by Laura Ann
Quentin cleared his throat. Maybe I shouldn’t have called him.
“You chickened out, didn’t you? The mighty Quentin Gruffman is afraid of a little, ole kiss.” Finley laughed.
“I’m not afraid!” Quentin yelled into the phone.
“Then why didn’t you kiss her?”
“It was only our second date, Fin. Maybe I wanted to move things a little slower. Maybe I’m trying to keep history from repeating itself.”
“Are you still on about being cursed?” Finley groaned.
Quentin could practically hear his brother rolling his eyes as he moaned about the situation.
“For someone so smart, you sure are dumb.”
“Hey!” Quentin scowled at the phone on his dash. “I don’t recall asking to be insulted.”
“You don’t have to ask. The very reason you called me was to have me talk some sense into you and we both know it. You also know that if I’m going to do that, I’m going to have to knock open that hard head of yours. Curses don’t exist.”
“Maybe not, but how do you explain the fact that no woman will date me for any length of time? As soon we I try to take the next step, she’s gone. Not to mention how often something terrible happens to her on our date?”
“Bad luck? I don’t know, man. I’ll admit it’s been crazy, but I still don’t believe in curses.”
“Aria sprained her ankle at the opera. Never wanted to see me again.” Quentin ticked one finger. “Belinda contracted pneumonia the day after I kissed her for the first time, never wanted to see me again. A waiter dumped wine over Crystal’s head at one of the nicest restaurants in the city and she refused to see me again.”
“Got it, got it. I know there’s a history there. But there are still plenty of women who want to see you.”
Quentin snorted. “Yeah, for one-night stands. I’m not into that.”
“I know,” Finley’s voice finally softened. “But if you like this woman, don’t let something as stupid as a wine spill hold you back. I haven’t met her, but if Tia and Zellie are friends with her, then I would imagine she’s way better than those other women you have been taking out, anyway.”
Quentin’s eyebrows rose. “You mean, the ones you’re taking out now?”
Finley’s voice went back to its usual cocky timbre. “Someone has to take one for the team, man. Us Gruffman’s seem to be falling like flies. Someone’s gotta take care of those lovely ladies with you two bozos out of the picture.”
Quentin shook his head with a smile. “So you’re saying I should kiss her?”
“I’m saying you should man up. Do you like her?”
“Yes.”
“Does she like you?”
“I think so.” Quentin furrowed his brows. Yes. She looked disappointed when I didn’t kiss her tonight. Hopefully, I didn’t blow my chance.
“Then go for it, idiot.” Exasperation dripped from Finley’s tone.
“Your concern and love are overwhelming, brother.”
“Whatever. Someone has to say it like it is. And Brody is too twitterpated for it to be him.” Finley snorted a laugh.
Quentin grinned. “Good night, Fin.”
“Night,” Finley responded quickly before the line went dead.
Quentin gripped the steering wheel tightly, then forced himself to relax. You like her and she likes you. She makes you feel things you’ve never felt before. “Man up,” he whispered to himself. “Time to see what Quentin Gruffman is really made of.”
CHAPTER 6
Snow stared at her phone while nibbling on her bottom lip. Quentin had sent her a text, and she was unsure how to respond.
I have tickets to a ball this weekend. Would you be willing to accompany me?
Sitting at her kitchen table, Snow had been working on papers when Quentin’s unexpected text had come through. “I don’t know what to think of you, Quentin Gruffman.” She scrunched her lips up. “One minute I think we have some kind of connection but the next you’re pulling back.” She set the phone down and rubbed her hands over her face. “Grrr, men are so stinking confusing,” Snow muttered under her breath.
“What’s confusing?” Princess said in her perky voice as she waltzed into Snow’s apartment.
“Geez, Princess. Know how to knock?” Grumpy mumbled behind his sister.
“Ms. Snow doesn’t mind, do you?” Princess’s eyes were wide and innocent as she looked to Snow for permission.
Snow smiled softly. “I don’t mind, but a knock would probably be the most polite thing to do.”
“Told ya,” Grumpy rolled his eyes and threw himself on her couch.
Snow smiled and shook her head. “What brings you two by tonight? It’s a school night.”
Princess twirled her hair on her pointer finger. “We needed a break from the Petes. Those two are going to kill me before I can get out of the house.”
Snow kept her laugh to herself. “They do tend to be little troublemakers, don’t they?” She picked up her stickers in order to get back to work.
Princess skipped over and took a seat across from Snow. “So, what were you talking about? What’s confusing?”
“Leave her alone,” Grumpy called from the couch, where he scrolled through his phone. “It’s none of your business.”
“Please?” Princess said softly.
“Just figuring out how to handle a relationship situation,” Snow responded, keeping her eyes on the class work.
“Oooh, this must be about Mr. Gruffman.” Princess sat back and fanned herself. “That man is hot! H. O. T. Hot.”
Grumpy could be heard muttering something from the couch.
Snow bit her lips to keep from laughing at Princess’s enthusiasm. “I’ll admit he’s handsome.”
“So, what’s the trouble? Did he stop asking you out? Did you guys break up?”
“We’ve only been out twice, we weren’t really dating enough to break up,” Snow pointed out.
“Well, doesn’t he like you? Don’t you like him? What’s the problem?”
Princess’s wide-eyed innocence was as refreshing as it was frustrating. It’s not that easy! Snow wanted to explain, but she stopped herself and thought about it. Why isn’t it that easy? I do like him. I guess the question is, does he like me? I thought he did, but then he pulled back and didn’t kiss me. I can’t imagine he’s shy. Not someone like Quentin Gruffman.
“Ms. Snow?” Princess called to get her attention.
Snow blinked several times to bring herself out of her thoughts. “I’m sorry. I drifted. What did you need?”
“Do you like him?” Princess pressed.
“Well, yes. I suppose I do.”
“Then go for it!” Princess smiled and rubbed her hands together as if that one answer solved everything. She stilled and leaned forward. “Has he kissed you yet?” She whispered loudly.
Grumpy shot up on the couch. “Geez, Princess. Knock it off. That’s none of your business. Ms. Snow isn’t going to let us keep coming over if you don’t leave her alone.”
“Leave me be, Grumpy. Girls like to talk about these things. Just go back to your phone.” Princess scowled at her older brother.
Snow’s eyes were wide, and she wasn’t sure how to handle the teenage fight in front of her.
Princess looked back at Snow and leaned in conspiratorially again. “Well? Has he?”
Grumpy continued muttering from the couch but didn’t say anything else.
“Uh... well, no.”
Princess slapped a hand down. “There you go! There is no way you can let a man that good looking get away without a kiss. You have to date him at least long enough for that.”
Snow barked out a laugh. “I have to date him long enough to kiss him?”
Princess shrugged. “Might as well see what it’s like to kiss a guy who looks like that. I can’t imagine it's a bad thing.” Her eyes went dreamy, and she sighed as she rested her head on her hand.
Snow shook her head but internally agreed with Prince
ss. No. I don’t think it would be a bad thing at all.
An hour later, Snow finally worked up the courage to respond to Quentin.
I’ve never been to a ball before. What would I need to wear?
It’s an Old English Themed, so we’d be in costume.
Snow’s jaw dropped. “Oh my gosh, how fun.” She chewed her lip. “But that doesn’t help me!”
I don’t know that I have anything that would work for an English Ball.
Don’t worry. I’ll have something for you.
Snow scrunched her nose.
It feels weird to have a guy provide clothes for me.
What if I told you, I have an entire closet full of clothes in the exact style we need for this ball?
Why in the world would you have that?
My mother went every year. And bought a new dress every time. I’d bet we can find you something that would fit perfectly.
Snow bounced her legs and tried to contain her excitement.
It sounds great. I guess I’ll need to get ready at your house then?
That would be easiest. I’ll grab you around six?
You don’t have any idea how long it takes a woman to get ready do you?
I guess not. Why don’t you tell me what time I’m getting you?
Snow laughed lightly.
How about I just come over? That way you’re not running back and forth before you need to be.
Sounds great.
:)
Snow waited to see if he would say anything more, but the line had gone silent. “He’s definitely not one for lingering,” she murmured to herself. Plugging her phone in on her nightstand, she went to get ready for bed. “Maybe dancing will loosen him up a little.”
“NOW, SUCK IT IN, DEAR. We want it to look as authentic as possible.”
Snow felt like her eyeballs were going to pop out of her head. Suck it in more? Are you kidding me? I think my internal organs are going to be permanently damaged from this.
Mrs. Peabody grunted as she pulled on the corset strings, causing Snow to gasp. “Oh good,” the housekeeper gave one last firm tug as Snow breathed and then tied her off.
“Oh my...” Snow put a hand to her forehead. “Are you sure they wore it this tight? I actually feel a little lightheaded.”
“Have a seat, dear. It will pass.” Mrs. Peabody directed Snow to a chair and pushed her in it.
“Oof! Oh, my word. How the heck did they sit in these things?” Snow maneuvered her body to try to find a more comfortable position but there was no relief from the tight strings around her waist.
“It’ll be fine. Don’t you worry.” Mrs. Peabody shuffled to the closet and pulled out a dark brown dress with more ruffles than any one human should ever wear. “How about this one?”
Snow chewed her lip. I’m super grateful for her help, but that dress is hideous. I really wanted to look good for Quentin tonight. “Um... I don’t think that one’s quite my style.”
Mrs. Peabody let out a small snort. “None of them are going to be your style, they’re from hundreds of years ago.”
Snow smiled and laughed lightly. Gingerly, she stood and walked to the closet. Whoa. She held onto the doorway and had to catch her breath. Dang, this thing is going to be hard to work in. “How about I take a look? Would that be all right?”
Mrs. Peabody pursed her lips, but nodded and back out, sitting in the chair Snow had just vacated.
Snow began looking through the mounds of fabrics, pushing aside dark colors she knew would make her pale skin look even more washed out. “Aha!” She smiled over her shoulder. “How about this one?”
Mrs. Peabody raised a brow at the off-the-shoulder, red silk, but otherwise said nothing. Walking across the room, she helped Snow work her way into the large amount of fabric and lace. Then the older woman went to work on the long line of buttons in the back.
“Oh...” Snow breathed as she watched herself in the mirror. The dress fit as if it were made for her. The heart-shaped upper bodice showed off only a hint of her assets before tapering to the tiny waist they had created with the corset. Flimsy straps of lace fell over the edge of her shoulders, creating an elegant look without being too daring. Small gems and stones were sewn into the skirt, accentuating the vine-like swirls that had been embroidered up the hem. “It’s like a dream.”
“Well, it fits just fine.” Mrs. Peabody stepped back to admire her handiwork, then glanced at her watch. “Good thing too, since you and Mr. Gruffman need to be leaving if you’re to be there on time.”
Snow spun and grabbed the woman’s hands. “Thank you, Mrs. Peabody. It’s all so wonderful.” Snow steadied herself as the room spun, forcing oxygen in and out. Dang corset.
With a small smile, the housekeeper patted Snow’s cheek. “I’ll tell him your coming, he’s been waiting.”
QUENTIN PACED AT THE bottom of the staircase. How long do women take for these things? Good grief, she’s been here for like three hours!
Mrs. Peabody came shuffling down the steps and Quentin stopped to watch her. “Is she coming?” He asked, working to reign in his anxiousness.
Mrs. Peabody winked. “She’ll be down momentarily.”
A delicate throat clearing came from the top of the stairs and Quentin’s gaze shot up. He felt his eyes go wide and only barely caught his jaw before it dropped open. “Holy-”
Quentin closed his mouth when Mrs. Peabody shot him a glare.
Snow walked slowly down the stairs, almost gingerly and Quentin furrowed his brows. Hurrying to the bottom of the staircase, he reached out a hand to assist her. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” Snow was breathing hard. “This dang corset is going to kill me before the night is over, though.” She put her hand to her chest and worked to take in oxygen.
“Maybe we should loosen it,” Quentin turned a concerned face toward Mrs. Peabody.
“Don’t you dare change anything about that woman. It took us forever to fix her up.” Mrs. Peabody crossed her arms over her chest and cocked a hip.
Snow patted his arm. “I’ll be all right,” she smiled softly.
Quentin leaned down. “You look stunning,” he whispered in her ear. He worked to contain the smirk that wanted to cross his face when he saw Snow lightly shiver as his breath washed over her. “Cold?” He teased.
Snow pursed her lips and lightly hit him on the arm. “Meanie.”
Quentin chuckled then held out his arm for her to hold. “My lady.”
Snow’s smile nearly knocked him off his feet. Hold it together, man. Hold it together.
Quentin helped Snow into the limo and slid after her, making sure he sat close. After the car pulled away from the curb, he leaned into her neck again and took a deep breath.
Snow pulled away and frowned at him. “What are you doing?”
“Good grief, woman, you smell good.”
Snow watched him for a second, only to burst out laughing the next.
Quentin crossed his arms and waited for her to stop laughing at him.
“Oh, it hurts. Dang, this corset is a torture device.” She pointed a finger at him, gasping. “No more making me laugh like that.”
“It wasn’t meant to be funny. You really do smell good.”
Snow smiled. “Well, just for the record, so do you.”
Quentin smiled and reached out to take her hand. He entwined their fingers, enjoying the feel of her small, slim hand in his.
“Oh my goodness. Is that where we’re going?”
Quentin looked to where she was pointing. “Yes. Do you like it?”
“I’ve never been to City Hall before.” She turned her wide eyes to Quentin, and he thought he could drown in their depths.
“Well, tonight you will.”
They waited along the curb until someone opened their door and Quentin exited first, then turned to help his date. Taking her hand and tucking it in his arm, he walked them up the red carpet and into the government building.
Snow was breathing heav
y by the time they got inside and Quentin wasn’t sure if it was from her outfit or excitement. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re all flushed and don’t seem to be able to breathe.”
Snow wrapped an arm around her middle. “Yeah, I’ll admit I’m having trouble breathing.” She wiggled around a bit. “And I’m pretty sure it’s all this corset. But I’m not sure there’s anything I can do about it now. Honestly, it took a long time to get dressed. Trying to fix it would take forever. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m just not used to it.”
Quentin frowned but nodded his consent.
After walking around and mingling with the other guests, Quentin finally managed to maneuver him and Snow into the room with the music. He slipped an arm around her tiny waist. “Would you care to dance?”
Snow looked up at him through her eyelashes. “I’d love to,” she breathed.
Quentin never broke eye contact as he swept her to the dance floor. Around and around they swirled, keeping their focus only on each other. All outside sounds and sights became blurred and eventually faded away. What is it about this woman? Having her in my arms feels so right... so perfect.
“Where did you learn to waltz?” Snow broke their silence with a quiet question.
“All of us boys were required to take dancing lessons,” Quentin responded with a grin. “But I’m surprised you know how. Not many people truly dance anymore.”
Snow smiled back. “I danced quite a bit when I was a little girl. I loved ballroom dancing but eventually dropped out as I grew older. It was a struggle to find boys tall enough to be my partner.” She gave a self-deprecating grin.
Quentin pulled her in tighter, loving the fall of her in his arms. “And now?”
Snow’s pink cheeks turned even darker. “That doesn’t seem to be a problem tonight, does it?” She narrowed her eyes, the corner of her lips twitching. “Just how tall are you, anyway?”
Quentin smirked and straightened his spine. “Six-foot-six. My father was six-four. We boys are all built just like him.”
Snow tsked. “Your poor mother. Surrounded by all those giants.”
