I can't believe how long it takes to find a dress. For a wedding. How difficult could it be?

Every single dress Sierra tried on, she looked absolutely stunning in. But it was never... it. She needs a dress she'll stand out with. Something that highlights her curves and baby belly. The belly that's only small but at least present.

Sierra has to look perfect, not that she won't anyway. That's so annoying. She looks stunning in anything she wears, and it bugs me that I think this.

If it weren't for our child, I'd never even have thought about her again.

Maybe that's not entirely true. Even after I thought I'd got her out of my system back in Vancouver, I didn't. It only got worse. And now we're having a child together. How much worse could this get?

I'll never get rid of her. But what's scarier, I don't think I want to anyway.

Now I'm here, watching Sierra try on different dresses, some of which look awfully a lot like the real thing. A wedding dress. But that's also kind of what I'm going for.

I can hear Sierra gasp from the changing room, followed be a laugh. "Atlas, close your eyes!"

She's finally calling me by my first name. Not sure how we got there, I was pretty busy picturing her spread over my desk, but I won't complain.

There's only a handful of people calling me by my first name, but neither of them make my name sound important. But when Sierra does... it does things to me. Things I do not like.

"Are they closed?"

Right. "No."

"Then do so! Now."

She's totally the only person that would ever be allowed to order me around. Of course I won't tell her that. God knows what she would do with this kind of information.

"So bossy, Ms. Bloom," I say and actually close my eyes. "Are you trying to take over my company?"

"I'd be a way better CEO anyway." That she would. "Closed?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

"Stop calling me sweetheart," she groans. I won't, she knows I won't. And I know, deep down, she likes it.

A second later I can hear the curtain to the changing room open, footsteps slowly coming closer.

She gasps again as she—I assume—looks at herself in the massive mirror on the opposite side of me.

"Oh God," she says, "don't open your eyes. This looks awful."

Now I have to. She can't just tell me not to do something. Of course that's exactly what I'll do then.

So I open my eyes, wishing I didn't when I look at her.

I can only see Sierra's back as she's turned towards the mirror. But hell, this dress looks....

The back is low-cut, but at least not completely back-free. Starting around the lower waist, the milky-white see-through material turns into a white silk skirt. It's a long dress, covering her legs entirely.

Or so I thought up until she turns around.

My jaw wants to drop, but I'm a little too stunned to function properly. So instead, I stare at her.

She looks the opposite of awful. Sierra looks gorgeous. And the dress... it's something. Something that doesn't do any good for my dick.

Just like the back, the top part of the dress is see-through. Mostly. There's a floral lace covering her nipples, but not the entirety of her boobs. The lace goes over to her sides, down to connect with the white silk skirt.

It's low-cut as well, showing off her cleavage. The V-neck goes down to the seams of the skirt.

Now to the skirt...

It's long, but there are two slits along both her legs. High cuts. So high, if she does one wrong move, she would expose herself completely.

"I said not to open your eyes," she mumbles, crossing her arms in front of her chest. I don't say anything, still trying to process how beautiful she is. "So tell me, how do I look?"

Fucking perfect. "We'll take it," I say instead of answering her question.

"No we won't." Sierra narrows her eyes at me. "I look like..."

"The dress looks good on you, Sierra," I tell her. And your pregnancy-boobs look even better in it, I want to add but don't.

"It's totally inappropriate for a wedding."

I untangle Sierra's arms, spreading them apart so I get a view of her (boobs). Taking a step back, I look her up and down, then take her hand and swirl her around, making sure to watch through the mirror.

The fabric lifts, of course it would. And like I predicted, it does show off parts of her body I don't want anyone—but me—to see.

"It's only inappropriate if you make it that. Don't move around too much and you'll be fine."

Sierra slaps her hand to my chest. "Atlas, this is my best friend's wedding. It's bad enough she thinks the sex of our child should be revealed that day as well. If I look better than her, she'd hate me."

I press my lips together into a thin line, raising my eyebrows, trying not to let the words I'm thinking out of my mouth. "You could wear a burlap sack and you'd still be the best looking one." It happened anyway.

"You only say that so I buy this dress. It's too showy. What if some guy gawks at me and tries to..." she trails off, but I know exactly what she wants to say.

"First of all, I will buy it. Not you. Second of all, if some guy looks into your direction, you will have to make sure there aren't any knifes near me."

She chuckles. "Why? Would you kill for me, Mr. Storm?"

I might consider it. I mean, I did beat up some random man because of what he said to her. And by that time, I didn't even know Sierra was pregnant.

Again, I don't provide her with an answer. Some questions shall stay unanswered. It's for the best.

"How much is this dress?" I ask the owner of this boutique.

The woman looks Sierra up and down, or the dress, either way she is looking at what belongs to me. And I do not like it one bit.

"$29,000," she answers. "But if that's too much, we do have other dresses as well. Less expensive ones."

Like money is ever going to be a problem to me. Besides, I paid this woman good $10,000 for closing the shop, she should know I don't lack of money.

"What's your best looking tiara here?"

Sierra pulls on to my arm, shaking her head as she gets my attention. Truthfully, Sierra only has to breathe a bit differently and she'd have all of my attention.

"Atlas, no. The dress is too much already. Athena is going to murder me!" Sierra protests, but I really don't care.

I hold on to Sierra's hand, twirling her around. As she faces the mirror, I wrap my arms around her from behind, looking at the both of us as we stand.

When I first took her hand, Sierra flinched slightly. It's truly paining me that she reacts that way, but I understand why she does.

At least it's getting less. With me. I sure hope she stays away from any other guy.

I don't like the thought of Sierra ever being with any other man. She should be with her family. Her family being that baby of ours and me.

Whenever she knows I'm about to touch her, Sierra doesn't tense up as much anymore. But she does when the touch comes unexpectedly.

It's alright though, I usually try to warn her beforehand.

"You will look like a princess. Athena chose to go with white for everyone, and in case she didn't tell you, she wants her guests to dress up. She'll be dressed in a whole other colour. Athena will stand out no matter what."

Or something like that...

Sierra sighs softly. "Alright. But I need shoes, too."

Of course she does. But that's not a problem at all.

The owner of this boutique hands me a small bag with the most expensive headwear I've ever bought, and the dress in a garment cover.

I pay like a fortune for these two items, but Sierra is worth every cent.

Our next stop will be any shop that sells high heels. They'll have to fit to the dress perfectly, and of course somehow match the tiara as well.

Shopping for women is way too complicated. I'm starting to understand why Summer takes all day for two items.

It takes good an hour until Sierra finally decides on a pair she likes. And they're another thousand dollar to spend on.

She decides to keep them on as she wants to "break them in", whatever that's supposed to mean.

"Atlas?" Sierra's sweet voice streams through my ears. "Can you promise me not to be mean to our child?"

My head snaps towards her, frowning, but I'm quick to look back at the road.

"You're always so mean to everyone. You never say goodbye. Or thank them. Or even say please when you ask your employees for something. I wish you a good night every evening, and say good morning every new day. But you never reciprocate any of them."

"What does that have to do with the baby?" I question. I guess I know, but I need her to tell me anyway.

"When this child is old enough to talk and tells you good night...I want you to say it back. Imagine how sad they'd be if their father didn't wish them a good night," she says, sounding sad. I don't like this tone on her.

I nod slowly, understandingly. "Look, Sierra, I can't promise to be the best father there is...but I will try my very best to be decent enough."

Sierra shifts in her seat, leaning her head against my shoulder. Although I like feeling her close to me, doubt that's safe. So instead, I grasp Sierra's hand and bring it to my mouth, placing a breath-thin kiss to her knuckles.

From the corner of my eyes, I can see Sierra's fainted smile.

I lay her hand down on her thigh, enclosing it with mine. As I know rather intimate touches are a hard no for Sierra, I figure keeping her own hand between her thigh and my palm is going to keep her calm.

"Can we get some more donuts?" Sierra asks, yawning.

"Sweetheart, we should get you home. You're tired."

Sierra shakes her head no. "We can stop for donuts, then I can eat them, then we get home and watch a movie, and then I can go to sleep."

"We can watch a movie?" I make sure I heard that correctly.

"Yes. You're invited to my movie evening. But only if you get me some donuts. Also, how about some chicken wings? You like them, don't you?"

I sigh. "I'm good with getting you donuts, again. But chicken wings? I'm sorry sweetheart, no." To be fair, I've never even tried them before. But these bones covered with meat don't look appetising.

"Please can we get chicken wings?" I don't have to look at her to know she's giving me hopeful eyes. "Would it help if I said I'm craving them?"

"Do you?" I ask in return.

"Well, no. But I will if that's how we have them for dinner."