Page 47 of One Good Puck
I head to the hallway bathroom and do a quick change. Ilook at my reflection in the mirror, pleasantly surprised at how well it still fits, except in the chest area. I’m practically spilling out of it.
When I walk back out into the living room, I hold my hands over my chest. “Just wait till you see how low-cut this dress is. And how it barely covers my butt.” I shake my head at myself. “How did I ever have the confidence to pull this off?”
When I pull away my hands, Dakota gasps.
“You’re on the verge of a nip slip,” Sophie says.
I giggle. “Told you.”
“You look hot,” Dakota says.
“Oh, definitely,” Sophie says. “You could absolutely pull off wearing that dress now if you wanted.”
I smile at my sweet and supportive friends. They’re probably just being nice. “This is the dress a hot twenty-something wears. Not a thirty-two-year-old mom.”
Dakota tilts her head at me. “Hotness has no age limits. You’re a hottie, Abby, and you are rocking that dress right now.”
Sophie nods. “No question.”
I’m heading toward the bathroom so I can change back into my normal clothes when the front door swings open, almost hitting me as I walk by.
I step out of the way and bump right into Gavin’s chest as he steps inside.
He drops his suitcase and grabs my waist, steadying me.
“Whoa…” he murmurs as he looks at me. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I let out a breathy chuckle.
His gaze floats from my face down my neck, landing at my chest. His blue eyes are wide. A second later, they glaze over.
He clears his throat. “You look…nice.”
Behind me, Dakota and Sophie chuckle.
“Real smooth, Dad.”
I bite back a smile, feeling a boost of confidence. Because judging from the way Gavin is looking at me, I guess I do look hot.
Chapter 19
Gavin
Itry to pull my gaze away from Abby’s tits and let go of her waist. I really do.
But it’s impossible. Because she looks fucking dynamite in this dress.
Holy shit.
Bumping into Abby and getting an eyeful of her perfect breasts wasn’t how I expected this evening would go…but here we are, doing exactly that.
I bet I look like one of those cartoon characters with their eyes popping out of their sockets.
After a long second, I force myself to tear my eyes away from her chest and look back up at her face.
I offer what I hope is an easy smile. “We can’t keep running into each other like this.”
She chuckles, her cheeks flushed, and steps out of my hold.
