I heard nothing more from Paul. When I arrived at work Monday morning, I had a note on my desk detailing me he was out for the day. I smirked, wondering if this was due to my rejection of him.

Pushing thoughts of him to the side, I began to wonder about tomorrow which was dress shopping with Molly. The woman loved clothes. An actual fiend in clothes shops, she had been known to pick fights with people trying to take the last item in her size. At least tomorrow, there would only be the two of us in the shop.

Work breezed by, without so much as a word from Paul. Nothing from him overnight either, I tried not to let it bother me. I knew he was testing my resolve and I had to stand firm.

My hopes of a lay in on my day off were promptly shattered when Molly started banging on my front door like a woman possessed an hour earlier than planned. I groaned and let her in, even putting up with her chatting through the bathroom door about dress styles and trains and tiaras as I took a longer than usual shower.

When I moved from the bathroom to the bedroom to get dressed, she followed me, still talking away about dresses and fabrics. My nonchalant replies of "Yes," "Oh, really," and "That sounds nice," didn't switch on anything in her brain that I might not be that interested in wedding dresses this deeply.

The shop we were going to was approximately a thirty-minute drive from my house. We planned to leave forty minutes before her ten a.m. appointment time, just in case we hit traffic.

By 09:21, just as I grabbed my keys and my bag, she was snapping at me that we were late. Rolling my eyes and keeping my thoughts to myself, I locked the house before heading to her death trap of a car and praying to whatever Gods existed that I would survive her terrible driving.

Speeding, close distances, checking her make-up in the mirror, reaching into her bag for chewing gum—Molly held the title of a typical female driver. Her car, as a car, was perfectly safe. She made it a death trap.

Thankfully, we made it there in one piece and I couldn't get out of the car fast enough. No wonder Chris insisted on driving her everywhere. We parked in a two-hour free stay car park and walked into town. Being early morning, the streets were fairly quiet except for those hurrying about trying to get to work on time.

The shop wasn't on the main high street, it sat down a cobbled little side street next to an old Victorian building that had been turned into the latest branch of Lloyds. It wasn't a massive shop, but everybody local knew it for its beautiful dresses and exceptional pricing.

The olive green name board above the huge glass windows sported the name 'Belle Bridal' in a calligraphy style cream coloured scrawl.

As we opened the door, an old fashioned bell jingled above our heads, alerting the shop keeper to our presence. I heard the clicking of high heeled shoes on wooden floors just seconds before an older lady in a green tartan suit appeared from around a corner.

"Good morning," she said, clapping her hands together.

Her high pitched, fake pleasantry voice sent shivers down my spine. With her grey hair, five-foot height, petite frame, and glasses on a chain around her neck, she reminded me of my Nan.

"Hi," Molly said, rushing up to her and holding her hand out.

The lady smiled and held her hands up, taking a step back. "Nothing personal, dear, but I'm afraid I'm a bit of a germ phobe. Nice to meet you though. My name is Edith."

I pressed my lips together in an effort to not burst out laughing. Molly dropped her hand and stepped back, confusion and surprise filtering through her green eyes.

"Molly," Molly replied, her voice giving away the slightest hint of a shake.

"What a lovely name," Edith said. "Now, first of all, when are you getting married, my dear?"

"In three months. Just over. First November to be exact."

Edith quirked up a grey eyebrow. "Oh, my, that is quick." She darted her eyes to Molly's stomach and then smiled. "What sort of dress are you looking for?"

Molly, completely blasé to Edith's subtle hint, started off with her spiel of fabrics and cuts and what she thought would suit her body type best. Rolling my eyes at hearing all this again, I took my chance and wandered off to the rails, glancing through the dozens and dozens of exquisite dresses on offer. I couldn't help but wonder if I would ever get the chance to wear one for myself one day.

Lost in my own musings, I completely zoned out from the chatter in the background, or to be more specific, Molly's voice.

The next thing I knew was when Molly laid a hand on my shoulder and said, "Ky, why don't you find something you like?"

I did a double take. "What?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I can't be the only one having fun. Come on, what harm could it do?"

I frowned. "I'm supposed to give you opinions on your dresses. Not only that but I think I'm missing the key ingredient that would require me to try on a wedding dress."

She laughed. "Oh, come on. Stop being a spoilsport. We're supposed to be having a girly day. This is for both of us."

I sighed, and as always, gave in. I carried on looking through the dresses, almost imagining that I might actually one day be doing this for myself. I stumbled across an off-white-coloured lace dress, off the shoulder, trailing down to the floor and two layers that crossed each other making the lace pattern seem extra intricate. I loved the simple style—classy yet elegant.

"That's gorgeous," Molly said, peering over my shoulder. "Go try it on." She glanced over at Edith and said, "You don't mind, do you, Edith? Seeing as my friend is the same size as me, she's like my own little dress model."

Edith waved a hand through the air dismissively. "Of course, not, dear. You go right ahead."

The disdain in Edith's watery blue eyes was very hard to miss and I couldn't help but wonder if it was the thought of two people's germs on her dresses that made her squirm. Either way, she was clearly paid enough to not say anything and deny the blushing bride her request.

Molly pulled out a sweetheart neckline cream coloured fishtail dress and followed me to the changing rooms, Edith scurrying along behind her to strap her in.

"If you need help, dear," Edith said, raising her voice. "Just let me know."

"I think I'm ok, thank you."

I hung the dress on the rail inside the changing room and stared at it for a good minute or more. Was this really a good idea? Would I just be filling myself with false fantasies of something that would likely never happen?

"Fuck it," I whispered to myself. "There's no universal law on trying on a wedding dress. It's just a dress."

I took off my jeans and t-shirt and slid the dress off its hanger, studying it carefully for hidden zips but could find none. Figuring it just must be a pull-on type dress, I slid it on over my head and inched down my body until all the creases were out.

I looked down at myself, seeing how the fabric hugged my body, and bit my lip as a broad grin started to spread across my face. Sucking in a deep breath, I turned to face the full-length mirror and see what I looked like.

I couldn't help but gasp, my jaw falling wide open when I stared at my reflection. The lace clung to me like a second skin, highlighting every part of me. The off-shoulder design drew attention to my bare neck and chest, making me look really slim and elegant. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and let it fall down to my chest. The slight natural wave to my dark hair contrasted perfectly against the lightness of the dress. I scooped my hair up into a rough bun, letting some curls fall back around my face. The term 'seductive elegance' sprang to mind, and I couldn't help but smile. The more I stared at myself, the more I couldn't believe how a dress could change my entire appearance.

"Are you done yet?" Molly said, her screeching voice shattering my trance.

I let go of my hair and went to the curtain, pulling it back.

"Oh wow," Molly said, her hand flying to her mouth. "Ky, you look absolutely amazing. You have to buy that dress."

I shook my head. "Don't be silly."

"Why not? At least you'll be all set ready."

I laughed and looked down at myself again, touching the fabric. I loved it. "No, Molly. I am not buying a dress before I've even got a boyfriend, let alone a proposal. Besides, by the time I get down the aisle, weddings will be out of fashion."

She giggled and then motioned her hands over her own dress. "What do you think?"

The slinky dress clung to her tight body like a glove. The sweetheart neckline accentuated her big boobs, and the corseted top with the fishtail at the bottom gave her an almost perfect hourglass figure.

"You look incredible. It really suits you."

She nodded, grinning. "I can't believe I've found it already. It's the first dress."

I smiled and touched my own dress. "If it's the one, it's the one."

My mind decided that point in time would be the perfect time to conjure up images of Paul stood in a grooms suit, waiting at an altar for me. I closed my eyes for a brief second and forced them away.

Molly clasped her hands together and squealed. "You're right. I'm going to buy it."

I headed back into the changing room and as slowly as possible, took the dress off. Every part of me screamed to buy it before someone else did. My heart and soul wanted it so bad, but I had no need for it now, probably ever with the way things seemed to be going. My head overruled my heart and soul, and I decided I couldn't justify buying it. Where would my fun filled day of dress shopping be if I bought my dress now before I'd even been proposed to?

An hour, and two thousand pounds later, Molly drove us back to hers with orders for us to enjoy a takeaway this evening. Chris would be home around teatime with his brother, who he was collecting from the airport, so until that time, we could sort through colour schemes and flower options for the wedding.

We pulled into her driveway to see Chris's car sat there. She frowned, threw her seatbelt off and disappeared into the house before I could even blink. The car continued rolling forwards and I couldn't help but murmur a curse at her lack of care of even applying a handbrake. I yanked the handbrake up and then followed her inside. I'd barely taken my shoes off before she grabbed my hand and dragged me inside the living room.

"Ky, this is Scott. Scott, this is my best friend, Kyra."

I rounded the open door to see a tall, broad, dark-haired man. Beautiful chocolate eyes glistened with joy, an amused expression creasing his handsome face. Bronzed skin and an incredibly toned body, the white t-shirt he wore only seemed to further highlight his gorgeous good looks.

I blushed and glanced away. He was so hot it would be hard not to stare at him, and I had better control of myself than that. Or at least I thought so.

"Nice to meet you," I said, finding myself looking at him again.

He flashed me a dazzling smile. "And you."

Molly shoved me towards the sofa and then said, "Me and Chris need to discuss some wedding things, so you two just..." she motioned her hands back and forth between us "...we won't be long."

She gave me a cheeky grin before running off with Chris. I knew exactly what she was doing.

I dropped my eye contact from Scott and shuffled back on the sofa, picking up one of the cushions and cuddling it to my body as some sort of weird comfort.

He cleared his throat. "So, have you had a good day so far?"

"So far so good."

"Did she find her dress?"

I nodded and laughed. "First one. Thank God."

"That's good. I gather she has rather a lot of energy."

"You have no idea." I wrung my hands together as I tried to calm my nerves. "So, um, where have you flown from?"

"America. My father owns an oil company out there."

"Oh. Molly never mentioned Chris's father owned something as huge as that."

"We have the same mother, different fathers."

I nodded, understanding a little better how two brothers could look so different. Chris was a good-looking guy in his own right, but his thin frame, blond spiky hair, and nerdy glasses combined with his IT technician job did little to serve him up as a macho man. Compared to Scott here, they were like chalk and cheese.

"Where in America are you from?"

"Texas."

My heart skipped a beat as I realised we would have some common ground to talk about. "My mum lives out there. Her and her husband own a horse ranch."

"Really? Whereabouts?"

"Near Springtown."

"I know where that is. I'm from Wichita Falls. My dad owns a couple of rigs around the Scotland area."

I frowned. "Scotland?"

He tipped his head back and laughed. "Not Scotland, UK. Scotland on route two-eighty-one."

I giggled and buried my face in my hands. When I dared to look back up at him, the intensity oozing from his eyes made my heart pound against my ribcage like a drummer in a heavy metal band. I had little doubt that his whole attention was on me.

"Have you ever been to Scotland?" he asked, leaning forwards and resting his arms on his knees.

"Neither of them," I said, laughing. "Have you ever been to our Scotland?"

He shook his head. "I would like to, though. I've heard it's very beautiful. Maybe it's something we can tick off our bucket list together."

My breath caught in my throat. His direct approach caught me completely off guard. Yet his confidence was somehow charming and filled me with ideas that this guy knew what he wanted and would stop at nothing to get it.

"I'm sorry," he said, softening his tone of voice. "I can be too forward at times. Please don't hesitate to tell me to back off if I scare you."

"It's fine," I said. "I'm just not used to men being so decisive and thinking further ahead than a few hours."

"Well," he replied, giving me a mischievous wink. "Maybe I can help change your mind about men."

If I had been a block of ice on a hot grate, I would be nothing but steam by now. A giant cloud of steam. Scott had an aura about him that just hypnotised me instantly. Something about him drew me to him like a bee to honey. Was it the fact that he was different?

"That may be a challenge," I replied. "But we'll see. Nothing is impossible."

He lowered his voice and whispered, "I love a challenge."

My cheeks burst into heat as my heart galloped wildly inside my chest. I thought Paul was my 'one' because he affected me differently to my exes, but this guy was affecting me just as badly, if not more so, than what Paul ever had. Maybe he was actually different.

Maybe my attraction to Paul was nothing more than lust, sexual chemistry. This guy had already suggested about us doing something together and we'd only just met. Was that odd or was it romantic that he was already thinking this way? Had I had the same affect on him that he had on me?

Either way, I liked this. I liked the fact he saw me, liked me, and wanted to get to know me better—even if a trip to Scotland was a bit of a stretch for now, the intent was there. That was when I realised that intent is all I needed from Paul, but his intent had been clear from the beginning—sex, nothing more.

Molly and Chris shortly reappeared, and the four of us soon relaxed into chitchat and put on a couple of movies. Later in the evening, we ordered pizza, Molly very cleverly ordering a pizza for her and Chris to share, and then asking me and Scott what flavour we would like to share.

When the food arrived, Scott came and sat next to me so we were literally sharing the pizza from the box together. Molly, being Molly, decided to put on a horror movie, which she knew full well would make me whimper like a little girl. Blood and guts for entertainment was not my thing.

As I'm sure she predicted though, Scott stayed next to me for the entire length of the movie as I hugged the sofa cushion and watched parts through my fingers. When the two-hour long torture fest ended, I jumped up before she could put another film on and asked her to take me home. Being nearly eight p.m., I was more than tired after being up so early on my day off.

"Ok," she said, sighing and rolling her eyes. "I'll take you home."

"It's ok," Scott said, standing up. "I can drive her."

My heart stopped dead and my body flushed with hundred-degree heat.

Molly grinned, dug around in her bag, and threw him her car keys. "The sat nav is self-explanatory. Don't rush," she said, winking at him and taking Chris by the hand upstairs. "Speak to you tomorrow, Ky," she said to me, calling back over her shoulder.

Scott motioned towards the door and said, "Ladies first."

I hurried past him, my mind running crazy about being alone with him, in the dark, in a car, then at my house. I slipped my shoes on and turned around to see Scott holding the front door open for me. Then, as we reached the car, he opened the car door for me as well.

"Thank you," I said, glad he couldn't see my blushing cheeks because of the darkness.

For the first time ever, I felt safe and comfortable in Molly's car, even with a man I'd just met. His manly presence and his excellent manners only further comforted me that I had nothing to fear, and everything to look forward to—potentially.

We chatted about film likes and dislikes during the short drive to my house, interjected with me giving him directions. When we pulled up on the driveway, an awkward moment fell between us as neither of us really knew what to say or do.

"It was really nice meeting you, Kyra. I would definitely like to see you again."

My heart swelled with warmth and happiness. "I would really like to see you again, too. I've had a really good night with you."

He gave me a brilliant smile before saying, "Let me get the door for you," and hopping out of the car to come around my side and open the door for me.

"Thank you," I said, stepping out of the car.

"Don't mention it," he said, walking me to my door. "Could we perhaps swap numbers?"

I bit my lip to try and curb the massive grin escaping onto my face. "Definitely," I said, giving him my phone.

He tapped his number in and then called himself. Handing my phone back to me, he said, "Can I text you tomorrow?"

I nodded. "I would really like that."

He leaned forwards and pecked a kiss to my cheek, his subtle aftershave surrounding me in tones of sandalwood and vanilla. "Goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight," I replied, unlocking my door.

I hurried inside the house, desperate to shut the door and catch my breath. My knees were shaking and my heart doing backflips. A little voice in my head told me that this was how dating was supposed to be. This guy was ticking all the right boxes from day one. In that instant, I knew that my time with Paul was nothing but limited.

But to be honest, the thought of having someone as hot as Paul but without the commitment issues really appealed to me. For the first time in weeks, I crawled into bed thinking about someone other than Paul.