“Spot on. If you ever stop doing this job, you could always get a job as a bra consultant. Isn’t that what they call them these days? Consultant rather than fitter?”

Guessing people’s bra size was Jordan’s super-power. If this business went tits-up, she could always fall back on tits. She twisted on one foot, tapping her pockets as was her habit to make sure she had her wallet. She did.

“Back in five. Don’t go anywhere.”

Abby smiled, still clutching the curtain in front of her. “I’m naked. I’m staying put.”

Jordan didn’t reply, trying to put that image out of her brain as she jogged out of the shop.

True to her word, she was back in ten minutes with a 32D nude, strapless bra. When she drew up outside Abby’s changing room again, she hesitated. How was she meant to do this?

“Knock, knock,” she said, even though there was nothing to knock her hand on. Sometimes her Britishness exasperated her.

Abby poked her head out, gratefully accepting the bra. “You really are the best,” she said. “I don’t think Delta would have jumped to my aid like you just did. She couldn’t even make it here in the first place.”

Jordan gave a gentle shrug. “That’s why I’m here.” She sat on the biscuit-coloured sofa outside the changing rooms, trying to regulate her breathing.

Nerves jangled throughout her body.

This wasn’t like her. Jordan was calm and collected around brides. It was her job.

It didn’t work around Abby.

Jordan didn’t work as she should around Abby.

She wanted Abby to like her.

Because Jordan liked Abby.

She was attracted to Abby.

She shook her head.

She had no time to be attracted to Abby.

The curtain being drawn back interrupted her thoughts. Jordan looked up.

Her right leg started jigging up and down. A bubble of warmth swelled in her chest, then burst, dripping down her body.

Yep, she was totally in control.

But godammit, Abby looked hot.

A hot bride.

This was new and unwelcome territory.

Abby’s dress came in at the waist, and puffed out from there, with layers of frills. Jordan should not be finding this attractive. But it had nothing to do with the dress, did it?

Jordan cleared her throat and jumped to her feet.

When her gaze connected with Abby’s, she saw doubt. It was her job to fix that.

She swatted aside her inappropriate feelings, and flipped into professional mode.

“You’re not looking sure about this one.” Not a gamble to say, as Abby’s face was currently twisted into a frown. “What don’t you like?”

Abby stared at Jordan, then stepped back in front of her changing room mirror. “It’s just a bit… busy? I mean, I still like it, but something is off.” She ran her hands up and down her front.