Then I remembered that Jennifer—who that dress was way too big for—had asked a question.

“Oh, I have a network of people who keep an eye out for me. I also hit estate sales, keep up on eBay and a few vintage wholesale stores online. It’s basically a never-ending cycle of hunting down awesome stuff.”

“Wow. That sounds like a lot of work.”

I shrugged. It was a lot of work, but I loved my job. Harriet had entrusted the shop to me for this long, and I’d made it my own. She’d never once had to worry about not having it fully stocked with unique inventory. I had several regulars who came in weekly because they knew I was constantly finding new stuff. For a few special customers, I took requests and kept an eye out for the particular pieces they wanted.

Jennifer stepped away from the Cinderella dress, and I silently breathed a small sigh of relief. She moved to the stacks of Seven jeans and dug through for her size, messing up all of Levi’s perfect folding. It was a never-ending cycle. They messed; we straightened. She also pulled a skirt and a cherry-red dress out of the armoire and looked around the store.

“Fitting room?”

“Of course. Right this way.” I led her toward the back and pulled the black-and-silver striped curtain open for her. “Let me know if you need any help with the zipper on that dress.”

She smiled and shut the curtain. I crossed to the jeans table and began refolding and straightening. The task made me miss Levi, and also wonder where the hell Jennifer-the-temp was.

“So, how long have you worked here?” she asked from behind the curtain.

“Several years.”

“Did the store carry all of the same kind of stuff before you started working here and tracking it down, or did you do that?”

It was a more personal question than I’d expected, but I was proud of what I’d done here.

“It was more kitschy and commercial before I started. It took a decent amount of time to replace everything with stock that I’d handpicked.”

“Wow, so this place wouldn’t be the same without you, would it?”

Exactly. Which was why I was so determined to make Dirty Dog mine.

“I’d like to think I bring something special to the table,” I replied, keeping my tone casual.

Jennifer shoved the curtain open and turned so her back was toward me. “Could you do up this zipper?”

“Of course. I’m happy to.”

I was pulling the zipper tab up when she said, “I guess when I own this place, maybe I’ll have to convince you to keep working here.”

I froze, and my hands faltered on the hook and eye. I forced myself to finish and stepped away. “There. All set.”

She didn’t even look at me, didn’t acknowledge the bomb she’d just dropped. She just took two steps toward the three-way mirror and twisted this way and that to view the dress.

Objectively, it looked lovely on her, the red against her fair complexion and blond hair. I wanted to rip it off her and tell her to get the hell out of my store.

Jesus, Harriet was moving fast. My appointment with the bank wasn’t even until tomorrow, and she already had a potential buyer lined up?

I needed to talk to her. Tomorrow. After I had my ducks in a row. Determination steeled my spine and was the only thing that kept the tears burning in my eyes from falling.

Then the punches just kept coming.

“Do you think I could try on that blue dress up front?” she asked. “I think it could be altered to fit me.”

Years of training myself to hold a serene expression even when I was getting the hell knocked out of me helped me fake a smile. I swallowed back the words I wanted to scream, and instead said, “I’ll get it. Would you like me to unhook you from this one?”

She said yes, and I reversed the process I’d just completed, all the while keeping that vapid smile on my face. I’d taken three steps out of the dressing room when a phone started ringing, and it wasn’t mine.

“Hey, baby,” Jennifer cooed to whoever was calling her. “Oh, of course. I’ll be right there. I can’t wait either.”

She hung up the call, and I heard the rustle of clothes. “I’ll have to come back to try on the other one. I’ve got to go.” She stepped out of the dressing room. “I’ll take the red one if you can wrap it up real quick.”

“Of course.” My movements were wooden as I ran her credit card, wrapped the dress in tissue, then put it into one of Dirty Dog’s signature bags and tied it shut. I handed it over the counter.

She winked. She fucking winked. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon. It was so nice chatting, Yve.”

And then she was gone. As soon as the door chimed, I sank onto the stool behind the counter and dropped my head into my hands. “No way. I can’t. I just can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

I jumped off the stool as the deep voice scared the ever-loving shit out of me. Titan stood in front of me. The door hadn’t chimed again, had it? I was losing my mind.

“Jumpy?”

I pressed a hand to my pounding heart and sucked in a breath as I ignored his question. “If you’re here for round two, you might as well turn around and walk your ass right back out the door.”

I had no idea where those particular words came from, and immediately wanted to snatch them back. I was supposed to be pretending last night had never happened.

His green eyes lit with something, and I absolutely did not want it to be a challenge. No. Hell no.

“I dare you to lock that door and flip the sign to closed. I’ll take you right here.” He nodded to where I stood at the counter behind the register, and his voice lowered to a husky growl. “I’ll bend you over just like I did in my kitchen.”

The words sent ripples of heat through me, and my nipples hardened against the thin cups of my bra. He was going to see them; he wouldn’t be able to miss them.

I held his stare, not wanting him to see how easily my body responded to him. “Never gonna happen.”

“For every time you tell me never, I’m going to make you beg longer to come the next time I have you.”

“Go to hell,” I spat out, hating that my inner muscles clenched, the ones I could still feel him pounding into. I’d been so right; the man was dangerous.

His eyes dropped for a beat as his smile darkened. “I’ve been there, and it’s not pleasant. I think I’d prefer to stay here and see how much harder I can make those pouty little nipples of yours.”