Mister Romance by Amelia Simone (the reading list .txt) 📕

my comfort zone, but that was part of the experience. Chase thought I was sexy. Maybe one of these dresses would help me feel that way too. I wouldn’t leave the dressing room if they looked too outrageous on my body.

Chase declined help from several attendants who tried to take our choices and get us started in a room, and I wondered if he regretted it, because our stack was ridiculous. Finally, when Chase’s arms were full of selections, we moved to the fitting room. Judging from the number of outfits hanging from the rack, we might be eating dinner tomorrow instead of this evening.

He hung up the dresses in an order of his own making and told me, “Okay, try these on first and work your way back. If you like something, please show me. If you don’t like it, too bad. Still come show me.”

I rolled my eyes, and he gave me a severe look. “I’ll be waiting out there in the chair. Your job is to keep me entertained with your fabulous dresses. Remember: research.”

I pushed past the groan that wanted to spill out at his words. I’d suffer for research, even if it took every ounce of resolve to go before him in anything awful. I pulled on the first option in the dressing room, which was a floral affair with flirty ruffles in an attractive teal color. The fabric felt amazing against my skin, but the décolletage dipped lower than I was comfortable with, and the ruffles didn’t do my ass any favors. I scrunched my nose as I peered at the back view. No, thank you.

Chase called from outside the little cubicle. “Come show me, Tamra. I want to see. How does it look?”

I stepped reluctantly from behind the door, staring at the wall in front of me and avoiding Chase’s gaze as he inspected the dress.

“Wow,” he said.

I finally made eye contact with him when the silence had stretched too long. His eyes traveled my body appreciatively, spending more than a few seconds inspecting my nearly-there cleavage. A tingle raced down my spine. He liked what he saw. Maybe this dress wasn’t so bad? I channeled Meghan and pulled my shoulders back. Tits and teeth. My smile was half grimace, but no piece of fabric would tame me. Chase’s eyes darkened at the change in my posture.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Ehh ...” I teetered my hand in the air, honesty winning out over bravado. “It’s okay, not great. The ruffles make me feel like I need to nap after my newborn photo shoot.”

He stared at me blankly.

“Doesn’t the back remind you of bloomers?”

He tilted his head, looking perplexed.

“Ruffled diaper covers that look adorable on babies, and hideous on adults?”

Chase shook his head, focusing on my chest. I could feel my nipples tightening beneath his gaze.

“I promise, no man is thinking of bloomers when he sees your curves in that dress,” he said hoarsely.

My chest flushed as the blush spread up my body, adding color to my cheeks. Chase shook himself and focused on my face. His admiration aside, I’d be thinking about my bloomer butt every second I spent in this dress.

“Hmm ... okay, if you say it’s not right, it’s not right. That color is gorgeous on you though,” he insisted. “Can I borrow your phone when you come back out? I want to look at tie colors to match you. I forgot to charge mine and the battery is dead.”

“Sure, and yes, I like the color.” I spun on my heel and returned to the dressing room to try on the next option.

I shuddered as I managed to tug the green Lycra concoction next on the rack up my body. I’d been swallowed by an anaconda. The shade was not flattering on me, too yellow, and it clung to every dip and curve. I looked like I should be jumping out of the cake at the bachelor party, not sitting demurely for the ceremony. Chase’s eyes widened, and that was all the confirmation I needed. The heat in his eyes made me feel powerful, but it was too much for a family wedding.

I continued to make my way through the pile of satin and sequins with him as my patient audience. An older woman waiting for her daughter smiled indulgently when he asked me to spin for him, then strike a pose. I blushed but did as he asked. I doubt The Thinker was what he had in mind, but his masculine laughter made every silly moment crouching, hand on chin, worth it.

I was nearing the end of our selections when I slipped on a dream dress. Magic. The fabric was an aqua color similar to the teal I’d tried on earlier, but with a different fit. The sleeveless sheath was tasteful but sexy. Where the other dress had unfortunate ruffles, this one had built-in light shaping to smooth any lumps or bumps. It showed a tasteful amount of cleavage and the mid-thigh length made the most of my best asset, my legs. Maybe it wasn’t as exciting as something with sequins, but I felt classy wearing it.

I walked out to show Chase and couldn’t resist putting an extra sway in my step. The slip of the ponte fabric against my skin made me aware of every curve as I moved.

Chase looked up from my phone, and I watched his expression transform. “This is it,” he insisted. “You can definitely be my Moneypenny in that dress.”

“Oh, no. I’d rather be your M.”

“The boss? That works for me too,” he said with a small tilt of his lips. “Can I take a picture of the dress on your phone and send it to myself?”

I nodded and struck my best Bond girl pose.

Chase chuckled and held up my phone to take a photo before I went back into the changing room.

When I stepped out in my own clothes again, Chase was intent on my phone.

“What’s so interesting?” I asked.

He glanced up. “You.