THE DARE (Chicao Nights #3)

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

CHRIS

She’s gorgeous. I can’t stop staring at her.

And I can’t help but be impressed by her.

For all of her obvious professional poise and polished skill, it’s the way she’s dressed that grabs me first.

She’s got the tall, glamorous look perfected. The sleek, tailored pencil skirt suits her to a T.

The wide-shouldered jacket finishes the look with less flash and more charm than some of the gaudy concoctions hanging here in the bridal salon.

Fuck, does Ros look even better than I remember, or is my mind playing tricks on me?

I pray to God it’s the latter.

It’s strange to be near her, like this.

As if we haven’t ripped away and replaced our last conversation with a dramatic silence.

The hallway leading to the back of A Formal Affair bridal shop is long, lined with lace and tulle, sequins and satin as far as the eye can see.

Seating and dressing rooms line either side of the hallway. Crystal chandeliers tinkle from the cream-colored ceilings, lighting the way.

But my eyes are on Ros, my skin practically humming, as I follow in her tight footsteps.

Each click of her sensible high heels across the plush carpet matches my heartbeat, and with a dry throat and lead-filled feet, I try to keep up. Try to keep my stare from straying.

Try to pretend my gaze isn’t lingering on her long legs.

I have a purpose here. And reconnecting with my ex-girlfriend’s little sister isn’t supposed to be it.

But when Ros glances back at me, all honey-brown curly hair and hazel eyes, I forget my mission and just stare.

“We’ll be here all night if you keep walking at this pace.” She sneaks a peek over her shoulder, mouth curving in the corners. “I’ve met snails with faster speed.”

I shake my head, clearing the cobwebs.

“Sorry. I was...” I chuckle, the sound pure nerves, pure laughter. I motion to the fitting rooms. “I was just admiring the selection here.”

“Oh, well, they’re all great.” She shrugs. “They’re all unique and they’re all ours. The tuxedos and the dresses. I’ve picked them out personally myself.”

That’s when I know for sure it’s her.

Not Rosa Donnelly.

But Rosalyn Morales.

Miss Perfectionist. Miss Overachiever. Miss Is-Everything-She-Should-Be.

She might have grown taller since I’ve seen her last.

Probably has a few more curves beneath that sleek, professional skirt.

But I know her.

I know her because she’s the very antithesis of her sister.

Of her whole blonde, seemingly picture-perfect family.

And I can’t help but feel a rush of...something...when the two of us lock eyes.

“Now, the tuxedos are all very similar, but if you want something unique,” she continues, turning to point at a few coordinating suits with a pair of patent Christian Louboutin men’s shoes, “I could arrange that for you... And at a fifty-five percent discount. The employees in here owe me, after all the money we’ve been spending in this place. Here,” she reaches for my formal shoes, that I haven’t taken off yet, “and here...you can slip these on while we wait for Sienna to stop throwing up. Luckily, my cousin Duney’s in there with her, holding her hair.”

I take the shoes, eyeing Ros’s phone resting close to her hip.

“Yeah, remind me not to touch the champagne in here. Apparently, it’s doing weird things to the customers. And I don’t want to be one of them.” I eye the expensive soles in my hands. “The shoes are a nice touch. And they certainly would be useful for someone who’s planning to dance in a tux.”

She smiles, her gaze distant, before focusing back on me. “Well, I hope the bride and groom take advantage of the extra services I offer them. Our budget is already sky high. And I wanted everyone to enjoy themselves.”

I nod, stopping to slip on the new shoes. “That makes you a real hometown hero, Ros.” I do her the honor of using her usual nickname again. “Grooms tend to get so caught up in the bride that they forget to have some fun.”

“Well, it’s also the groom’s wedding.” She shrugs. “But if you ask my mother she’ll remind you it’s her night, as always. I can be happy for her...” Her gaze softens as she looks my way. “When I can be happy for her without hoping that this isn’t just another wedding, and actually turns out to be a genuine marriage. That would be a change.”

I let our eyes meet. I lace my shoe, a single thought driving me as I do.

I need to stop looking at that phone of hers.

Slipping on the other shoe, I tie the laces as another text flashes on her cell phone screen. For the umpteenth time.

I nod towards it, teeth gritting in my mouth.

“Are you ever going to answer that?”

She glances down at the phone resting on her hip.

“Oh, that...” She folds her arms across her chest, and I swear, I can’t breathe. I lose the ability to speak, to listen, to do much more than stare at her as she cuts off the screen, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s just—”

“Your sister calling, from the looks of it.” I pause. “You know you don’t have to ignore her calls for me. Amber and I ended things a long time ago. I’m not here to make trouble. I’m here to help you as fast as possible, then you can go back to your family.”

She nods, her brows scrunching. “I don’t think you know the full story,” she replies.

“Is there ever one when it comes to your sister?”

Ros grins, but her lips soften the expression. Her eye do, too.

“Not really.”

She shakes her head, biting down on her lower lip. It looks as if she’s going to say something else, but at the last second she appears to change her mind. She reaches for a pair of pants, handing them to me.

“The tuxes are also silk like this on the inside,” she points out.

“Are those the ones you picked out?” I ask, hoping I’m right.

She nods, her cheeks flushing. “Your Uncle Tommy sent over your measurements. I thought he was lying at first. Didn’t think the inseam would be so long.” Her gaze lingers over my body. “But now that I see it’s you who will wear the tux...it seems rather apt.”

I swallow.

“It will still be a good fit,” I utter, hating the way the words sound.

She nods, those dark hazel eyes of hers flashing with...something.

But I don’t dare say another word.

I don’t dare do anything but reach for the silk pants and step inside the fitting room. I pray to God they’ll fit.

I pray to God I won’t feel her stare at me as I do.

To keep that phone off.

To keep everything from fracturing.

The few minutes it takes for me to get fitted are a blur.

A blur punctuated by sharp flashes of memory.

I’m not sure what to make of my old girlfriend’s sister.

I can’t figure her out.

And the worst part is...it feels as though I haven’t ever tried.

But I didn’t expect to see her here.

Not two days before my uncle’s wedding.

I mean, I didn’t expect to bump into her at all.

After she quit her Cougars internship last spring, I thought I’d seen the last of Rosalyn Morales.

Especially with me moving up from the minors. To start my career. To try out for the team.

But here she is, with the same dark hair and hazel eyes.

The same wide smile and beautiful, even teeth.

Stepping out of the enclosed fitting area, I shoot a glance at my reflection in the mirror, nodding at how the icy silk pants and tailored jacket fit me.

Like the silk and fine cotton poured itself onto my body.

Perfect. Like everything Ros does.

Not a single wrinkle.

Not a single thread loose.

Anywhere.

Not taking my eyes off her reflection in the mirror, I jerk a nod at her. “Thanks. These look great.”

“I have my ways.”

I pat down the jacket, adjusting my tie. “I think it’s going to do the trick.”

“I did my best,” Ros whispers softly. “God help me...I tried my best...”

“Your best is damned good. Stop beating yourself up. I know you’re getting ready to. I know that look on your face.”

“Easy for you to say,” she counters. “An entire wedding’s success may be on my shoulders, with this wedding planner not doing half her job. And it’s my mom, it’s important to her.” Her voice catches. “I don’t want to disappoint her.”

“You won’t,” I assure her. “You couldn’t if you tried. Now, let’s try on this cummerbund...” I glance around. “If we can get some help over here.”

Ros’s beautiful hazel eyes smile. “The assistants around here aren’t good for much besides supplying the alcohol.” She steps closer. “But don’t worry. I’ve fitted enough groomsmen over the last few days, I’ve learned a thing or two.”

I reach for my tie, making sure it’s cinched up to perfection.

“Well, if you can fit anyone, you can fit me. Do your worst.”

Ros’s eyes are nervous. “I’m not trying to be a brat or anything, but—you know—I can’t help but notice a few things...” She heaves a heavy sigh as if scared of the next words out of her mouth. Her fingers slip over my shirt collar, gripping the shirt tenderly. “You’ve lost weight.” Ros reaches for my stomach. “But you’re still ripped.”

“Thanks. I’ve had a few rougher months than I thought.” I smile. “But I’m back on track. My body is definitely adjusting. It’s even more amazing in these pants. I’ve never felt more comfortable.”

“It’s just—”

“It’s just what?”

Ros shakes her head, taking her hands away. “I just—I think you could look even more amazing. And I don’t mean fit or lean or sexy...”

“You’re not helping yourself by being a tease, Ros.”

She puts a hand to her forehead. “I know,” she admits. Then she slowly slides a hand down my arm. “I just want every detail of this wedding to be exactly right. And you’re the best man. I want to see you at your most...unfailingly handsome...” Her gaze moves over my face, her eyes softening. “I’m sorry...” She looks ashamed. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m just being honest. You look great, by the way. Same as ever. I just—I want to do proper justice to what you’re wearing.”

I look down at her, running my hand over my jaw.

I’m not sure what to say.

I want to tell her she’s being ridiculous, but I know the relationship she has with her mom and sister. Or the lack of one, I guess.

All I know is, I was a part of that.

I was involved. And I wish to God I wasn’t.

I meet her gaze, clearing my throat. “Is your sister going to be a no-show tonight? Or are we in for even more surprises? If so, I think I’ll need some of that rank champagne.”

Ros shakes her head, curls flying. “She’s flying in tomorrow night. Last minute, of course. As always. That’s Amber.”

“Enough about the wedding,” I say as she fastens my cummerbund, fixing my bowtie. “How are you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. Rosalyn Morales or Rosa Donnelly or whatever. Remember you? What about you?” I wait. “How have you been?”

“What do you want me to say?” She takes a step back. “It’s been a long year...been a lot longer than I expected.”

My grip on my bowtie tightens.

I stare at her.

“So how long are you in Chicago for this time?” I ask.

She clears her throat, and the awkwardness stretches between us.

I try to keep my tone neutral, my expression even.

“Um, I’m sticking around this time,” she says. “After quitting the Cougars internship, I took off for a little while, but I came back and I’m about to join my new job this summer. New brand journalist for ‘Chi-town Marketing Agency’.”

I blink. “And you’re excited?”

“Yeah, I am. I just decided I need a change, that’s all.”

I can’t help myself.

I have to ask.

“Was that because of me?”

It’s quiet for a moment.

She shrugs, glancing away towards the ceiling as she walks.

The awkwardness continues to grow.

And she doesn’t do much in the way of ending it, though. Her hands fall to her sides as she strides over to the changing room she was using before.

She digs out a small LV make-up case, which she wraps around with a gloved hand and slides it into her oversized bag.

“We’re being quiet here.”

“Well, ‘we’re’ not exactly making it easy,” she laughs.

“You think these pants could be unzipped a little, maybe? To give me a...fuller look?” I grin. “Thoughts?

She smiles, then looks down to the hem, then back up to my face and laughs. “Well, they can only shrink so much the other way, I guess.”

I raise my eyebrows. “So—”

“Oh, I can pull them up for you, if you want...”

“Assuming you are asking in good nature.”

“And not to be a great big tease?” Her eyes twinkle. “But I think we’d better behave...” She looks down. “I need to check on the rest of the bridal party’s clothes and see if there’s anything I can do. I should get going now.”

“Yeah. We should.” I look around. “I’ve got to meet up with Uncle Tommy tonight before the wedding rehearsal. Check in on him. I guess that’s what a good best man is supposed to do, huh? I don’t want to, but I know I have to. I think I have to.”

She nods. “It’s probably better too.”

“For what—my soul?”

“No, for you. And for me. I don’t want to get in the way of whatever it is you’ve got going on.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She shakes her head. “Really? I think you do. I think everyone knows. The people who matter, anyway.”

And she turns quickly, cramming the rest of her things into her over-sized bag and taking off...leaving me there.

Just standing there like an i***t.

I stare after her.

For a moment, I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my head.

I put my hands to my head, grimacing. It feels like a headache is coming.

I shake my head, then sigh.

She’s gone before I open my eyes.

And I could get upset by that.

I could get angry.

I could...

But I don’t have time.

I’m supposed to be picking up my best man duties for the rehearsal tonight. And despite all the other complications and events that keep on getting in the way, I know this won’t be the last time I get to see Rosalyn Morales.

I know she’s going to be around for a while.

And I know it’s best I just leave well enough alone.

Luckily for me, I’ve never done what’s ‘best.’

So I just smile, then slide off my shoes. I flip them in my hands and make my way over to join in on the fun.