Hometown Honey: A Honeyhaven Romance (The Honeyhaven Series Book 3) by Jessica R. Patch

Author:Jessica R. Patch [Patch, Jessica R.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Bales Publishing
Published: 2020-07-14T00:00:00+00:00

FIVE

Stratton sat on a plush pink chair, the back reminding him of a clam shell. Mirrors surrounded every wall, and in the corner behind a light pink door, Zayda was trying on the tenth, maybe eleventh—he’d lost count after two—dresses in the last hour and a half. But it gave him time to feel like a complete jerk since she’d poured out her heart and admitted to wanting the building—to treating it with respect. He’d warred so hard with himself—between the need to tell her and the fear that she’d bow out of the competition when she desperately needed the money. She had a good shot at winning—if she could pull off the pie and pretend she was enjoying herself. He couldn’t be the one to take away her building and be the root cause of losing a lot of dough. And he was afraid that things like this, dress shopping and being friends, would end.

Those were the selfish reasons.

“When I said I’d take you shopping for a dress, I meant one dress.” They’d all looked fantastic on her except the purple one, but he’d been smart enough not to tell her and sitting here with nothing but self-deprecating thoughts weighed too much on him.

“These things take time, Shay. If you’re bored, go across the street to the bookstore or walk down to the cookware store. Tell Mr. Bernie there’s more to life than cast iron.”

“Bite your tongue, Zayda. Cast iron is king.”

“It’s heavy.” She growled then opened the door. Stratton’s mouth went dry and his pulse spiked into dangerous levels. It was simple compared to the other dresses she’d tried on. Black and sleek. Wide shoulder straps and a plunging neckline—without giving away what was underneath. His temperature rose. He might be having a heat stroke.

It fit snugly at her trim waist then flared out with a soft ruffle around her calves. “That’s a winner.”

She twirled around in the mirror and he licked his lips, feeling antsy and itchy all over.

“I don’t know, Shay.” She turned and looked at her back in the mirror. Soft. Smooth. “Can you zip me the rest of the way up? I can’t tell until it’s zipped.”

“Sure.” He stood on wobbly legs. How did this woman make him feel like a bowl of meringue? He carefully approached her. She looked at him through the mirror.

“It’s a lot of money and I don’t see me wearing this anywhere else.”

Thank the Good Lord she couldn’t see his fingers trembling as they brushed her bare skin clasping the zipper. He swallowed hard and prayed for willpower because the man in him wanted to lead her back into the dressing room, watch while the dress puddled to the floor before allowing desire and passion to carry them anywhere it wanted, but that was highly inappropriate, and he was a southern gentleman and a decent Christian on most days.

But he did take his sweet time zipping it. “This is the one.”

“I need a woman’s opinion.”

“I assure you, that you do not.

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