Page 24 of Gold Rush

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Page 24 of Gold Rush

“I—” Fidgeting, I turn around quickly, facing the mirror again. “I can’t reach the zipper.”

“I’ll do it.” His voice is deeper, huskier as I watch him stride toward my back in the mirror. He slows to a stop, his dark hand grazing the brown fabric. It disappears behind me, and I’m rewarded with the warmth of his fingertips as they glide over my bare spine as he grasps the zipper.

My skin burns, goosebumps rising as he eases the zipper up. My heart roars in my ears as the dress comes together.

“There’s a clasp.” His voice is soft, ragged as the pads of his fingers brush my neck, pushing baby hairs away as he hooks the dress shut.

His head tilts in the mirror and I watch, holding my breath as he bends down. His nose barely brushes my exposed throat— but it’s enough. My perfumeexplodes, filling the fitting room area with the rich, sugared scent of honey, a tang of herbal tea undercutting it, mixing with the smell of citrus — reminding me of quiet early mornings, curling up with a good book in a comfortable seat.

Bennett’s head dips closer, and then his noseistouching me, right at the junction where my neck and shoulder meet. Vague memories of scent marking blink through my brain — when alphas want to make sure others can smell them on an omega. His eyelashes flutter in the mirror, his pupils wide as they rise, meeting mine.

“You look beautiful.”

I flush, my cheeks bright under the lights as I look down, fidgeting with the skirt. My fingers grab handfuls of it, crushing the expensive fabric. “Thank you.” I laugh nervously. “I don’t have anywhere to wear it. It’s silly — I shouldn’t get it.”

“Buy it.” His firm tone makes me look back up sharply. “I’ll make sure you have somewhere to wear it.”

The heat from his body, from his gaze on mine, makes my brain fizz as he reaches around, touching my wrist. I let go of the fabric immediately as his fingers slide down, over my hand, his voice raw. “Juniper —”

I shiver, my heart ricocheting in my chest. Is italwaysgoing to feel like this? I was nervous around the alpha in the bookstore this morning, but this… is something else. This makes me want to shed my own skin and crawl into his.

Bennett opens his mouth.

“Oh!” The associate from before skitters to a stop, staring at us. She takes a step back. “The dress fits! Good!” She hesitates, looking back, “I — your boyfriend said to wear something you’d like so I was coming to take the tags off.”

I shake myself out of the haze as Bennett steps away. The crowding presence of his scent fades enough that I can think, and I turn, giving the associate what I hope is a grateful look.

“I’ll just wear the jeans and the cranberry sweater out, if that’s alright?”

“Yes.” The associate rushes to agree. “Let me take their tags and go ring it up. Will you be taking this dress?”

Bennett answers before I can. “Yes.” He dips a hand into his pocket and pulls out a black card, motioning it to the associate as his eyes move back to me. “Ring it all up on this.”

My skin prickles as she takes his card, and then Bennett touches my shoulder. He turns me, sparks dancing across my body as he mutters, “Let me unzip you.” His fingers deftly unhook the top of the dress, and then slide the zipper down, exposing my skin again.

Swallowing, I glance at us in the mirror, muttering, “Thank you.”

He nods. “I’ll —” He clears his throat. “I’ll be out with Seth, he invited me to lunch —”

“Okay.” I interrupt him. “I’ll be right out.”

He all but runs from the fitting room and I make my way over to the pile of clothes, slipping off the dress to let the associate take it. She hasn’t blinked at my bra or underwear this entire time, but as I reach for the jeans, she glances at them.

“You know, I think we have a selection of intimates in your size — if you’d like to see them.”

I look over at her and pause with my hand on the jeans, then nod. “Yes, please.”

She flashes me a little, almost knowing, smile before taking the dress and rushing off.

In less than fifteen minutes, I step out clad head to toe in new clothes. Thanking the associate over my shoulder, I pause, realizing how quiet the store is, raising my eyes to see Sethstaring at me — unabashedly, with Bennett next to him. Seth’s mouth hangs open, and I flush at his expression of hunger as I step toward them both.

“I thought this would be more appropriate for lunch.”

“I’m definitely hungry.”

“Seth,” I laugh, letting out a little squeak as he reaches out for me, sliding his hand over the arm of the cranberry sweater, caressing the soft fabric andme. His brow furrows, and then he leans in closer, his lips twitching as he inhales.

“You smell like oranges, June.”