Free CRAVE - BAD BOY ROMANCE by Elodie Chase

knew
it he'd ushered me into the sweet embrace of the store's chugging air
conditioner and the cool air it provided.
    It was a lovely little clothing
store. The fashions on display were my style, though it didn't take more than a
couple of glances at the price tags fluttering in the air current to make it
clear to me that I didn't have a hope in hell of affording anything in the
place. Still, it would have been the height of rudeness to simply turn on my
heel and walk out, and so I resolved to browse a little. If I didn't, I knew
there'd be an awkward conversation with Cade about how paltry my bank account
actually was, and knowing him he'd force me to have it out with him right here
in the middle of the store.
    To his credit, he left me to it.
Instead of following me around and making me uncomfortable while I drifted
through the racks, he hung out near the front of the store. Now and then I
glanced over, and after a few minutes he'd found a seat in what I always
thought of as the 'man spot'. Every good store aimed at women had one, and the
one in here consisted of a couple of chairs and a coffee table with gender
neutral magazines near the cash register.
    As far as the clothes went, there
were more than a few perfect dresses to wear to the funeral. Of course, the
cheapest was almost four hundred bucks. It may as well as have been forty
thousand, since I was going to have to work out a way to win the lottery
somewhere between the change room and the front door if I was going to even consider
buying it.
    “See anything you like?” Cade asked
from beside me, making me jump. I hadn't heard him sneak up on me, and that
meant that he'd no doubt caught me running my fingers along my favorite of the
bunch, a flowing black that dress with classy buttons down the front and a nod
to the weather in the form of a distinct, yet somehow understated lack of
sleeves.
    “No,” I lied.
    He inclined his chin at the one I was
touching, and I yanked my hand away. “Really? That one’s nice...”
    “How would you know?” I was annoyed
at him for putting me in the position I was in, liking dresses I felt like I
needed but couldn’t afford. My emotions were coming through even if I didn't
want them to. Riding here, being shown these things. What had started as a fun
little outing, my one moment of escape before the pressures of the lawyer's
instructions and the pit of despair that I was certain the funeral would turn
into, was souring quickly.
    Cade shrugged. “Well, they all look good, I guess.”
    I didn't say anything, and he reached
past me, his arm brushing my shoulder, the incidental contact sending a little
surge of electricity through me that made the hairs on the back of my neck
stand on end. “Listen, go try this one on, huh? There's no shame in seeing if
it's the right size, at least.”
    I nodded, ashamed that I'd lashed out
at him so soon after my apology. My emotions were all over the place. I suppose
that was to be expected, given the circumstances, but taking things out on Cade
was hardly appropriate. I hadn't fully come to terms with how much of my
responsibility he'd put on his broad shoulders, never once complaining. He
handed me the dress and took my shoulders in my hands, using them to turn me
around and giving me a gentle push in the direction of the changing rooms set
along the far wall.
    I went without further protest. He
was right; there wasn't any harm in trying it on. I'd spent my whole life
wanting things I couldn't afford, not matter how hard I tried to convince
myself that nice things made you soft.
    The truth is far, far worse. Every
woman needs to feel special every now and then, and if you're never spoiled
then you're never the center of someone's world.
    As luck would have it, the dress fit
perfectly. Not that it mattered. It may as well have been custom made for me,
it wasn't going to give me a chance to wear it anywhere.
    Knock, Knock.
    “I'm almost done,” I called,
expecting Cade to be giving me the