“Then you would see it before the fundraiser and ruin the surprise!” I’m smiling as I reprimand him. I love the way he justified my purchase. That he’s encouraging me to wear a dress I love. His slow grin also tells me something else. I just revealed I bought the dress as much for him as I did for me.
* * *
Benji
I left the hotel room before Cris to give her time to dress up for me. I know that’s why she bought the dress. She can’t convince me otherwise. Plus, she kicked me out, claiming she couldn’t concentrate while I was hovering. I wasn’t.
Much.
My mind is plagued with memories of watching her strut along the shoreline in naught but a scrap of spandex. Her bright orange bikini was as “scandalous” as Manuel suggested. Her sunscreen-slicked skin was luminescent as she unknowingly rocked her petite curves. There’s something about having seen every inch of her already and then her hiding bits from me that drives me wild.
As I sip my scotch and walk around the bar area next to the ballroom, where the event is going to start in an hour, I let my mind wander to what sort of dress she may have chosen. I know it’s red. I don’t know if it’s short. I don’t know if it’s long. I don’t know if the back is out. I don’t know if it’s strapless. I don’t know if she’ll be wearing a bra underneath or if she’ll forgo all undergarments. What I do know is she’ll be on my arm while wearing it, and then back in our shared room where I’ll slip her out of it.
Our teasing and flirting about tonight being The Night has me excited for the main event. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this eager to have a woman in my bed. And it’s not like I get off on going “where no man has gone before.” This is Cris we’re talking about, and the fact that a firecracker is hiding underneath her official exterior intrigues me.
The hotel’s ballroom is decorated in tropical hues of soothing greens and creams set against the backdrop of pale wood flooring. Cane pole chairs ring tables draped with linens and set with shining gold cutlery and glassware.
When I was first introduced to this sort of wealthy lifestyle, I was perturbed by how much trouble a dot-org went through to squeeze money out of the rich. The entire process seemed pointless at the time. Why spend a ton of money to thank donors for making large donations? Not to sound cheesy, but isn’t giving supposed to be its own reward?
Alas, the pomp and circumstance is customary. Separating the rich from their money takes a bit of finesse, and after it’s done you can’t palm them cab money and shove them out the door in their socks. The Heart-to-Teen group has seen to it to make us feel extra cozy, and those warm fuzzies help us loosen the hold on our money clips.
“Hey, baby bro.” I hear the unmistakable baritone of Nathaniel Owen over my shoulder. Oldest and also adopted child of the Owen clan, and one of the best humans on the planet.
I turn to find him standing next to Vivian, who is dressed to the nines in a plum-colored gown. Her hair is twisted at her nape and diamond earrings dangle from her earlobes. The hand draped over Nate’s arm boasts a chunky engagement ring.
“Nate. Vivian.” I nod around the room. “Are you taking notes for the wedding reception? This place is fancy.”
“You know Vivian. She’s going to have something far more overstated than this.”
Vivian clucks her tongue at his joke. “You know Nate. He wants to get married in a replica of the Empire State Building with the President of the United States officiating, with bears in tutus dancing at the reception. Over-the-top planning is squarely in his wheelhouse, not mine.”
“I would never have dancing bears. It’s cruel. Those beautiful animals forced to wear tulle.”
She beams at him, the love in her eyes so bright it’s blinding to us commonfolk. “That’s why I love you. Always thinking of how others are impacted.”
Their kiss goes on longer than is comfortable for a bystander. I finally look up from my shoes when Nate speaks again. “Where’s Cris?”
“She’ll be down in a few.”
“You didn’t escort her?” Vivian’s eyebrows center over her nose, her frown accusatory.
“She asked me not to.”
This seems to appease my future sister-in-law. “As long as you’re being a gentleman.”
“No promises.” I vowed to show Cris the time of her life tonight and take her virginity like a confident man should. I never promised to be a gentleman. I’m hoping like hell she doesn’t want me to be one. Once I buffed the first layer of paint off my little life coach, I found the naughty streak she’d hidden. I’m not nearly done exploring it.
Just as those thoughts go dancing through my head, not unlike the bears in tutus Vivian and Nate were arguing about, I see a flash of red out of the corner of my eye. My date has arrived.
She spots our trio and instantly gives a cheery wave, her walk not exactly elegant, making her stand out in the best way possible. Cris is always Cris. Whether wearing Chuck Taylors and ripped jeans or in a smoking-hot dress I cannot believe she nearly returned. She’s so gorgeous my heart stops before kicking into gear again and hammering my ribs. Trying to school my expression in front of my brother is a challenge I lose.
The second Cris is close enough to touch, I wrap my arm around her waist and take in every inch of her from tip to toe. Her freckles are out but so subtle no one would notice unless they were standing close. Her blond hair is pulled back like Vivian’s but unlike Vivian’s, unruly ringlets curl at her temples. Wide gray eyes take me in, dark lashes and subtle eye makeup making them appear almost chrome in color. And her mouth. God, her mouth.
Glossy red lipstick I want to kiss off and damn the consequences…and our company.
That’s just the view above the neck. Below gets even better. The dress is cherry red. There are sparkles and straps. It’s formfitting in the most complimentary way. It’s short, but tasteful. Before I can arrange any of those observations into a halfway appropriate compliment, Vivian speaks for me.
“Cris, your dress is exquisite!” She steps between us and touches the delicate material between finger and thumb. “You are absolutely ravishing. What a perfect choice. Is there a special occasion I should know about?”