Page 74 of Take Me
“There’s lots of stuff to choose from,” Hazel says.“I brought plenty of variety this time.”
“Oooh, that one’s cool.”Erika drops to the floor at our feet, grabbing a pale turquoise dress off the stack on the coffee table.“I love the color.”
“It’s nice.”I can tell by the neckline it would showcase her cleavage like a dream.So would a dress made of trash bags.“Isn’t the color too close to what the bridesmaids are wearing?”
“Oh.”Erika blinks and puts down the dress.“I wouldn’t have even thought of that.”
Hazel sits on the sofa and crosses her legs.She shoots me a look that’s almost impressed.“You may have just redeemed yourself, beer boy.”
“Thank you.”I poke at a pile of skirts, nearly toppling it.“I accept donuts as compensation for my style expertise.”I catch Erika’s eye and wink.“Or blowjobs.”
As Erika blushes, Hazel rolls her eyes.“Way to ruin it.I thought for a second you might be a style-conscious, etiquette-savvy, metrosexual man.”
“Oh, I am.”I watch Erika paw through some jumpsuits and catch myself wondering how easy they’d be to peel off her body.“I can also bench press three-eighty.”
My cousin does not look impressed.“I heard through the grapevine you did the calligraphy for Jake and Cassidy’s reception place cards.”
“Must be a slow week for the grapevine if people are gossiping about my calligraphy skills.”It’s true, though, and I did a damn fine job with them.“What else is the grapevine buzzing about?”
Glancing at Erika, Hazel hesitates.“I don’t like to gossip?—”
“Please.”Erika scoffs and keeps digging through bags.“Deep down, we all like to gossip.”
“It’s kinda the official pastime of small towns,” I agree.“That and cow tipping.”
Erika grabs something shimmery and yellow off one pile.“Have you ever known anyone who’s gone cow tipping?”
“I don’t even know what cow tipping is,” I admit.“What’s the small-town, coastal equivalent?”
“Slinging big ropes of sea kelp like a lasso?”Erika sets aside the yellow thing and grabs a froth of sea-green silk.
“That’s the other bridesmaid color.”A bummer, since she’d look great in that shade.“Maybe sand sledding is the coastal equivalent of cow tipping?”
Forehead scrunching, Erika puts down the green thing.“You make a better girl than I do, Mace.Even if I knew the wedding colors, I would never have known it’s a faux pas to wear one as a guest.”
“It’s a gift,” I agree, my masculinity fully intact.Since it feels weird to stand with both women sitting, I drop to the floor beside Erika.“What about snacking on saltwater taffy?”
Hazel frowns.“What are you babbling about?”
“Still brainstorming the Oregon Coast equivalent of cow tipping.”
Erika snorts and paws through the next bag.“How about searching for glass floats on the beach?”
“That seems very specific.”Hazel refolds the green thing, then plucks something peachy orange from the bag.“Try this.It’s by one of my favorite designers, MaxMara.It’s made with cady fabric in persimmon with a draped, asymmetric bodice and wide-leg trousers that have double pleats on the side inset pockets.”
Erika looks confused.“Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“It’s a jumpsuit.Like a romper, but with pants.”I smile when Hazel looks shocked.“What?A hot, hetero male can’t know that?”
Erika holds up the silky fabric, draping it over her body.“I guess I could try it on.”
“Here, I’ve got matching shoes.”Hazel hands her a pair of Louboutins.“They go great with the outfit.”
“Ugh, heels.”She takes the shoes anyway, then gets up and starts for the bedroom.
“Wait.”I try grabbing her ankle, but I miss.“We’d really appreciate if you changed right here where we can watch.”
“Speak for yourself,” Hazel says as she digs through another big bag.“I’m perfectly fine giving the poor woman privacy.”
