“If you’re open, I’d love to find a dress or two.” I gestured down at my jeans and cardigan and Sperrys. “Actually, I need more than just a dress.”

The girl smiled at me. “Well, honey, you’ve come to the right place. Me and Yve will get you all set up. She’s got the cutest stuff in the whole city.”

I followed JP into the store. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

She nodded and clapped her hands. “Yve! We’ve got a live one!”

Her high-pitched voice screeched without warning, and another woman peered out from what looked like a back room, her arms full of dresses.

“Knock off the yelling about customers, girl.”

“It’s only one customer, and she doesn’t mind.”

Shifting the dresses to one arm, a gorgeous woman with golden tanned skin and dark hair stepped across the floor toward me.

“Ignore her. She still doesn’t have any manners. We’re working on it.” She unearthed a hand from beneath the dresses and offered it to me. “Welcome to Dirty Dog. I’m Yve, and this is my shop.”

“Eden. I’m . . . new in town. Delilah from Voodoo Ink sent me your way.”

Yve’s tawny gaze lit with recognition before sizing me up. “Ah, you’re the one she mentioned might be coming by. She said she hasn’t seen Bishop act like that . . . ever. He’s turned silence into just as much of an art form as the ink he puts down on skin.”

JP gasped. “Oh God, don’t tell me you’re the one who’s going to be responsible for breaking my heart and killing all my bearded and man-bunned dreams.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t mind JP. Her crush is a thing of legend.”

“And Bishop keeps shooting me down. He won’t touch any clients. Who knew the best artist I’d ever meet would be the man of my dreams with such a stupid rule?” JP’s tone was distraught, but clearly overdramatic.

I hoarded the little pieces of information about Bishop like a junkie. Because that’s normal.

“We’ve only met a couple times.” I didn’t want to bring up the fact that he’d rescued me from being possibly raped last night. Today was too nice and new to be focusing on that. Instead, I changed the subject. “So, I was hoping you could help me find some dresses. Actually, for whatever won’t make me look like a tourist. I just . . . I need a change.”

Yve appraised my outfit and nodded. “I can see what you mean. Let’s get started.” She spun away, her sunny yellow dress, the color of the outside of the building, swishing as she turned to a rack.

JP was already ahead of her. “As much as it sucks knowing that you can pull this off in a way I never could, and Bishop will probably fall all over himself when he sees it, you have to try it on.” She holds up a white dress with pink polka dots. “We have the perfect shoes to go with it too, if you’re not on too tight of a budget.”

I thought of the credit card in my purse. I had no idea what the limit was, but knowing my father, it couldn’t be less than five figures.

“Can I try it on?”

“Absolutely. I’ll start putting stuff in the fitting room. You’re going to want to try on way more than just one.”

“Let’s try the teal and the red too. Both of these are fun.” Yve held up a hanger in each hand. The teal dress had a boat neckline that managed to look both sexy and classy, and the red dress had a wide vee that would show a little more without making me feel overexposed.

She carried the dresses toward the fitting room, and I followed. Or I tried. I only made it three steps before a lavender leopard-print dress caught my eye. It reminded me of the one Delilah had worn the other day, but this color was softer and quieter but still fun.

“Oh, I love that one. Delilah has the neon version. She said this was too tame for her inner kitty cat.” JP followed the statement with a rawr and a clawing motion with her hand, and I could picture Delilah doing exactly the same thing.

It wasn’t like I’d be wearing it at the same time and place as Delilah, so . . . “I’ll try that one too, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Try on anything you want. We’ve got cute lingerie, and some awesome skirts, and vintage tops and tees too.”

Yve slipped out of the dressing room to take the lavender dress from JP. “Don’t overwhelm the girl, just funnel some of it into the fitting room and she can try whatever she likes.” She checked her watch. “I’ve got a lunch date at noon, so I’ll let y’all get started while I fix my makeup.”

“Ooh, is that sexy hubby of yours coming to take you somewhere he can have you for lunch instead? And by have you for lunch, I mean bang you over a table for your nooner.”

A hint of a blush stained Yve’s cheekbones, and I couldn’t help but grin at JP’s unfiltered comments.

“I should fire you.” Yve narrowed her eyes. “Tell me again why I haven’t fired you?”

“Because I’m irreplaceable.”

“You’re lucky I love you, kid.”

JP puckered up and blew Yve an air kiss. “Love you too, Yve.”

Yve straightened and looked to me. “Right this way. And get ready to put a dent in your credit-card limit, because I know you’re going to fall in love with these.”

Fifteen minutes later, I knew she was right. All four dresses were on the fitting-room hook I’d designated as the yes pile. The lingerie that mysteriously made it into the dressing room, by JP sliding it between T-shirts and skirts, also fit and hung on the yes hook.

The only things I didn’t plan to leave the store with were the three packs of pasties she’d included and the T-shirts that had the names of bands on them I’d never heard of. They were cute, but if someone started a conversation with me about them, I’d feel like a total poser because googling them to learn their history and songs didn’t seem quite right.

I stepped out of the dressing room with my arms full and ran smack into the side of a tall man coming into the shop through the back hallway.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”

“Looks like you could use some help.” He lifted the dresses from my arms and carried them to the counter, and hung them on the decorative hook beside it.

“JP, you want to ring these up so I can steal that woman of mine away?”