The Wedding Dress Diaries

Chapter Four

Four

At nine-thirty the next night Parker pulled the door open to Amber’s Bridals. The bell tinkled way too merrily for a frustrating day that had started with a dead end on the Miller case, expanding the black, vast void in his chest. Which meant he’d spent the rest of today numbly going through the motions. Or maybe the numbness had been a problem for months.

Perhaps years.

Rolling his shoulders uneasily, he glanced around. He had to hand it to the kid, she had one helluva store. Classy to the core, the shop contained sleek hardwood floors and an abundance of white dresses lining the walls, veils, fake bouquets and pictures of models in wedding getup. And bowls of…what were those? Rose petals?

Parker couldn’t help himself. He let out a shudder. 

‘Don’t worry.’ Amber’s voice came from behind. ‘No one has to know you were here.’

He let out a barking laugh. ‘I’m losing every masculine mark I ever earned just by passing through these doors—’

Turning, he was hit with a vision of Amber that knocked him on his virtual ass. How had the geeky preteen grown into such a vision? Red hair flowed past her shoulders. She was dressed in dressy jeans and a sheer top that clung to her breasts, the long-sleeve blouse flaring at the waist and sleeves. She managed to look young and sweet and incredibly sexy.

And with the current case he was working on, he felt old and hardened and done with humanity.

Amber crossed to lock the door and then turned to face him, remaining silent. The staring contest grew uncomfortable as Parker realized he was alone in a shop with a beautiful woman who had, at the age of twelve, looked at him as if he hung the moon, the stars and the bloody sun to boot. Unfortunately, the appreciation in her face now held the weight of experience. Not to mention the lady was a walking, talking advertisement for Happily Ever After and Parker was quite convinced that

Content for Now was beyond his capabilities. Toss in the fact that they were surrounded by swarms of puffy white dresses—and, holy mother, were those fake tiaras?—and the situation was less amusing than downright concerning.

She hiked a brow that didn’t ease the tension. ‘You ready?’

What was that supposed to mean?

‘Of course,’ he said.

He wasn’t an amateur. He refused to be intimated by the little slip of a thing that he’d taught how to capture crabs on the beach.

As he followed her down the hall, he made a point of ignoring the gentle, seductive sway of her slight hips and the fluid walk. Fortunately, the view was easier to ignore when she stepped into a large room containing two couches, an armchair and a coffee table mimicking an elegant living room, the furniture facing a small space surrounded on three sides by floor-length mirrors. And while he was sure broad daylight and the addition of people encouraged the appropriate air for viewing a dress, somehow the whole setup hinted at something…almost erotic. Especially with just the two of them. Alone.

Damn, what had he agreed to?

‘Take off your jacket and shoes,’ Amber said, waving in the direction of the furniture.

Parker shrugged out of his leather jacket and tossed it on a couch, toeing off his shoes.

‘Uh—’ her eyes dropped to his shoulder holster containing his weapon and handcuffs ‘—the gun, too.’

For some reason he hesitated.

‘What?’ she said, hand on her hip. ‘You don’t mind taking off the jacket and shoes, but you draw a line at the weapon?’