Chapter 4

Scarlett

“Okay, let’s see what these look like before we look at anymore. If we’re lucky, one of these will be the perfect costume for you.” I pat the pile of costumes Oliver is carrying, internally taking note of how patient and easy going he’s been while we’ve sifted through just about every adult costume in this boutique. “Dressing rooms are in the back.”

“Alright.” He turns toward the back of the store but then stops and looks back at me.

“What?”

“Well, come on! You have to be back here so I can put on a fashion show.”

A huge smile spreads across my face and I clap my hands excitedly. “Eeeek! I was hoping you would say that! I’m so in!” Following Oliver to the back of the store, I take a seat in one of the chairs placed outside the dressing room so I can wait for his first reveal.

He comes out after a few minutes with his arms out, turning in a circle with a smirk on his face. “What do you think?”

Narrowing my eyes a bit, I shake my head. “I don’t think I’m feeling the bell bottoms and groovy glasses. It’s not…you.”

“Good. I hate it.” He laughs. “I just didn’t want to upset you.”

I giggle at his response. “Hey at least we’re on the same page. And I’m pretty hard to offend so don’t think you have to tiptoe around me. Fairly sure I’ve already lived through the most offensive experience of my life anyway.”

His smile falls and he lowers his voice when he asks, “I know I haven’t really mentioned it a lot but do you want to talk about it? I’m more than willing to listen if you want to vent, or, you know, cry or scream or whatever.”

He’s so sweet for offering. “That’s very sweet of you, but no. I’m good,” I say with a quick shrug and a bob to my head. “I mean it comes and goes, you know? Mark was an asshole who didn’t love me the way I needed to be loved. We weren’t meant to be. Better to not show for the wedding than put that ring on my finger and lie through the I-do’s you know? Then I’d be in an unhappy marriage wishing I had never walked down that aisle in the first place.”

“I suppose you have a point. Well, if you ever need to talk, you know…”

“I guess I know where to find you.” I smile at him. “And thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

“Alright then. So honest feelings about costumes from here on out?” He asks changing the subject back to the task at hand.

I give him a hardy nod. “Yes. Thank you. What’s next?”

“Be right back.”

He takes a little longer this time so I flip through my social media and take a quick close-up selfie so nobody can tell I’m wearing my wedding dress and post it to my profile letting my followers know we’re preparing for tonight’s festivities.

“Alright, coming out.”

“I’m totally ready,” I tell him, slipping my phone into the pocket of my dress.

Oliver steps out in his Mandalorian costume and with his helmet on there isn’t a person on this planet who would know who he is.

“Wow! How do you feel in there?”

“Hot.”

I nod. “Yeah. I wondered. I mean it might be nice for you because not a soul would recognize you and you could enjoy yourself without worry, but then again, having to wear that helmet all night could be a bit hot and or claustrophobic.”

“Agreed. On to the next one.”

I sit back in my chair, a contented smile on my face, and call to him in the dressing room. “Have I told you yet what an awesome guy you are for doing all this with me today?”

“You know, I’m not sure, so why don’t you just tell me again?”

My smile widens at his request. “I think you’re amazing, Oliver. And I’m super grateful you were willing to even consider doing this with me today. Ledger said I wouldn’t be disappointed and so far, he was right.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” he mumbles from behind the dressing room door.

“No, I’m serious. Ledger is a very big Oliver Magallan fan. He had nothing but great things to say about you and if I’m being honest, I think you’re—”

He swings his door open and raises a speculative brow at me. “Really?” he says with a smirk. “You thought this would be a good idea?”

“Holy fucking shit.”

Yep. I totally said those words aloud just now.

As my jaw drops to my lap.

I can’t stop staring.

Am I drooling?

I might be drooling.

I can’t believe he even tried it on.

But there he is.

In the flesh.

Nothing but a loin cloth.

He is one fiiiiine ass—

“You know you’re talking out loud, right?” Oliver pulls me from what I thought were my private thoughts. “I can hear every word you’re saying and thank you for complimenting my ass.”

“Wha-what?” I blink rapidly, trying to regain focus. “Sorry, your uh…your loin bulge has me a bit captivated.”

“Another compliment.” He chuckles. “I’ll take it.”

“Uh huh…”

“You know, my eyes are up here, Sweetheart,” he finally says with a knowing glint in his eye.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

“I mean…” I shake my head, fanning my face because DAY-UM! “You would definitely turn some heads in that outfit, Oliver. I’m just saying. If you wanted to grab a woman tonight you would be—”

“I don’t need to be grabbing anyone but you tonight, Scarlett. I’m your plus one, remember?”

I scoff out a laugh. “Honey, you can grab me all night long if you’ll promise to wear that.”

“Hmm.” He smirks. “Almost worth it.”

Are we flirting?

Is he flirting?

I think I’m flirting.

That’s okay, right?

Ledger said Oliver’s a great guy.

And he’s single.

And I’m single.

I mean who wouldn’t want to get with a man who looks like that?

I steal a glance upward and notice his face has grown serious and his brows are furrowed. “I’m not going to drop you at a huge party and leave you there, Scarlett. You know that, right? I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

Why did I pick out this outfit?

Why did he have to look so unbelievably amazing in it?

Why can’t I stop gawking?

God, to have just a piece of what he has to offer…

One-night stands happen all the time, right?

“Scarlett?”

“Huh? Umm, yeah. I mean, I’m just…you know. I’m just saying, if you met someone and wanted to…you know…”

“Not a chance,” he says as his gaze locks onto mine. “I’m one hundred percent yours for the night.”

He said it.

He’s all mine.

For one night.

My body deflates against the chair and it takes every ounce of willpower in me to not lick my lips and call myself lucky.

For the love of everything holy, Oliver Magallan in nothing but a loin cloth is Hot. As. Fuck.

Tight abs. The perfect V that dips into his costume. Tattooed arms and a perfectly manscaped beard?

Yes please!

I clear my throat. “Alright. Umm, maybe we should try the last one then. I wouldn’t want you to have to worry about, you know, falling out of that one or anything. Wardrobe malfunctions are a bitch, you know?”

“Right. Not to mention I wouldn’t have anywhere to put my wallet and keys. This loin cloth doesn’t have pockets.” He winks and I snicker in response. He’s such a good sport. I can’t believe he even tried that thing on.

I mean, I’m grateful for the new core memory unlocked, but still.

“Well, for the record, if anybody were to ask or if you ever wondered, you would give Tarzan a run for his money.”

Do not look at his bulge.

Do not look at his bulge.

Do NOT look at his bulge.

“Three compliments now? You flatter me.”

Yeah, I’d like to do more than flatter you, big guy.

He winks at me again before stepping behind his dressing room door to try on his next costume. After a few quiet moments of me replaying images of Oliver in a loin cloth while he changes his outfit, I hear him murmur his approval.

“Whoa. This one is badass. I think this is it, Scarlett.”

“Really? Let’s see it!” I sit up, ready to see the perfect costume for my hockey player date.

He steps out of his dressing room and I can’t stop smiling. “Oh, my God, Oliver! This is it! You look incredible!”

He stands before me in a dark blue V-neck drawstring shirt, his sculpted chest peeking through the lace-up front. God, he fills it out perfectly. His deep brown leather pants taper near the ankle and hug his strong legs. The leather belt with all the perfect Viking accessories hangs off his hips and the arm guards coupled with the fur collar… Oh, my God, it’s perfect.

“You are…” I shake my head, speechless for a moment but smiling like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Oliver, you make one sexy ass Viking if I do say so myself. This costume is,” I kiss the tips of my fingers, “chef’s kiss perfection.”

He turns a full three hundred and sixty degrees, allowing me the opportunity to take him all in. “So, this one’s the winner?”

“Without a doubt. Yes. Rip those tags off, you sexy beast. The party starts in an hour.”

“Alright. Let me grab my clothes and pay for this and we’re out of here.”