like leather.”
Jamie shot her boss a glare, too frantic in her worry to be amused. “You’re not helping.”
“As it turns out, I might just have something you can wear.”
Jamie eyed Morgan dubiously. “Please do not tell me you kept that dress from Rodolfo.”
When they’d first arrived in New Orleans, Olivier Rodolfo had thrown a cocktail party in their honor, had even provided the clothing, which Jamie had found creepy as hell. She had no idea what had happened to the blue dress the Born had given her to wear, but she liked to think it was one of the items that went up in flames when Travis had let his beast loose. “I don’t want anything that man had a hand in picking out anywhere near me.”
Morgan sat up with a shudder of distaste. “Hell no. That dress is long gone.” Standing, Morgan strode into her and Travis’s bedroom, her voice still reaching Jamie as she said, “I bought this on a whim the last time Travis and I took a break and went walking in the city. It’s cute. I think you’ll like it.”
“You do realize I’m like three inches taller than you and at least a cup size smaller, right?”
“It’ll be fine. It’s not like tailored or anything.”
Jamie snorted with amusement, “So it’s like a one-size-fits-all potato sack?”
A bark of laughter from Morgan before she emerged with a garment bag slung over her arm. “Oh, ye of little faith,” she murmured, unzipping the bag.
The sundresswascute, the deep green fabric draping in graceful layers from the V of the bustline and the cutouts at the shoulders. It was something Jamie may have even paused to gaze at wistfully in a store before turning her back with the mental admonishment that she had no place to wear such a dress so why bother.
Pushing it into her arms, Morgan told her, “Go. Try it on. If it doesn’t fit, we can always make a quick run into the city.”
Though Morgan most likely filled out the bust a lot better than Jamie, the dress still looked good on her and she couldn’t help but smile at her reflection and twist in front of the mirror. Until she noticed her bare toes and her smile morphed into a grimace. She may be able to pull off borrowing Morgan’s dress, but there was no way she could borrow any shoes from the other woman.
“Ooh, nice necklace. Where’d you get that?” Morgan asked from the doorway.
Touching the sun and moon pendant, that may or may not contain magic, Jamie decided to go with the short version of the story and simply said, “A friend of Archer’s gave it to me.”
“Very pretty. I like it. Looks good with the dress too.”
“We still have a problem,” Jamie uttered. “I have combat boots, biker boots, sneakers, or slippers. None of which will look good with this dress.”
It was Morgan’s turn to frown as she stared at Jamie’s feet before her eyes lit up and the other woman strode for the door. “Give me ten minutes while you do whatever else you need to do. Leave the shoes to me.”
Shrugging, Jamie slipped off the dress and headed for the shower. Twenty minutes later, she emerged with the dress back on, her hair still damp, but combed free of tangles and left long, to find Morgan waiting with an assortment of sandals and heels, all of them a relative match to the dress she was wearing.
Eyeing the line-up with surprise, Jamie asked, “Where did you get those?”
“I asked a few of the pack females. The one that has a crush on Kane was especially helpful and happens to be your size.” And then with a grin of excitement that rivaled Jamie’s own, Morgan ordered, “Now sit down so I can do your hair and make-up.”
∞∞∞
Archer was nervous. He hadn’t been out on a date since he’d courted Kelsey ages ago and he hoped he didn’t screw this up. He was sweating like crazy in the dark gray wool suit he’d donned to appease his daughter. His head also felt far too light since he’d let a barber go to town on him this afternoon, also to appease Cady.The things he did for that girl…he thought with a fond shake of his head. He just hoped Jamie would approve and wouldn’t make that appalled face she sometimes got when something took her by surprise. The expression was cute as hell, but murder on the ego when it was directed straight at you.
His palms sweating, he switched the bouquet he was holding to his other hand as he stepped up to do the door to knock. The dozen red roses were one of two bouquets he’d purchased. This one for Jamie, but he’d also picked up a smaller bouquet of pink roses for Cady. His daughter had squealed in delight when she’d seen them and insisted on bringing them with her to Marceline’s house despite his warning that she’d need to put them in water.
Oh, well. If the flowers wilted, they wilted. At least they made his daughter smile, hug him, and say, “I love you, Daddy,” in that way that made his heart dissolve into a puddle of goo.
Rocking back on his heels in the dress shoes that pinched and rubbed no matter how broken in they got, Archer cleared his throat and resisted the urge to tug at his collar as he waited, recalling the advice his daughter, in all her four years of wisdom, had given him.
“Tell her she looks pretty, and that she smells good,” Cady had said, little hands on hips and a serious expression on her face. “Girls like that. But also tell her she’s smart and funny. Looks aren’t everything,” her face screwed up in frustration, “But don’tsaythat looks aren’t everything or she’ll think you think she’s ugly.”
The memory brought a smile to his face and the expression was still in place when the door opened. Unfortunately, it wasn’t Jamie who greeted him, but Jamie’s teammate, Morgan who gave him a once over with piercing blue eyes, a sly grin, and a murmured, “Well, look at you. Impressive,” before she moved past him with a raised hand and a hollered, “Have fun, kids.”
Then, he spied Jamie, and every bit of advice and good intentions flew out of his head as his mouth went dry. That dress, the way the fabric draped down her arms leaving cutouts in the shoulders, served to highlight that bare skin and left him with nothing but thoughts of kissing that exposed flesh, nibbling his way to her neck, biting…
