Page 66 of Melt for You (Slow Burn 2)
I sit there for a minute, trying to figure out exactly what just happened, when I hear Cam’s low voice right outside the door.
“Lass.”
“Yeah?”
“Try the black one, too.”
I chew my fingernail. “Maybe we should just go—”
“Try the black one, too, woman!” he snaps. His footsteps stomp off.
“You’re not the boss of me,” I mutter, frowning at the door.
From the dressing room next to me comes a woman’s voice. “I’d sure let him be the boss of me, sister!”
I sigh and give up all hope of understanding anything. Then I change out of the red dress and into the black one and present myself for inspection once again.
One finger tapping a slow staccato rhythm against the arm of his chair, Cam takes his time perusing my figure. His eyes investigate every inch of me, every curve and bump and awkward bulge. It’s so embarrassing, I cover my face with my hands.
“Stop hidin’, lass. You’re not ten years old.”
“Ugh.”
“Look at me.”
I gather my courage and look at him, but I’m still squirming.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re making me self-conscious.”
“Why?”
“Because you look like you’re about to puke!”
He stares at me for a long time in cavernous, terrible silence, his eyes black, his brows drawn together, that spastic muscle in his jaw jumping around like crazy. “Lass.”
“What?”
“What you know about men wouldn’t fill a teaspoon.”
I cross my arms over my chest and stare right back at him, lifting my chin in a fake show of bravery. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales heavily, closing his eyes. He mutters, “For the love of all that’s holy, this woman.”
“Excuse me, sir, did you ask to see me?”
A smiling man in a suit stands to my right, looking expectantly at Cam. The saleslady hovers nervously a few feet behind him.
Cam rises to his feet. “Aye. Let’s talk over there.”
They walk away, and I run back into the dressing room, nearly breaking my ankle on the way as I stumble over an invisible imperfection in the carpet.
No, my brain helpfully reminds me, that’s just your big feet.
&nb
sp; Now I remember why I hate shopping.
