Chapter 2

AN: Thanks for the reviews, everyone, and for all the alerts! You all are fantastic. This ends up well, no worries. I'm a HEA girl, you know?....

Penelope was looking at the color Tamara had chosen for the groomsmens' cummerbund. It was dove gray. Not the worst color in the world, but Pen was hoping for something brighter. She had to wear an evening gown in the same color. She was with Derek at the dress shop with a bunch of gowns in her size. Derek got to choose her dress. Tamara insisted on it. Since Penelope was a groomswoman, not a bridesmaid, she stated it was his responsibility, not hers.

Penelope said she'd wear whatever he wanted. He could pick it out of a book and give it to her, and she'd get it in her size. He could have her wear a female tux, she'd be fine. It was his wedding, and she was coming to grips with it, trying her best to be obliging.

Derek had different plans. "It's gotta be right for you, too, Baby Girl."

Derek always was fussy about his clothes. The man knew he was good looking, and he liked to dress the part. It made sense he'd be fussy about her clothes, too, especially on such an important day.

So, Penelope was stuck on a Saturday afternoon in a Quantico mall, trying on dresses. No woman in the world actually liked to try on bridal dresses. They were never the right size, they were uncomfortable, and they needed to be altered to look passable.

However, she would do it for her Hot Stuff. She hoped he realized how much she loved him.

"That is stunning," the matron helping her in the fitting room told her. The older woman was very good. She started by taking her measurements, then found every style that was available in dove gray.

Penelope raised a brow. "Are you sure?"

"You look very….sensual in that."

Pen really did like this particular dress. It was strapless, floor length, slight flair starting at the knee. It was adorable, but she was afraid it was overly sexy. It might not be bad on other women, but on Pen, it did something to her curves that made her look like a bombshell. Her breasts were on display, her waist pinched in. She highly doubted Tamara would want her standing up next to Derek wearing that dress.

She smiled at the lady. "This is probably not it, but I promised I'd show him every dress."

The matron looked disappointed, but then perked up. "Oh, a man gets to give his opinion? I know he'll love this dress."

Penelope smiled at the woman and sashayed out of the dressing room.

Derek was leaning against the wall. When he turned to look at her, his mouth fell open for a second, then he closed it. He stood up, took a step, and tripped over his own feet.

She started to chuckle. She knew she looked sultry, but not quite that bad! "I know, honey," she said, tugging the bodice up. "Too much me, too little dress."

"Damn, girl," he said, just staring at her and her breasts. He was having a hell of a time forming words… and was he sweating?

The way he was looking at her she felt like she was nearly nude in the dress. It was low cut, but on her, it was almost obscene. With the amount of cleavage she was showing, any man worth his testosterone would look. And Derek had a plethora of testosterone.

She shrugged. "Hey, you said I had to show you."

"Oh, God, yes, show me," he said, his voice deep and gravelly. His eyes were still glued on her bosom.

She fought a snicker. If she shimmied right now, he'd probably pass out. "Derek?"

He met her eyes, then blushed. "Yes.... No.... Yes," he chuckled, then shook his head. "Yes, you're right." He swallowed hard. "That isn't it."

The matron came out of the dressing room. She held a little pink satin chair. "Sir, here is a seat while you wait for your lady."

The second and third dresses Penelope tried on did a lot of the same things to her breasts. It was frustrating; nothing seemed to cover quite right.

"Some women have it, some don't," the matron said in explanation. "You happen to have it."

Derek didn't gape quite as baldly as he did with the first dress, but he didn't look too happy. Instead, he looked really uncomfortable. It made Penelope sad; she didn't want him disgusted.

Trying the fourth one on, she found a similar problem, too. This one had a halter and was completely backless cut to her bottom, and very deep cut in the front. There were little cups to place her breasts into, but she overflowed them. To make matters worse, it was also fire engine red. There was no chance to wear a bra with that dress. Penelope looked on the bright side; she was happy her girls weren't too droopy.

"Your fiance is going to love this one," the matron said, smiling.

She shook her head. "He's not my fiance."

The matron gave a knowing look. "He will be soon, sweetie. He can barely keep his tongue inside his mouth when he sees you!"

Pen thought about correcting the woman, but couldn't do it. She noticed he looked uncomfortable with the first dress, like she embarassed him. However, the matron made it sound like he was panting after her. She didn't notice that, but she wasn't really looking. Instead, she was feeling sort of self conscious. She was going to have to pay closer attention this time!

She walked out and stood in front of Derek. His eyes came up, and she saw it that time. Unmistakable heat. His eyes swept over her slowly, stopping at her chest yet again. Her breasts reacted to his stare, her nipples raised, and he stared at those, too.

Her hands came up to cover her breasts. "Morgan!" she snapped.

She almost thought she'd imagined what she saw. His eyes met hers, and he immediately covered any evidence of heat he had.

"That one is beautiful, too," he said with a smile. "Are there any more?"

"There's one more," she said, turning to go with the matron. She was rather disappointed he hadn't picked one yet. She was hoping she didn't have to try on the last one. It was ugly, and shapeless, like a giant T-shirt made out of satin. The only word for it was dowdy. It certainly was not a bridesmaid dress. It had cap sleeves, was tea length, and had a high, conservative neckline.

She truly looked frumpy. Even the matron made a face.

"He'll never let you pick that one," she said. "That doesn't do you justice, honey. You have beautiful curves; your man will want you to show them off."

She gave up trying to tell the woman Derek wasn't her man. She kept saying it with a knowing, Mona Lisa smile. She refused to listen, but it was her only bad trait. Otherwise, the woman was really a doll.

"I've got too many curves," Pen said with a self-depreciating smirk, "but thank you anyway."

"Nonsense," she said with her little smile. The matron shook her head. "I've been fitting dresses like this for twenty-nine years; beauty comes in all sizes. I know what I see, dear."

The compliment made her smile. She wandered into the other room in the dress.

Derek looked up, blinked for a second, then smiled a radiant smile. "That's it. That one's perfect."

Penelope tried to hide the look of hurt she had on her face. He really thought frumpy and boxy was her style? It was a hideous dress; Derek had good taste, he had to know it was hideous.

"Are you sure?" the matron said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Positive," he said, continuing to smile at the woman. "Absolutely perfect."

The matron gave him a sad look, then shook her head.

Penelope felt the punch to her gut, then felt it subside. It was his damn wedding, he could choose whatever he wanted. However, she hoped he remembered paybacks are a bitch. When she married, she was making him man of honor… and he was going to wear magenta from head to toe.

"Okay, Derek. Anything you want."