Page 8 of Bombshell (Whiskey Dolls 1)

“Ugh! I hate this.” Standing in my bathroom, I shimmied this way and that, trying to get the dress up over my ass. Finally, I got the stupid thing in place and turned to look in mirror. “Ihate this!” I repeated on a pathetic cry. “I look like I just stuffed myself into a sausage casing!”

“Will you stop being so damn dramatic?” my sister’s voice rang out from the other side of the door. “I swear to God, you’re acting worse than Erika.”

“I’m not being dramatic!” I shouted. “When I asked you to bring me a few dress options, I didn’t think you’d raid my niece’s closet. This thing is indecent!”

“Stop being a baby and come out already. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

With a disgruntled huff, I flung the bathroom door open and stomped out. Tali was stretched out on my bed, lying on her stomach and flipping through one of the romance novels I kept stacked on my bedside table. She lifted her gaze off the page, her eyes growing so wide I thought they’d fall right out of her skull as soon as they landed on me.

Her stifled laugh came out as a loud snort just before she curled her lips between her teeth.

“I toldyou it was bad,” I decreed, throwing my arms wide.

“I stand corrected.” Then the cow burst into laughter.

“All right, it’s notthatfunny,” I grumbled.

“Oh my God,” she laughed hysterically. “You look like a tin of biscuits that’s just been popped open.”

I pinched the material at my belly, trying to pull it away from my body, only to have it suction to my skin like a freaking wetsuit. “What the hell is this made of?”

“Lycra, I think.”

I wrinkled my nose. “When did you ever fit into something this small, Tal? 1993?”

My big sister scrunched her lips to the side in thought. “I’m pretty sure I bought that dress when I was pregnant with Erika. It was supposed to be inspiration to get back to my pre-baby body. That was back when the emaciated runway model look was all the rage.”

Slamming my hands down on my hips, I shot her a killing look. “You stopped being small enough to wear something like this as soon as you hit puberty.” We both favored our mom’s genes, meaning we’d developed curves all the way back in middle school.

She shrugged, slapping the book closed and pushing up to sitting. “I had pregnancy brain when I bought it. I wasn’t thinking rationally back then. You remember what I was like.”

“Yes, I remember,” I replied flatly. “Weallremember. You broke down crying in the middle of the ice cream shop when your cone started to melt.”

“Hey! I wasn’t crying because it was melting. I was crying because they’d run out of toffee crunch. I had to get caramel swirl instead and it didnottaste the same. No matter what that stupid kid behind the counter claimed,” she finished on a grumble.

“You’re ridiculous. You know that, right?”

“Meh.” She shrugged like it was no big deal before narrowing her eyes and tilting her head to the side in concentration. “You know what? Now that I’m thinking about it, there’s a strong possibility I might have gotten that dress from the junior section.”

“Argh!” I began clawing at the material around my ribs, feeling like I was slowly being squeezed to death by an anaconda. “Just help me get this thing off. I’m starting to lose feeling in my fingers and toes.”

It took the two of us, an act of God, and a pair of scissors, but five minutes later, I was free and filling my lungs with some much-needed oxygen.

“Thank you,” I breathed, shaking out my arms so blood would start flowing back to them. “You didn’t happen to bring anygrownupclothes, did you?”

She hummed pensively and started flipping through hangers, assessing and discarding dresses before she finally held one up with a triumphant, “Aha! Here. Try this on. I think it’ll work.”

I slipped the spaghetti straps off the hanger and pulled the dress on. The silk was the color of red clay, the neckline dipping into a V that showed a hint of cleavage, but not so much that I’d be uncomfortable. The bodice was loose, cinching high on my waist with a faux knot, and the wrap skirt hit just below my knees, with a split in front that made it flow as I walked, giving a nice peek at my legs.

The zipper in the back went up without any trouble, and the best part, I could actually breathe in this one.

“Why the hell didn’t you just start with this one?” I chastised as I moved back to my bathroom so I could get a better look. I had to admit, I kind of loved the dress. It fit perfectly, was demure but still sexy, and the color looked great with my lightly tanned skin and long blonde hair. Plus, it made my light brown eyes pop. Tali didn’t know it yet, but I wasn’t giving it back. The dress was mine forever and ever.

“I just grabbed a bunch of stuff out of my closet when you called. I didn’t even know what all I brought,” she called back.

I gave my hair one last fluff, combing my fingers through the beachy curls, before flipping off the bathroom light and stepping back out into my room to find Tali on her knees with her top half buried deep in my closet.

“What are you doing?”

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