Dizzy (9 page)

I have no idea if I should be offended or totally soak it in. I go for the second, because walking on stilts has me feeling reckless.

Eleven

~ Dylan ~

Damn. I knew she had a good body, but… toned legs. Lots and lots of toned legs. Long, lean waist. Perfect, slender curves. And if I thought her neck was sexy before, it’s nothing like how it is now. The single strand of hair I wanted to touch has turned into several, and I can’t decide if they should all be put up or if the way they touch her cheekbones and neck would make it worth keeping them down.

I’m seriously close to embarrassing myself, so I shift to make sure nothing’s poking out.

Derrick coughs, and I jump. Her eyes are on me. Shit. I definitely wasn’t looking at her face. Hopefully, I’m not supposed to be answering a question, because I definitely didn’t hear anything.

“I just stopped by because we have a cake appointment, and…” Derrick trails off like he not only takes orders from Lora, but from Ziah, too.

“Well, I’m not missing cake testing, and I really want out of these shoes.” I swear she stands up even taller than before.

I take that as an invitation to check her legs again. I mean, they’re right there. A guy can only be so strong.

“So, we’ll see you guys there?” she asks.

“Sounds good,” Derrick says.

“Wait. Weren’t you supposed to be doing this today, too?” Ziah’s hands go on her perfectly curved hips as she shifts her weight.

“The tailor said he wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow,” Derrick says.

“Damn.” Ziah sighs. “I really thought you two were being tortured today—just like me.”

I am. She just doesn’t know it.

“We’ll see you girls in a few then.” Derrick’s hand grabs my shoulder with a little too much force.

“Yeah. See you.” I glare at my brother before smiling at Ziah.

When she turns, it’s all curves again, and a lot of bare back. Derrick slaps the back of my head as Ziah steps back behind the curtain.

“What the hell’d you do that for?” I ask as I rub my head and try to get my hair to sit right again.

“Wipe the drool off your mouth, and don’t. Even. Think. It.”

I start to protest, but it’s probably pointless. “Whatever,” I mumble. “She’s not my type.”

Derrick snorts as he pushes open the door. “Her and her sister have the same body. That’s everyone’s type.”

I want to make a smart-ass comment about Derrick checking out his fiancé’s sister, but I keep it to myself. Maybe I’ll save it for later. Instead I go back to thinking about Ziah and her mile-long legs and wondering what they’d feel like under my fingertips.

***

Lora steps into the cake shop followed by Ziah, and even though she’s in jeans and shoes, all I can see is that damn dress. Her long waist. Her perfect body. Toned calves, shaped thighs. And the shoes. Holy hell if girls knew what shoes like that did to their legs… actually, maybe they do. It’s a pretty good weapon for them to have.

I need to kick this girl out of my head and run as far away from her as I can get. Mary and I need to find an open road somewhere and forget about brothers, sisters, and T-shirt wearing girls who should not be sexy, yet somehow are.

Oh, and said girl is going to be my sister-in-law? It’s not creepy and against the law, I remind myself. It’s not like we’ll be related by blood, but I also don’t think my blood should be flowing to specific parts of my anatomy so powerfully when I’m around her either.

I need to focus on her jeans instead of those bare legs.

“I got lured into lame wedding stuff with the promise of cake, didn’t I?” Ziah sighs, keeping her eyes on Lora.

“You’re not the only one.” I give my brother what I hope looks like a friendly slug, but he winces. I hit my mark just right.

“You did.” Lora grabs Ziah from the side and kisses her temple as she laughs.

“Eww. Weren’t your lips JUST on his?” Ziah makes a face and rubs the side of her head.

“Grow up, Ziah.” Lora rolls her eyes, and then leans close to her sister. “Let’s start with the chocolate…”

They ooh and aah over flowered cakes that don’t look like food. Lora more than Ziah, but they’re definitely getting along better. And Ziah looks happier. I figured I was stepping over a million boundaries when I said something to Lora, but I really didn’t want any more of Ziah crying in Mary. And I was trying to be nice to her since Derrick has it in his head that I’m not. Maybe he doesn’t realize how much I’m not saying. That could shut him up.

I look over and see Derrick and Lora interacting with their typical vomit-inducing sweetness. Ziah’s got a scowl on her face again, but this time I know it’s not for me. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to give her a hard time.

Or study her lips.

Yeah, that sounds pretty fun.

“You should definitely taste this.” I hold a piece of cake out to her. I’m totally screwing myself over here, too, because I’m tempting myself with something I can never touch. But damn it would be fun.

“Yeah, like I’m going to eat food out of your hand.”

“Why? You scared? Thinking you’ll like it too much?” I wink at her for good measure.

“No, I’m just not an idiot.”

“It’s incredible.” I move it closer. “Strawberry.  Come on, Hanes. Don’t be a wuss. We had a truce. I’ll be nice.” She licks her lips, and I could swear she’s doing it on purpose. “Like I said… Unless you’re scared.”

“I’ll be good, and even put it on a fork.” It’ll still work this way. I set the bite down before I put it on the fork and hold it out to her again. Ziah shakes her head, but then she opens her mouth and takes the bite.

I groan because that? Yeah, totally hot. Derrick gives me a quick look like he can read my mind, but I ignore him.

“You’re right. That was delicious. I’m marking it down as one of my favorites.”

I fork another bite and give it to her. This is torture, but sexy. And it’ll be a lot more fun in a minute. When I get to the third bite, I think she’s enjoying this just as much as I am. When she opens her mouth this time, I pretend I’m going to feed her the bite. At the last second I let the fork take a turn and get cake all over her nose.

“Dylan!”

She grabs a napkin to wipe it off her face, and all I can do is laugh.

***

By the time we hit the third bakery, I never want to see another damn cake again. Derrick and Lora have argued vanilla vs. chocolate, chocolate vs. strawberry, filling vs. no filling vs. blah, blah, blah. I’m really not seeing what the big deal is. It’s a cake.

“I want to die.” Ziah closes her eyes, her arms hung limp at her sides.

“Agreed.” I’m as low in my chair as I can get, my hands resting carefully on my bloated stomach.

“Three quickie locations, and then you two can do whatever you want.” Lora gives her sister a too-bright smile.

I groan. “Are there even any more cake flavors out there to taste?”

“It’s not about the flavor, it’s about how they’re made, too.” But Lora’s quiet. Maybe worried about how I’ll react or something.

“Lora. I can’t move. I’m serious,” Ziah protests.

Lora’s eyes widen. “I warned you when you were eating full slices instead of the samples that this was going to happen.”

Or when I kept feeding her extra bites off the fork.

“Get up, you big wuss.” Derrick mock-punches me in the gut, which means I flinch, which means I’m reminded of every bite of cake I’ve eaten since lunch.

Lora leans over and whispers in Derrick’s ear. His body slowly gets closer and closer to hers, and his smile gets bigger and bigger. I don’t even want to know what they’re planning. Thank God I can’t hear them. Nauseating.

I’m about to cough or something because I really don’t want them to start going at it in public, but then I decide I don’t do subtle. “Dude. Cut the foreplay.” I kick Derrick’s foot.

Lora smiles her sales-girl smile. I’m immediately suspicious. “Derrick and I thought maybe if you wouldn’t mind running Ziah home, we could do the locations tomorrow? So you two have a choice. You can hang with us and do locations and have tomorrow off, or come with us tomorrow to check out three spots.”

“I’ll do tomorrow,” Ziah says.

“Agreed.” With the way those two are looking at each other, I think they need some alone time, pronto.

I slowly stand. “It’s just you and me, Hanes. In a battle to make it home before I die of cake consumption.”

“Perfect! You’re a trooper, Ziah.” Lora plants another kiss on her sister’s head.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Ziah waves her off.

“I just don’t know how we’re going to decide.” Lora sighs as she surveys the table of half-eaten cake slices.

“Then don’t.” Ziah shrugs. “From the pictures you have pegged all over your magazines, the place will be full of flowers. Why don’t you just do a bunch of cakes, decorate them all a little differently but a little the same, stick them on a table, and then people can have choices.”

It’s actually a good idea, especially since no one around here seems to want to make a decision. Lora and Derrick exchange a look, and I’m willing to do anything to not have to re-test any more cake. “Great idea,” I add.

Both Lora and Derrick are nodding and smiling, and I’m thinking this is one part of this damn wedding I won’t have to do again.

“You’re a genius!” Lora grabs Ziah in a hug, making her groan. “I think we’re done with this part then, if that’s cool with you.” She bats her eyes, and Derrick eats it up.

“Cool with me, baby.”

“Great with me, because this means we can go already.” I give Ziah a wink before I really think about it, and then realize maybe I shouldn’t have. Then I remember what she looked like in that damn dress and the way she licked her lips before biting the cake.

Totally shouldn’t be going there. Why the hell did we have to go in that dress shop anyway? We could have texted them from the car out front, and then I wouldn’t be thinking about her so much.

***

“I keep forgetting to ask.” Ziah’s slumped low in Mary’s seat, hands resting on her stomach as I drive her home.

“About what?”

“Hanes?”

“Mmm.” I knew that would bite me in the ass eventually.

“Why do you call me Hanes?”

And now I’m back to conflicted, because we’ve actually started to get along. I’m not sure I want to risk angry-Ziah coming back if I remind her how she used to hate me. “My party. When we met. You got all pissed over a T-shirt, so I just thought of you as Hanes.”

“Been thinking about me for that long?” she teases, and I remember her saying that before. She’s been thinking about me. I like it until I realize what it might mean, and then I wonder if I should be panicking.

“We’re here.” I stop my car in front of her house, and I suddenly don’t want my night to be over. Or maybe I’m thinking I should run screaming.

“So, there’s this Hitchcock marathon on tonight that I’m gonna watch.” She almost winces. “Actually, that was probably a totally nerdy thing to admit.”

“Really?” Hell. I haven’t told anyone I watch old movies, and again, Ziah’s into the same thing.

“Wanna join me?” The words sort of sputter out, and that to me says she’s nervous, which in turn makes me realize I should be nervous, drop her off, and run away.

“Okay.”

What the hell? Why is it every time I try to say one thing to her, something else comes out? “I mean, I guess. Sure. I can participate in your nerdy activities with you.” Hmm, not too bad. Nice cover, Gibson.

Her eyes narrow at me. “You know what? Never mind.”

She’s definitely not supposed to say that though.

“I’m kidding! Plus, you’re the one who said it was nerdy. I just agreed with you.”

Forget the fact I’ve probably seen every Hitchcock movie there is. More than once. She doesn’t need to know that.

“You know you’re a bit spastic, right?”

I open my mouth to give her what’s probably a really stupid excuse that I haven’t even taken the time to figure out yet, but she cuts me off.

“But, considering it’s probably much more depressing to watch movies alone, I’ll take my chances at dealing with you and your personality flips.”

I have to hold in a laugh. She’s funny, but I’m not sure I want her to know that. “So basically it has nothing to do with you actually wanting to spend time with me? You just don’t want to be alone. I have that about right?”

“About.” She gives me a half-grin.

I return it. “That’s a relief because that’s pretty much the only reason I agreed. I mean, neither of us can hang out with our siblings because they’re attached at the mouth, and like you said, friends don’t let friends watch movies alone.”

“Except we’re not friends, remember?”

Damn, she’s good. “Acquaintances? Almost-strangers? Pizza-venting buddies? I’m running out of options here so take your choice.”

I hate to admit I’m kind of having fun with her. It’s the last thing I need or want, but as long as I focus on who she is and not who she is in the dress, maybe I’ll be good.

She gives me a girl eye roll. It’s almost like ‘the look.’ Not in the grumpy way, but in the how-do-all-girls-do-that-so-well way. “How about we just go inside before we miss the beginning of Rear Window?”