“Yeah?” I said, waiting for him to tell me what he thought.
“This is crazy.”
“I know,” I said, looking down, wishing I could hide my red face. Ugh, I’d really missed the mark on this one. Totally and completely.
“Hey,” he said, stepping around one of the dress forms and coming to stand in front of me. I wouldn’t look up, so he put his hand under my chin and tilted my face up.
“I’m sorry. I can, um, undo it all,” I said. I could rip the stitches out and reuse the fabric and . . .
“Hey,” he said, his voice softer as he looked down into my eyes. I couldn’t help but notice that I’d exactly matched one of the shirts to the color of his irises. Accidentally on purpose.
“Yeah?”
“It’s amazing, Sloane. Crazy amazing. I just . . . I can’t even imagine how much this costs, let alone the time it took you to make everything. No one but my mother has ever done anything like this for me.” He was totally serious. No jokes. No innuendos.
“Really?”
“Really. I can’t even believe this,” he said, finally letting go of my face and stepping back. “I don’t even think I can wear them. I’d be too afraid to get something on them.”
“That’s okay. There’s this fantastic thing called a washing machine and it takes the stains out of clothes,” I said, and he stuck his tongue out at me. Being the more rebellious of the three brothers, I expected him to be the one with the pierced tongue. But alas. Still, there were a lot of things he could still do with it.
I had to shake myself and get back to the clothes and get my mind out of the gutter.
“Ha-ha. I know how to wash clothes, but I’m still scared I’m going to ruin them.”
I rolled my eyes and started stripping one of the dress forms.
“Get behind the curtain and strip,” I said, tossing him a shirt and a pair of pants. I hadn’t made him any underwear. That just seemed a little too . . . intimate. I was sure he was covered in that department anyway.
“Yes ma’am,” he said, and headed behind the screen I’d set up. He threw the clothes he’d been wearing over it, and I tried not to listen as he put on the new things.
“How’s it going?” I asked, lurking on the other side of the curtain. It was a little silly, since I’d already seen him naked, but I wanted to show him that I respected his boundaries.
“I’m pretty sure you’re a genius,” he said, stepping out from behind the curtain. I nearly tackled him with glee. I’d been absolutely right with my measurements. Everything was perfect.
“Well, if the shoe fits,” I said, twirling my finger so he’d spin around and I could check out the back. I also checked out his ass, which was so perfectly cupped by the jeans that I nearly fainted. Suddenly I realized that I’d made him look so good, I didn’t want him to leave the studio. He would cause mass chaos. Women would stop whatever they were doing and mob him. It would be like The Beatles all over again. Ryder was dangerous in those clothes. Curse me and my sewing abilities!
“Well?” he said, spreading his arms out and turning slowly in the mirror.
I sighed. “I’m really good, aren’t I?”
He chuckled and turned to the side to check himself out, and I laughed.
“You are. You’re the best,” he said. Our eyes met in the mirror, and I had the feeling we weren’t just talking about the clothes.
“Okay,” I said, clearing my throat. “Those obviously work, so let’s try something else.” I tossed him the second outfit, and he tried that on. It was even more perfect (if that was possible) than the first. He could probably cause spontaneous pregnancies with that one. Then it was time for the fancier clothes, and I was kicking myself for this insane idea. Ryder was right. I was crazy.
Bad, bad idea.
Finally, he’d tried everything on and not a single stitch needed to be altered. I’d never sewed anything quite so perfectly. Things almost always needed to be fitted to the person. But I didn’t tell Ryder that.
He put his regular clothes on, and I started packing everything up.
“I really don’t know what to say, or what I can do to thank you. This is way too much,” he said. I looked up from my folding to find his face was a little red, and his ears were scarlet. God, I loved it when redheads blushed. I especially loved it when Ryder blushed. Okay, I loved it when Ryder did anything.
“You don’t have to. This is what I do. It’s my contribution to the greater good, or something like that. I like making things for people. And I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately, so this gave me something to do.” I shut my mouth so I wouldn’t elaborate.
“Why haven’t you been sleeping?” he asked, leaning against the table just mere inches away from me. His scent washed over me and made it hard to think.