Bursting at the Seams - Page 3

It is slight and lasts only a moment, but I swear I see him smirk at me. Whether he did or not, I’m looking anywhere else but at him. “All done,” he says to Caroline. “This should be ready in two weeks for your next fitting session.” His voice is like dark honey; sweet, deep, and rich.

“I can’t wait,” Caroline sighs. “Thank you, so much. And Hanna told you I want the underskirt in blue?”

“Yes. Be sure to select the shade of blue fabric you’d like with Justine before leaving today,” he states. “Are you getting a gown today, as well?”

The question grabs my attention, realizing he’s talking to me. With rounded eyes, I glance his way and only blink. “Oh, well—”

“Absolutely!” Carolina interrupts. “She needs a fabulous maid of honor dress. Preferably in a dark purple.”

“I’ll take her through the gown showroom,” Justine announces from behind me.

Emanuel nods and stays behind to help Caroline from her dress without any of the pins coming loose. I can barely pretend to take an interest in the dresses, my mind on the dangerously attractive tailor. Eventually, I find a dress that reminds me of some of the ones that Caroline had sent me before. It’s a wine purple, off the shoulder, quarter-length lace sleeves, and has a similar skirt style to the one her wedding dress has.

Justine fetches one in a size up from what I tell her my size is, and when we return to the fitting area, I let Caroline see it first. With enthusiastic nods, she approves and we go into the changing room to slip it on. It’s big everywhere but the hips and thighs, which is why I had gotten the clerk to get a size up. It’s not very snug, but it’s snug enough to let me know the size down would have been nearly impossible to move around in.

“I love it,” Caroline praises. “We will have to make sure Adaline and Macey get something similar.”

Moving out of the dressing room, my eyes immediately lock with Emanuel’s. I can feel my cheeks heating up, and I haven’t any idea why. I’m not used to feeling so absolutely liquified by a man’s presence. In fact, I can’t recall I had any sort of reaction to a guy other than recognizing they were easy on the eyes. Telling myself to calm down and get over it, I move over to the little platform I’m meant to stand on to be fitted. Emanuel says nothing as he steps to me and begins the process of fitting me. All I can do at first is pray I don’t sweat from nervousness. How embarrassing would that be?

His hand rests on my waist as he works at pinning the bodice to my figure. Only, I swear his hands are lingering a lot longer than they had on my sister. It’s all in my head, surely. I feel his hand creeping down the length of my side and I have to set my jaw in place to try and keep my body from shivering in excitement. Now, I know he hadn’t kept his hands on my sister this long. Looking in the mirror, I find my sister’s reflection and she doesn’t seem to notice.

Maybe it’s time for me to give the dating scene another chance if I’m going to have such an insane reaction to a fitting. In hopes of distracting myself, I strike up a conversation with Caroline. “Have you confirmed with the caterer?”

“Oh, not yet… I was hoping you could do that? You’re so much better at commanding a call,” Caroline chirps.

I let out a breathy chuckle and shake my head. “Alright, I’ll do it. One of these days, though, you’ll have to start making your own phone calls.”

“Why? Are you moving?” she teases.

“More like one of us is getting married,” I state, rolling my eyes. “And I think it’s only appropriate for you to manage your own life at that point.”

“Yes, mom,” she taunts.

As I laugh, I feel a hand trace over my hip and that time, I can’t fight the little thrill that shoots through my body. Goosebumps appear over my shoulders and the core of my being shudders. My eyes fall to him, and I see his warm brown eyes already gazing up to me. He’s even more handsome up close. His nose is straight and pointed, his jaw peppered with stubble, and his complexion naturally a golden tan. As my mind tries to deconstruct what is happening to make sense of it, someone calls, “Emanuel, the next appointment is here.”

It’s the clerk, Justine. And I feel almost robbed of the moment. As much as I tried to tell myself that his hands weren’t lingering on me, the moment they leave my body, I miss them. His touch had been firm, warm, and all too enticing. Emanuel stands, placing a pin back into a cushion that’s about his wrist. “We will need to get this fitted today if it will be ready at the same time as the dress. Can you come back after close today, for a private fitting?”

Tags: Aria Cole Erotic
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