34
Jack
I look up as the changing room door opens. We’re doing another item on Dany’s list.
“What do you think?” she asks.
She spins around in a little ballet move. I clear my throat as all the blood leaves my head and goes southward.
“It’s good,” I say. My voice is a low growl. “Good,” I say again.
I’ve been losing sleep over this woman and she doesn’t even realize it. This moment is going to haunt my dreams.
She’s in a fluttery yellow dress. The front is held together by ribbons and the shoulder straps are tied in little bows. She looks like a present. For me. A present for me. I could tug in exactly three places and the dress would fall to the floor. Do women realize that ties and buttons are enticements to fuel men’s imaginations?
“I’m getting it then,” she says. She spins agai
