Torrid Little Affair (Forbidden Desires #3)

Corinne

By the time three o’clock rolled around on Saturday afternoon, I’d already tried on-and discarded-roughly eight dresses, seven skirts, and one ill-conceived romper that made me look like a plump toddler, only with big boobs.

Panic was setting in when there was a knock on the door. I answered it, my button-down shirt only half tucked into my poodle pajama bottoms while curlers pulled at my roots and made my eyes water.

“Hello?” I said without thinking, only to find the postal worker standing at my door, her nose wrinkled as she looked up at me.

“Package,” she said.

“Who for?” I asked. “I didn’t order anything.”

“Listen, lady, I just drop stuff off.” She thrust four boxes toward me, and I took them all before she unceremoniously bustled away.

Closing the door, I glanced down to find that all the boxes were addressed to me, and I carried them into my bedroom with no small amount of anticipation.

Quickly, I peeled away the tape on the first box and found a steely blue-gray pearl necklace inside with a matching bracelet and earrings.

“Beautiful,” I murmured to myself as I slid on the bracelet, tossing aside the box to open the next. This one contained matching strappy heels. Next came a box with only a black bustier inside, but no matching panties. The last box contained a dress.

But it wasn’t just a dress, not really. It was the dress. I winced, one eye closed, before I glanced at the size, only to find that it was exactly right.

The dress was black and gun-metal gray, perfect to set off my new pearls and shoes, and I hugged it close to me as a rush of emotion washed over me. It was like Cooper had sensed my panic from all the way across the city and had come to my rescue. Again.

If only things could have been different . . . another time, another place.

Nope. Not going there. I had a free pass tonight. A guilt-free “not really a date” with Cooper, and I wasn’t about to ruin it with self-pity.

And judging by the expression on the mail lady’s face, I had a whole lot of work to do before I put that dress on.

Rushing around the apartment, I gave Aaron his medication and fed him an early dinner before shaving my legs and putting on some hasty makeup. My heated curlers were finally beginning to cool, and when I pulled them from my hair, I heard the chime of the doorbell again.

Frantic, I glanced at the clock. It was already almost five thirty. It must be Cooper, and though he was early, it wasn’t by much.

“Shoot,” I muttered, pulling on my thigh-high stockings before running into the hall and sliding as I tried to stop.

“Aaron, will you go in your room for a little while?” I asked, though I didn’t wait for a response as I wheeled him down the hall at top speed wearing nothing but my bustier, slip, and stockings. Half my head was still in curlers, and I winced as the doorbell rang again and I snapped Aaron’s door closed.

What was Cooper thinking? I’d never let him inside before. I’d never even let him get as far as the front door. But the doorbell chimed again, and seeing no other option, I ran to the front of the apartment and flung the door open.

“Hey,” I said, practically panting. “I’m running a little behind.”

Cooper grinned, his gaze trailing over me, leaving a path of heat in its wake. “I can see that. Mind if I come in?”

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“No, of course not. I’ll just, um, be a minute.” I unrolled curlers as I spoke, and when he nodded, I rushed to my bedroom and yanked the dress over my head, ripping curlers from my hair at a pace that made my eyes well up with tears.

“Fight through the pain,” I told myself, gritting my teeth as I brushed the curls into waves and double-checked my makeup before spraying on perfume. Finally, I slipped on the rest of the jewelry and my heels and clicked toward the door, flinging it open to find Aaron on the other side, smack dab in the middle of the hallway.

My eyes widened and I glanced from him to Cooper, who still looked unconcerned as he waited near the front door.

Anticipating his question, I said to Aaron, “Leftovers in the fridge. I’m going out, but I’ll be back later.”

He nodded and then rolled down the hall to the kitchen, not bothering to look twice at Cooper.

I took a deep breath, turning on my heel and preparing to see the inevitable pity or confusion in Cooper’s eyes. I didn’t want to face that, didn’t want to answer his questions and explain everything that had happened to make Aaron the way he was.

Didn’t want to have to tell him what Aaron meant to me.

But looking at Cooper, I wasn’t sure I would have to. There was interest in his eyes, to be sure, but also grim acceptance.

He simply looked at me and said, “You look incredible. Are you ready to go?”

Swallowing hard, I nodded and allowed him to lead me out and toward the car. When I was safely stowed in the passenger’s seat, I stared out at the evening sky.

“Looks like it’s going to rain,” I said, desperate to find something, anything that I could focus on other than Cooper’s inevitable curiosity.

“It does. I should have sent you a coat too.”

I turned and offered him a trembling smile, the fear of what was to come on hold at the reminder of his sweet gesture. “You did more than enough. Thank you, by the way. You saved my life.”

“I’m not sure it was all that heroic.” Cooper grinned. “But if you’re willing to give me that much credit, I’ll take it.”

He started the car and drove onto the street as I watched him from the corner of my eye. The question was on the tip of his tongue. It had to be. It was such a normal, everyday sort of thing to ask.

But he didn’t ask it. He didn’t ask anything at all. He only drove, the soft sounds of indie music playing on the radio as we went.

For a moment, I considered bringing it up, clearing the air to save myself from the inevitable questions he would ask. But I wasn’t ready, not yet. And I think Cooper knew it too.