A nervous laugh bubbled up in Shannon’s throat, but her face turned crimson.
“They’re for riding,” she lied, her voice shaky.
Sinking to her haunches, she grabbed her cardigan and held it against her chest, trying to hide herself.
Jess’s gaze flicked over her, eyes narrowing. With one hand on her hip, she frowned. “Something you wanna to tell me? Some kind of fetish going on here?”
Kind of... yes. A Jamie McGrath fetish.
Shannon clicked her tongue, trying to sound unbothered. “Comfort is king, Jess.”
A sceptical look crossed Jess’s face, and Shannon could already tell what was coming next.
“And those bruises, girl… I get you work with horses, but what the fuck, Shan? Why are you covered on one side? You’re not gonna land a guy looking like that under your clothes.”
“I get bruises all the time. And I’m not interested in guys right now. So, let’s focus on the dress so I can get out of here. I’ll buy you lunch as a thank you for helping me.”
God, she echoed Jamie, his words and even his smile still echoing in her chest.
Jess cleared her throat, her eyes trailing over Shannon’s bare legs. “You hate shopping, and you’re clearly not big on taking care of yourself, either. You’ve got so much potential.”
Shannon snapped her fingers. “Eyes, Jess. Up here. Focus. A dress. We’re not here to talk about my life choices.”
“Not until you agree to a spray tan.”
“No way! I don’t want to look like an orange.”
“You won’t. I swear. My mate does a natural one. It’ll mask those—” Jess gestured at Shannon’s legs, wrinkling her nose, “—ugly bruises. You’ll look like you’ve just been in Spain. Pinkie swear.”
The suggestion had merit. If it turned out natural and helped to disguise the marks, she’d take it.
“Fine, but if I look like I’ve been rolled in shit on race day, I’ll kill you with my bare hands,” she warned.
Jess gasped, stepping back with exaggerated shock. “That’s just gross, Shannon.”
“Why are you still staring at me?”
Jess clapped her hands together, grinning. “You’re going to look incredible.”
The curtain flared behind her as she left Shannon alone with her reflection.
Shannon sighed, exhaling as she slumped against the wall.
“Please get me out of here.” Her palms dragged down her face, frustration mixing with exhaustion.
After an hour of back-and-forth, they finally settled on a teal figure-hugging dress with a foil-finished bodice that cinched in her already narrow waist.
The fabric hugged her curves, tracing every dip and contour before ending at her ankles with a thigh-high slit that showed off the unbruised leg.
And to top it off, delicate sheer sleeves provided a subtle cover, blurring the marks she only saw as a weakness.
Jess fanned her face with her hands, her eyes brimming with emotion.
“WOW. Just... wow. After a spray tan, you’ll be unrecognisable. Those rich guys at the races will fall over themselves to talk to you.”
37
Shannon
