Joelle Morrow has her focus set on the future. As an up-and-coming lingerie designer, she's overcome multiple setbacks on the road to achieving her dream of opening her own boutique but has yet to be knocked down, leaving her no time to think about...
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As soon as my knuckles met the door of Jo's apartment, echoing a quick rap, everything happened at once.
My phone belted out a tune signaling an incoming call and a disorientated yelp came from the other side of the door before Jo shouted the door was open. Hearing a rush of footsteps, I drew my phone from my pocket, and seeing it was Henry, sent the call to voicemail with a text saying I'd call him back before twisting the doorknob and stepping inside.
Only to come to a stop when I saw the state of the apartment.
It was a lacy warzone.
"Jo?" I called out, nudging the door shut behind me as I kicked my shoes off. "Everything alright in here?"
The work space that had previously been confined to Jo's room had spread, with fabric strewn across the floor, the television, and the kitchen table—boxes of small pins and decorations scattered amongst them. Even her mannequin, now dressed in nothing but a pink see-through bodysuit, had made the move, but what caught and held my attention was the line of bras across the back of the sofa. Each a different design, all expertly made.
"Sorry about the mess," Jo said, looking frazzled as she appeared with a large hanger in one hand, straightening the violet dress she wore with the other. "I spent the day re-creating some of my designs so I have an inventory once the boutique is ready to open, but I lost track of time."
I bit back a smile, watching her pile all the finished pieces onto her hanger before disappearing into her room again. "Relax," I said once she returned. "It's okay, they're not expecting us over for a little while anyways."
They being Cameron and Isla, who had invited Jo over for dinner tonight, and to say I was a little nervous was an understatement. It'd been years since I'd introduced them to a woman. Not since I was a young kid—before hockey had become such a focal point in my life. And while I didn't necessarily have any expectations for the evening, I wanted Jo to feel comfortable being herself.
"Are you sure?" she asked, turning to me with a look of uncertainty.
I nodded, moving to help her clean up. "Positive. Besides—" I plucked a lace, dark blue bra from the floor. "—I'll gladly show up late if it means getting a chance to see you in this."
She rolled her eyes, though I didn't miss the way her lips curved before she turned away. "Considering that's not my size, I highly doubt that's happening."
"But you have more?"
"I do," she mused, plucking the bra out of my hands and adding to the pile she held before carrying it back to her room. Picking up three rolls of fabric and a few boxes from the table, I followed. "And if you play your cards right, who knows what'll happen."
Placing her things on her desk, I moved quickly, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind and dropping my lips to her neck. A hum of pleasure filled the air before I began to nuzzle, evoking a laugh as she turned in my arms. Lifting on her toes, her lips brushed mine.
