Page 38 of Taken With Trouble


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She doesn’t move.

“Play nice.” I nudge her forward, and she turns back, glaring at me.

After a few more nudges, I push her straight into the dressing room myself.

Abigail looks up from unzipping the dresses. “Let’s begin.”

“You’re the worst,” Serena mutters for my ears only.

“What’s that, love?” I scoot in closer. “You want me to stay? Your wish is my comman—”

Serena shoves me out of the curtain so hard I almost fall, but I catch myself, chuckling as I return to the sofa.

Abigail must be a magician; not thirty seconds later, the curtains part, and Cruz steps out in a pale pink summer dress. I requested some day dresses as well as evening wear. I’m glad we are starting with the simpler ones first. One look at Serena in something so feminine has my heart racing, and my breath catches in my lungs. Two-inch ruffled straps cross her back and meet the corseted top in front. The print is gingham, and I can tell by Serena’s deep scowl that she detests it. I have never seen anything more beautiful.

“Wh…” Words fail me. Serena doesn’t need a dress to be pretty, but seeing her like this makes her look more gentle and sweet. Harmless.

“I hate it,” Serena announces and marches back into the room.

A minute later she returns in an almost identical dress but in baby blue. It’s more sophisticated than the last one, while still appearing youthful and fun.

“We’ll take that one,” I say.

“I never said I liked it,” Serena says.

“You do.”

“Do not.”

I grin. She’s acting like a teenager now. This dress is perfect.

“Why do I need a day dress?” she asks.

I smile sweetly. “Remember darling, we are touring the Moore Estate after this? It was on theagenda.”

Serena purses her lips, then her eyes light up. “Oh, right, and we’re looking for lost treasure under the Louvre after that?”

I try to give her a scolding look, but it doesn’t hold. “Let’s try the eveningwear next,” I say to Abigail, who is looking between us with raised brows.

Serena harrumphs and stomps to the room, the store associate on her heels.

I open my phone, setting the plans for the rest of the day in motion as Cruz changes. It takes longer this time, and I hear her fighting with the woman.

“I’m not wearing those.”

“You have boobs. You wear these,” Abigail says.

“Why can’t I wear a normal bra?”

I can’t help laughing at this conversation.

The curtain flies open, and Cruz steps out in a silky red dress. My phone slips from my hand, and I reach for it, but my fingers have turned numb. My heart slows before beating so hard it’s physically painful.

She’s stunning. The top wraps around her chest, crossing over with a single shoulder strap. The skirt flares out beneath her ribs and ripples around her to the ground. There’s a slit so high I have to tear my gaze away to keep my mind from wandering where it shouldn’t. The delicate strap highlights the lean muscles in her arms and shoulders. My hands itch to explore every inch of her exposedskin then slip around her waist and dance with her right here in this dress shop. I already know the song we’ll dance to.Somewhere Only We Knowby Keane. Someday it will be our wedding song.

“Your husband likes this one.” Abigail’s voice breaks through my trance.

“He’s not my—” Serena says at the same time I say, “I do.”