Page 95 of Blissful Devotion

Her understanding and quick attempts to make it easier only makes it worse.

“No, I want to go with you.” I reach for her hand and marvel at the feel of her fingers intertwined with mine. Something I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the joy of experiencing for a while, and something I’m still not sure I deserve.

“Besides, don’t think you’re getting out of your lesson.” I squeeze her hand, and she blows out a breath, sagging against her seat.

She’s not been looking forward to this, but one of our family traditions is to skate at Rockefeller Center, and with how excited Addison is, Kat will do it even if she doesn’t love it.

“Let me know when you're ready. I just have to grab a few things, so I’ll be in the neighborhood,” Vince says as he pulls up in front of the dress shop before he gets out and makes his way around to open Kat’s door.

She slides out of the back seat, her hand falling free of mine as she reaches for his. I watch as she climbs from the car, only to stop right outside ‌as Vince moves into her space.

“Pick something that looks just as good on the ground as it does on you.” He presses a kiss to the back of her hand before stepping out of her way, but still she remains frozen.

I slide across the back seat behind her and call her name, startling her before she quickly moves out of the way. I’m not the least bit surprised to find her cheeks are bright red when she finally turns to face me.

“Come on.” I hold out my hand in offering to her, and she takes it, giving me an adorable smile as we walk into the shop.

“Oh no.” We don’t make it past the front rug before she grinds to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, looking around for something but coming up empty.

Glamour Couture is top of the line and has some of the best in fashion. Every dress I can see from here is beautiful and would look ten times better on Kat.

Or on the floor, like Vince so helpfully said. Something tells me every dress is going to be pictured there, whether I like it or not.

“This is too much. You guys always overdo it.” She’s shaking her head, trying to pull me back the one step I went past her toward the door. “We can go anywhere. We don’t need to be here. I literally can get a twenty-dollar dress from Target, Oli.”

She’d started calling me Oli a few weeks ago, but it still makes my heart race to hear it from her.

“We take family pictures once a year. You can get every other dress from Target, but Nathan picked this shop specifically, and you know how he hates it when we change plans.”

He doesn’t actually, but he does hate when she acts like she’s beneath us, somehow undeserving of us spending money on her.

I give her hand a gentle tug and feel her sway slightly.

Nearly there.

“Come on, let's send them some pictures and make them regret it.” She cocks a brow at me, but I see the glimmer of interest, and this time, when I give a gentle tug, she falls into step behind me.

“Cheater,” she grumbles, but I hear the smile in her voice, and I can’t stop my own.

“Mr. Lawson, I’ve got a rack of dresses for the miss to start with, based on the requests on the phone and our newest arrivals.” The girl behind the counter says, scrambling out from around it toward the far end of the store.

I’ve never been here, never had anyone worth taking, and while I think Natasha used to beg Alex to bring her here, I don’t think he ever did. Getting an appointment is difficult, or it can be.

Most things can be handled if you’re willing to put enough zeros on the end.

I’d heard that saying before, and while I’m not sure who said it, I can’t say it’s wrong. It shouldn’t be true, but here we are as proof.

Nathan said he paid fifty grand to get this place for the day, and that didn’t cover the dress.

Kat’s hand remains in mine as I guide us through the shop to the fitting room on the back wall. It’s nothing more than three walls and a curtain with a few large mirrors inside, but it’s more than enough.

A small couch sits across the way for me to sit in while I wait; the rack outside the fitting room is full, a wide variety of styles and colors. I can’t imagine any of them will look bad on Kat; she always looks beautiful, but I can think of worse ways to spend my day.

“Please let me or one of my colleagues know if you need more or different sizes.”

I give a nod and hear her heels click on the floor as she moves back to the desk, but I can’t pull my attention from Kat. She side-eyes the rack as we make our way here, then releases my hand to take a look.