Stroke of Luck

“We could always refuse your dress when it arrives,” Quinn said. “Then you’ll be stuck wearing this robe.” His lips crept up into a grin. “Or nothing at all.”

“No fair. The two of you are ganging up on me.”

Austin laughed and slid his arm around her. Quinn did, too, and they moved in closer, their bodies pressing tightly against her.

“But, baby, we love ganging up on you,” Quinn said. “Especially in bed.”

“You’re both terribly wicked, you know.”

“And you love it,” Austin teased.

Quinn took her hand, then turned her to him. “Seriously, April, we’ve come so far. Let me do this for you.”

She gazed into his solemn blue eyes and bit her lip. Finally, she nodded.

“Okay, I … uh … thank you.”

* * *

Once she was finished breakfast, April donned her clean dress and headed to the shops in the hotel. Austin and Quinn wanted to come with her, but she refused. Although it could be fun, she didn’t need them helping her pick out bras and panties or trying to talk her into more expensive clothing than she was comfortable buying. She intended to pay this back, and the fact she had to shop in the hotel meant it would already be a hefty bill.

By the time she walked out of the third store, she wore new lingerie and a simple, fitted, royal-blue dress that could be worn during the day or dressed up for evening. It was comfortable and flattering. She wore new shoes, also royal blue. She knew it was more practical to stick with her one pair of black, but she’d indulged, mainly because she loved the iridescent panel along the front that shimmered like a fairy’s wings.

“Ms. Smith. Wait.”

She turned to see the salesperson who’d been helping her standing in the store entrance.

April walked back to her. “Is there a problem?”

“Could you come back inside for a moment, please?”

“Why?” But she followed the woman into the store again.

“I don’t know why. I got a call from the manager.”

April’s stomach clenched. Were they going to confiscate her packages? Tell her she couldn’t put them on Quinn’s bill?

But that didn’t make sense.

Unless Quinn had changed his mind.

Her head started spinning, but she knew Quinn wouldn’t do that. She was just gun-shy from the way the manager had treated her on Saturday.

The woman led her to a pair of comfy chairs, and April sat down, her stomach fluttering. She set her bags down on the floor beside her.

“Ms. Smith, I’m glad I caught up with you.”

She turned to see Mr. Gunter, the hotel manager walking toward her. She cringed inside.

She felt conspicuous with the many shopping bags around her, sure he believed she was a gold digger taking advantage of yet another wealthy man.

“I

needed some clothes,” she babbled as he stopped in front of her, knowing she shouldn’t be trying to justify her actions.

“Of course, Ms. Smith. I hope enjoy your purchases.”

“I’m sure I will.”