Pull You In (Rivers Brothers 3)

I hadn't told my mom.

It wasn't like me to keep things from her, but I just, I don't know, I guess I wanted to just go with the flow for once, not over-analyze it. History had told me, with Rush, overthinking things had only led to upset. Meanwhile, just showing up, just taking chances, just letting things progress naturally had led to all kinds of wonderful things.

Had I been given even five minutes to think about the phone sex in the office, it never would have happened.

My mind, I was beginning to truly understand, wasn't always my ally. Sure, it looked out for me, tried to protect me from things. But sometimes, the things that held risk brought the biggest rewards. I needed to remember that, put some faith to rest in that.

So I didn't share the news with anyone but Fee who decided that none of her dresses would work, and planned for us to have a shopping date.

It sounded a bit like hell, to be perfectly honest, but this was Fiona we were talking about. She made everything a little more fun, a little more exciting.

As it turned out, it was.

She brought coffee and took me to some upscale boutique, Luxe, that was empty save for another set of shoppers, making me a little more comfortable with the event as Fiona breezed around the place, grabbing half the dresses off the racks, then shoving me into one of the dressing rooms, blasting music on her phone as I came out to show her each look.

It was just like one of the movies I hated as a teenager because those experiences had never been mine, and I couldn't help but feel thankful to Fee for giving me the experience. Even if it was several years late.

"Oh, oh my God. Yes," she said when I came out with the second-to-last dress on. "That is the one. Kenz?" she called out to the woman who, apparently, owned the store. "Yes, right?" she asked.

"That's the one," Kenzi agreed. "I'll go pick out some accessories," she added, giving me a smile before rushing off.

"Really?" I asked, smoothing my hands over the belly of it, turning to look in the mirror again. "Aren't I supposed to wear a little black dress?" I asked, trying to decide how I felt about the deep red wine color.

"Sure. If you have no imagination. Trust me, this is the one."

And she would know better than me.

It wasn't overly fancy, which I was thankful for. It was a simple v-neck bodice A-line dress with a cold shoulder and a hemline that was neither demure nor risqué, but just the right amount of sexy.

"This will work with flats?" I pressed, giving her a raised brow. I still had a blister on my heel from those booties she'd put me in.

To that, she and the Kenzi woman shared exasperated looks before Fiona looked back at me. "Yeah. It'll be fine," she relented. "Come on, change back into your normal clothes. Let's go stuff our faces."

With that, we did.

So I had the dress.

And the shoes.

And the understated accessories.

I spent all of Monday nervous about the date, but in a good way. I'm not sure I knew a good kind of nervousness existed before. But it did. Yes, I stressed about what I might say, if there would be awkward silences, or if I spilled food all over myself. But more than that, I was eager for the unknown, for learning more about Rush.

And, you know, maybe to feel his hands on me again.

God, that had been just... other-level hot. I'd never experienced anything like that before.

I wanted more.

Thanks to Rush's communication skills, there was no insecurity about him wanting me back. He told me he did. I could take him at his word about it.

Rush freaking Rivers wanted me.

The thrill that moved through my system at that had made me full-stop between my bathroom and my bedroom, realizing that this was what confidence must have felt like, what power felt like.

It was heady, intoxicating. I could see how people easily became addicted to it, went overboard with it. I wasn't exactly at risk for that, but it was nice to feel even a small twinge of it for a change.

As planned, Fiona showed up an hour before Rush was supposed to pick me up, bringing with her a much smaller makeup bag than the last time after I'd insisted I wanted something a little less dramatic this time.

In the end, Fiona was gone, and I was standing alone in my kitchen, hand pressed to my belly where anticipation was bubbling up while I waited.

Five minutes.

Ten.

Then, ten minutes early, he was there.

"You're early," I told him, giving him a smile as I opened the door.

"You're beautiful," he said, almost sounding a little... sad about that? But that didn't make any sense.