Page 68 of Mountain Target

“Aha.”

“Here,” Ren said finally. “Try this one.”

Val held her breath, looking at the black sweater dress. She’d completely forgotten she owned it. She felt a moment of panic.

Is it even going to fit?

“A dress? I’m going to freeze,” she complained, but already, she was heading to the bathroom to change.

“It’s got a turtleneck, Aunt Val,” Ren called out. “You won’t freeze.”

The fabric felt weighty in her hands—warm, like a hug. She remembered now where she’d bought it, in Paris. She’d been on the way back to the train station when she’d seen it, in a shop window—the dress, together with a pair of black ankle boots. She’d bought both, even though they were too expensive, and brought it home for a special occasion.

She struggled into the dress, half-ashamed to remember that the special occasion had never arrived. If Ren and Marie hadn’t been rifling through her closet, she might never have found the dress again.

“What do you think?” she said, turning to her audience.

“Tell me you have some black tights.”

“And a pair of black boots.”

“He’s not even going to recognize you.”

Val wasn’t sure that was such a great thing.

“You’re going to knock his socks off.”

Ren giggled. “Nobody says that anymore, Aunt Marie.”

Marie laughed, tousling Ren’s hair. “Come on, let’s go back downstairs and start the movie while your aunt finishes getting ready.”

“You think we can trust her with this last bit? You won’t put on those old jeans again, will you?”

There was nothing old about her jeans, but Val didn’t bother saying so. She nodded quickly.

I’m already wearing the dress.

I might as well find those boots, put on some red lipstick, and go all in.

20

Valentina

Ren and Marie had been right, but they’d also been wrong.

Beau’s icy eyes had widened when he’d seen her, and though his eyes had stayed on her face the whole time they’d been in the house, she could see he really liked what he saw. So they’d been right about that.

But wrong about him not recognizing her.

He recognized her just fine.

And she recognized him.

He’d dressed up as well, wore dark pants and a navy blue shirt that hugged his muscular shoulders and pecs and seemed to have been designed just for him. And the way the sleeves rolled up at the elbow to highlight his thick forearms and those strong, strong hands with their blunt, square nails …

Val shook her head, realizing she hadn’t heard a single word he’d said.

“What?”