by Amber Burns
“Are you shopping for yourself?” Mr. hipster beard asked, bringing my attention away from my object of affection.
“No,” I answered. “My sister’s getting married and she’s looking at doing something different for her wedding.”
“And she’s in the market for a stylist?”
“Stylist?” I masked my ineptitude with a cough. “Uh, yeah, stylist. That’s what she wants. It’s a late engagement photo shoot, and she’ll need someone to, err, style her.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about. I thought they sold clothes. Did clothing stores have stylists? I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into, but an umpteenth look behind reminded me of the stakes.
I followed his lead, and we were soon standing in front of the sales desk. It was a round central piece in the small foyer. While he was browsing through the computer, I glanced down the hall to get a taste for the space. I spied racks of clothing and concluded that the merchandise and dressing rooms were stored away in the back of this more homey business. It was a business though, and Hipster Guy in front of me was a professional.
“All right, we have room for tomorrow morning. I’m scratching you down for nine-thirty.” He blinked up. “We are by appointment only. Sorry, I should have mentioned that earlier; I haven’t had my coffee yet.”
His admission reminded me that he had carried in a tray with three drinks. One for him, one for my girl, and one for whom?
I looked over at the little girl who I had startled on my entrance. She shyly backed away when she noticed my gaze. Her short flyaway blond strands framed chubby baby cheeks and two wide, blue eyes. She was a picture of innocence and a reminder of what I could have had if I hadn’t joined the Marines nearly a decade ago.
“I just need your name mister…” I heard beard guy trail off as I tuned back into what he had been saying.
“Amos Fuller’s just fine. We don’t need to stand on ceremony.”
“O-kay, Amos Fuller it is then.” He clicked away at the keyboard again, presumably signing me up for an appointment.
It elicited me to add, “Shouldn’t you be taking my sister’s name?”
“Not really, no. You’re making the appointment for her. Unless you’d like to wait a little longer while I delete your information and replace it with your sister’s?” He stroked that beard of his, and I could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eye. “And you will be coming along with her anyway, is that correct?”
He knew what I was up to. It was the only way I could explain why he was looking at me that way.
Well, fuck.
I waited for him to kick me out on my ass, or at the very least call me out for using my sister’s wedding as an excuse to see more of my salesgirl. Maybe he was saving his words until he could get the little girl out of the room.
“I guess it’s all right then,” I said.
“Here,” he offered, passing me a business card from a set on the desk by his computer.
“Wesley Sterling,” I read aloud from the card, noting that name and then another I read to myself: Violet Sterling.
“Drat. I gave you an old card.” He grabbed a handful of business cards and flipped through them before asking my salesgirl, “Hey, did you change these again? Wait. Don’t answer that.” He didn’t give her a chance to answer as he thumped his hands down on the counter, cards and all. “It reeks of Violet.” Turning back to me, he smiled wryly. “Sorry you had to see that. I don’t do well with people touching my things.”
He grabbed a pen with a fuzzy purple feather on the end and scratched at the card to note something before he passed it back.
I accepted the modified card. “Wes?”
“That’d be me.”
“And Violet is?” Instinct had me looking over at my salesgirl. She was rummaging through a basket of clothes, glancing up every so often it seemed. Her hands stilled when our eyes met again.
“Violet’s in the back,” Wes supplied. “She’s helping a customer at the moment, otherwise she’d introduce herself. She can do any modifications and personal touches to purchased outfits. We take half a deposit for those.”
I hid my disappointment. There was no other name on the card, so I guessed that my girl wasn’t a partner in the business, but the hired help. With a smile, I thanked Wes and pulled my wallet out to slip the card in for safe-keeping.
“Let me guess.” I said to Wes. “By the sound of it, you’re the older sibling.”
Wes was dropping into his seat, his hands re-arranging the business cards he’d left scattered. “What gave me away?” he said, his voice turning sarcastic.
“My sister’s younger, too.” I shrugged. “Must be the big brother vibe I’m catching.”
“Well, she’s not the only one I have to deal with.” Wes switched his widening grin to my nameless salesgirl. “Sorry, Vanna. Love you bunches, but you can drive a guy loco sometimes.”
So, she’s his sister. That figured. The hug before was totally platonic. And here I thought I had a challenger straight-away. Not that I had expected her to be single. With that ass, body, and face, she had to have some lucky bastard somewhere. Too bad his luck was about to run out.
I wanted Vanna, and I was going to have her.
“Oh, one more thing,” Wes said, breaking through my thoughts. His lucid stare, and the new knowledge that he was Vanna’s older brother, acted as good as a cold shower just then. “We normally don’t cancel without a charge after twenty-four hours. But, since I booked you in for tomorrow and the bride might change her mind, I’ll accept any last-minute cancellation… As long as you keep it within two hours of the appointment.”
I nodded, though I knew that I’d be on time for tomorrow morning’s appointment. There was no doubt about that, even if I had to drag my sister in.
I turned from Wes and caught Vanna’s gaze. My smile was slow and easy, which caused her to tense. Her shoulders came up to her ears, and as if the wire mannequin she was holding could protect her from big bad Amos, she hugged it tighter to her chest.
Oh, baby, you don’t know the half of it.
2
“That one looks great; you’ll match the dog.”
The words were out of my mouth before I had thought through them entirely. In my defense, I did earn a couple of giggles from the bridesmaids. No doubt they were humoring me. They had been been eyeing me all day, and I had been warned that I was a hot commodity. Apparently there was a debate for who would be paired with me on the wedding day.
The bride had her own opinion, naturally.
Very slowly, my sister spun on her heels and pinned me with a tight smile.
“Amos Jackson Fuller.”
Apparently we were busting out full names. I grinned.
“Iris Gracie Fuller?” I made it sound like a question.
Iris, dear that she was, didn’t miss a beat. If there was anyone that could go toe-to-toe with me, it was the other half of the Fuller sibling duo.
“What a brilliant idea,” she said as she lifted the tatters, or tassels, of her dress’ skirt up. She ran her fingers through them and then gave the room a full twirl. Bringing her heels together then, she bent over and clapped her hands at the pooch sitting in her dog bed. “You think so too, Honey?”
The Yorkie barked and ran to heel at her master’s feet. Honey was a non-stop wriggling ball, even when she was pressed to Iris’ chest.
“Iris?” One of her friends, the brunette who giggled earlier at my joke, stepped up. “You’re not really going to wear that, are you?”
“Why? What’s wrong with it?” Iris asked before she took the platform in front of the one-eighty mirrors again. The ugly dress was uglier in the spot-lighting coming from above the mirrors. “Hey, Honey, we do match.” Iris’ laughter caused a titter among her party of five. “What’s up with you guys?” she asked, turning her attention back to her companions. “Relax, I’ve got it under control.” Iris bent down and jiggled Honey. At her owner’s side, the pooch yipped in a sort
of affirmation. Iris looked up to me and winked. “Thanks for the idea, bro.”
The other girls alternated between glaring and pouting at me in unison. The backlash of my joke was coming at me from five pairs of eyes and frightened me into a decision.
“And that’s my cue to go,” I huffed out and stood up from the vintage armchair, taking the opportunity to bask in a good stretch. As I brought my shoulders down, I pointed to the doorway leading to the front room. “Anyone want more coffee? Muffins?”
I got a few nods and took down the orders in my head. On the way out, I stepped aside to make room for Wes and Violet. The former barely glanced at me over the half-dozen dresses piled in his arms.
Violet stopped. “Wait, are you leaving already?” She sounded disappointed.
When I had first met Violet earlier during our appointment, I had thought I was looking at a spitting image of Vanna – minus the extra curves on the younger girl and a head of ashy blonde waves. From what I had learned, Violet was a new graduate from some prestigious fashion school in Tokyo, yet had somehow landed herself back in the family business. She was now carrying the design work to Wes’ styling eye.
“No,” I answered Violet. “The way they’re going in there, I’ll be around until noon. But right now, I think I’ve overstayed my welcome with these ladies. And I’m craving a coffee, so I’m playing errand boy for it.” I caught a hanger that slipped out of Violet’s arms mid-way. Like her older brother, Violet was carrying more dresses in for Iris and her bridal party to try on.
Afraid of making another comment that might go awry, I passed back the hanger and made for the door. Before exiting I threw back over my shoulder, “Do you like your coffee black?”
“Black’s fine,” Violet called back.
All fashioned out, I was expecting the coffee run to occupy me long enough to avoid the most of the fittings of the dresses Wes and Violet brought in. But, my hope for the café to be filled didn’t come true.
In fact, it backfired spectacularly. I was in and out in five minutes, and with less than a ten-minute walk to Sterling Outfits, the chill of the early October wind hardly pierced my clothes. Not that I had forgotten my regret for not packing an extra sweater or two. My long dark sleeve shirt with an outdoor vest barely keep the cold away on the short walk, but did nothing to people from staring, their eyes screaming ‘stupid tourist’.
I delivered the goods to the waiting party, and sure enough, got roped in by my sister and her companions for comments.
“It looks great,” I said for the fourth time, giving the same bland comment to each girl. Like clockwork, each of their expressions went from indulging to plain annoyed. By the time I reached Iris, in a new but equally ugly-as-sin dress, she held up her hand.
“I know, I look great.” She rolled her eyes and sighed.
I shrugged and took a sip of my coffee. Wes just shook his head at me while Violet tried to hide her smile behind her hand.
“So, I’ll take this outside then.” I took a step towards the front room, and Iris waved me off. Her dismissal made me grin over the edge of my cup. She just saved me from having to muddle through more of the same responses for another… Well, however long the dress fittings would go on for.
I was thinking of how I would kill time when it struck me, in the form of wide hips squeezed into a pair of light wash jeans. The sparkly accent that outlined the back pockets did nothing but exaggerate that big, beautiful ass of hers more.
Vanna!
I paused to take in more than just her delicious behind. Her hair was in its bun again, and she wore a sheer white blouse today. The beige tank underneath made me question her place in this store among her fashion-loving siblings. Unlike Wes and Violet, Vanna appeared fit for a children’s school yard. She would make one sexy school teacher, that was for sure.
I noted the idea as a future fantasy; I’d love to role-play with her in the very near future. I was keeping a chart of all the scenarios, including my favorite: doctor & nurse getting freaky on the operating table.
She hadn’t noticed me yet, and that was enough time to give me an idea. Keeping the heels of my Timberlands quiet over the pine floorboards, I made it to the carpet and eased the strain on my leg muscles as I played the quiet mouse – or would I be the cat gaining on the mouse?
Whether mouse or cat, I still had a bit of distance to cover. It was paramount I didn’t squeak a loose board or creaky nail. I didn’t want to reveal my presence before I had my fun.
I keep the hand gripping my drink out of reach, just in case this went south and I needed to keep us safe from both coffee stains and burns. With just an arm’s length between us, I reached out and tucked my free arm around her waist, absorbing the jolt of her startle.
“Oh!” she gasped.
“Hello to you, too.” I murmured the greeting down into those dark brown locks of hers.
I was lost in her eyes until she shifted and her fingers brushed the tops of my forearm. Her feather-light touch did wonders to my cock. I was hard, hot, and bothered in a second.
“Umm…”
She was unsure of how to ask for me to move my arm. I hated doing so, but I also didn’t like that I was making her uncomfortable in that way. Teasing was one thing, taking it too far might push her from me for good.
I dropped my arm, and even stepped back to give her just enough room to spin and face me, her elbows went up to settle on the desk behind her. She was now trapped between me and the desk. I liked her like that. I’d settle with waking up every day above her on my California king back in my Georgia loft.
Baby steps, tiger. I told myself. She’s not going anywhere...
Well, that would be true as long as I didn’t chase her away.
“How are you?” I asked, trying for ordinary and everyday in hopes of loosening her guard.
“Good,” she replied slowly. She was maddeningly skittish.
It’s tough on me too, baby.
Especially when all I had wanted to do since I saw her yesterday was drag her into my arms and crush myself into those moving lips of hers.
“And you?” she finally squeaked out as I brought myself back from my fantasies. I had almost missed what she was saying in my lusty haze.
I saw where this is going. As soon as I said something mediocre like ‘fine’ or ‘good’, she would shut down and I’ll lose any chance at fun.
“I could be better,” I decided to go with. I could see the effect of my words working through her head, so I continued, “I’ve been dragged up here against my will to watch a bunch of girls change,” I said with my slight drawl while still keeping within the fringes of her personal bubble. “Now they don’t want me, and I’m bored out of my mind.”
“You’re not from here?” She latched onto that part of the conversation, just like I had hoped that she would. It was a safe enough topic, and it beat her shutting me out altogether.
“ATL, not born or raised, but it’s my home for now. Been to Georgia before?”
I had learned from Wes that the Sterling siblings were West Virginia natives. While the children moved on, their parents continuing to hold the family fort down. Vanna was the newest edition to the trio, having made the move up to Albany a little less than two years ago. It mirrored my upcoming two-year anniversary as a civilian.
To think, we had both been making big changes in our lives back then and our paths are crossing now.
Since she was opening up, I rewarded her with a bit of my personal history. I left out the part where Iris and I were orphaned as kids and raised by our Grandmamma and Papa. There was no need to bring out the sad stuff all at once. Besides, it wasn’t her sympathy I wanted right then. I wanted her to relax around me and not look like she was ready to jump at the first sign of any intimacy.
She appeared to warm at any hint of traveling I did while on and off tour. Her eyes sparkled and lips parted when she listened to the humorous tales of cultural faux pas I had performed in my past. And boy, were there a lot of the
m.
“It must be nice to travel so much and do what you love while you’re at it…” she trailed off when I finished my most recent story. She was visibly grasping at straws, and I realized I hadn’t properly introduced myself.
“Amos Fuller.” I held out my hand and kept my face neutral over my disappointment in myself. I hoped she might have remembered me from the day before when I gave my information to her brother. Apparently, she wasn’t paying attention to me like I had been to her. She was opening her mouth to reciprocate, but I beat her to it. “Vanna Sterling, I remember.”
