Summary: Cori can’t decide on a dress to wear for Mark’s company party, and Mark reminds her why it doesn’t really matter.
Note: PB owns Mark Collins and MC; I’m just expanding their world a little.
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“Argh!” Cori Larson cried, staring at herself in the full-length mirror. The navy blue dress she wore draped beautifully across her lithe frame, showing just enough skin to still be demure. Her toned arms, tanned from the summer sun, were showcased by cap sleeves, and a full-length skirt fell perfectly from her slim hips. She hated it.
“Mark!” she yelled from their bedroom, gathering her skirt in her hand and plodding in her socked feet to where her boyfriend Mark Collins sat watching a Giants game in the living room. She stopped in front of him with a huff, letting the satin swish down to the floor and cutting off his view of the screen. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his glance traveling appreciatively over his gorgeous girlfriend. He may have been missing the Giants’ at-bat, but at least the scenery was worth it.
“This dress. I hate it.”
“So why are you wearing it?”
Cori rolled her eyes and huffed impatiently. “Because I need your opinion on it. Should I wear it tonight? How does it look?” She twisted to the side, smoothing a hand down her flat stomach and scowling at the offending garment. Mark watched her carefully; he knew that his next words were crucial to his well-being.
“You look beautiful, Cor, you know I always think you do.”
Mark reached out to grasp the hand dangling at her side, squeezing it gently. “But if you don’t like this dress, you should change.” Cori smiled at him as she turned and breezed back to their bedroom. “Thanks, Sweetie, I think I’ll try that new green dress I bought last week!” Sweeping into the room she tugged the blue dress off and threw it across the bed. That one wouldn’t be seeing the light of day any time soon.
“Where are you . . . ,” Cori muttered, flipping through the hangers in an attempt to find said green dress. “Ah! There!” Pulling it out, she shimmied into the short frock, admiring the way the fabric swished around her thighs. With it’s short, flared skirt and lace-trimmed bodice, it was a fun little number that Cori had picked up on a whim last week when she’d been shopping with Brooke. The deep, forest green made her normally-blue eyes skew a light emerald color and offset her thick, chestnut hair perfectly. Cori twirled around in front of the mirror to check it from all sides. “Oh, this is cute,” she murmured, “and it’s super fun.” She paused, her lips screwing into a frown. Maybe it was too fun for a work party.
Shuffling back into the living room, Cori resumed her stance in front of Mark, who was now intently watching the Giants as they attempted to get out of a bases-loaded situation in the bottom of the eighth, with the score tied 3-3. His eyes flickered up to Cori, then back to the TV in an attempt to see the pitch. “That one looks amazing, Cor,” he said, eyes glued to the pitcher winding up. “Wear that one, I like it. Yes!” Mark pumped his fist as the Giants defense made a 6-4-3 double play to end the inning. He reached over to grab the bottle of beer sitting on the end table (Cori was taking forever; he’d been ready half an hour ago and he was thought a little pre-game drink wouldn’t hurt), taking a swig before he realized Cori was still standing before him, arms crossed over her chest. He looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Uhhh . . . you good?”
“No I’m not good!” Cori wailed, sinking down on the couch next to Mark in a swirl of verdant material and peony perfume. “I’m trying to look amazing for your party tonight and you don’t even care.” The crossed arms made a reappearance as she glared at Mark. He sighed softly, careful to not let her hear, and reached out a hand to gently grasp her bare knee. Rubbing his thumb softly against the smooth skin, Mark reassured Cori.
“Babe, I told you I liked it. I think you’re gorgeous,” he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “And wonderful.” A kiss on the nose. “And I love you,” he finished, gently kissing Cori’s pout. She sighed softly against his lips and flopped back against the cushions. “I just know it’s a big night for you, a fancy party with your whole team there, and your new promotion, and I want to look perfect. I don’t want to embarrass you.” She let her head loll against the back of the couch and faced Mark. He shook his head at her, a soft smile spreading across his face.
“Cori Larson, you could never, ever, embarrass me.” She raised her eyebrows. “Okay, maybe if you’ve had three beers and two shots and karaoke “My Heart Will Go On,” he conceded, “but definitely not because of a dress. You look amazing, no matter what you’re wearing.” Mark stood and offered Cori his hand. “So. You ready to head out?”
Shaking her head, Cori rose and headed back down the hallway; Mark couldn’t stifle the groan that escaped his throat as he flopped back down on the sofa. “Cori! Come on, you look great!”
“One more!” she called back. “I promise!”
Mark picked up his beer and drained the bottle, hoping that Cori would settle on something soon. He would never understand women. All that work when they could just throw on jeans and a t-shirt and look freaking beautiful. And Cori? Mark smiled to himself, thinking of his girlfriend in the other room. Cori could wake up from a three-day bender and cover herself in a dirty bedsheet and she would still be the most stunning thing he’d ever laid eyes on. He sighed, his stomach clenching in anticipation as he thought of the small, black, velvet box in the back of his sock drawer. It was going to happen soon; her birthday, maybe, or the anniversary of the day they met at college. Whenever it was, Mark knew he would be the luckiest man in the world when Cori agreed to marry him.
“Okay, I think this one is alright. What do you think?” Cori swept into the room, jolting Mark from his reverie. His mouth went dry and his heart sped up at the sight of the woman before him. This dress, number three, was stunning. Deep garnet, the dress was made of delicate lace, hugging Cori’s body in all the right places. The lining of the dress covered the crucial parts, leaving her glowing skin peeking through the material. With its long sleeves and high neckline, the dress was the perfect combination of classy and sexy, and the flare at the bottom added just enough style. Cori had twisted her locks into a purposely-messy bun, a few tendrils escaping to frame her heart-shaped face, and her makeup was subtle yet sophisticated. Mark was breathless.
“You don’t like it?” Cori asked, crestfallen. She took a step back and Mark reached out, grabbing her wrist. “Cori, my god, you look beautiful,” he said honestly. He pulled her into him, his large hands coming up to cup her face gently. She smiled up at him, her eyes glittering with happiness.
Mark led her over to a table where Cori had placed candid photos of their friends and family, picking up a small silver frame and handing it to her. The picture inside was of the two of them back in college, taken just after they’d completed a mud run on campus. Their smiles were contagious, pure joy reflecting from their faces. Cori grinned straight at the lens, while Mark was caught in profile, his gaze focused on the young woman beside him. When they’d moved in together, Mark had insisted on setting the picture out, even though Cori had put up a fight. “I look awful!” she’d exclaimed. But Mark had gotten his way, and every time he looked at it he was reminded of how much he loved her, as much back then as he did now, and how far they’d come throughout the years.
“Please tell me I don’t look like I did that day,” Cori laughed, staring down at their younger selves. She shook her head and set the frame back down in its spot on the table. “You know I hate the way I look in that picture.” Mark turned her to face him, brushing his fingertips over her cheek and smiling down at her.
“When I look at that picture of us, all I notice is how beautiful you are. I don’t see the mud and the sweat, or the ponytail, or whatever it is you see, Cor,” Mark said truthfully. “Every time I look at you, no matter what you’re wearing, or if you have makeup on, or your hair isn’t washed, all I can see is you, and you are absolutely gorgeous.” He stared into Cori’s eyes, willing her to believe just how amazing he thought she was. “So, in that blue dress, or the green one, or this one, or a muddy t-shirt, I’m always gonna think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Eyes glistening with tears, Cori grinned up at Mark, unable to believe that this wonderful man was actually hers. “Don’t make me cry, Collins. I can’t mess up my makeup,” she laughed, carefully swiping a finger under both eyes. She grasped Mark’s hand in hers, running her thumb over his knuckles. “Thank you, so much, Sweetie. I know I freak out about stupid, little things and I really appreciate you putting up with me. It’s nice to know no matter what I wear, you’ll still love me.” Cori crossed the room to grab a small clutch that she’d placed on the arm of the sofa and turned to face him. “Ready?”
Mark smiled softly and went to her, placing a hand on her lower back and guiding them to the door, anticipating spending tonight and, soon, the rest of their lives together. “As long as you’re beside me, Cor, I’m ready for anything.”