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Whereas, since he was effectively her bodyguard at the moment, he could focus on her. “Do you miss not working as much?” She knew he prized his position.
“If you’d asked me in advance if I would, I’d have said yes.”
“But you don’t?”
“No. I like that we’ve been able to spend the extra time together. It’s made it easier for us to get to know each other. And it would have frustrated me to have to trust someone else to watch over you lately. I wouldn’t have trusted them to be as vigilant with your safety as I am.”
“In all honesty, I wouldn’t have either.” She turned her head at a loud, “Ho, ho, ho.” It came from a guy dressed as Santa who was striding around with a bucket, collecting money for a charity.
Returning her attention to Isaiah, she saw that he was staring at her, his expression soft and warm. “What?” she asked.
He shrugged. “It’s just nice to know that you trust me to keep you safe.”
She wasn’t sure when exactly that trust had solidified in her gut, but it was there. This man would never purposely harm or neglect her—Quinley believed that with everything in her. Her cat agreed, the animal’s faith in him an unshakable thing. “I thought you already knew that.”
“I was pretty sure you did, but I wasn’t certain until now. It’s nice to have it confirmed.” A wicked little glint lit his eyes. “You could confirm something else for me.”
She felt her brows pull together. “What?”
“I noticed a store bag in our closet earlier. It had fallen off a shelf, and its logo was of a lingerie brand. I didn’t peek inside it, but I would like to know if I’m right in guessing there are some kind of Christmas-themed underwear in there.”
It took effort to keep her expression unreadable. “Why would you guess that?”
“I heard bells jingling when I lifted the bag and placed it on a shelf.”
Busted. “You’ll just have to wait and see,” she said with a haughty sniff—a mistake, because it drew the scents of meat, pizza, spicy foods, and fresh bread that were wafting from the nearby foot court right into her lungs. “Those smells are making me hungry.”
His brow furrowed. “We ate dinner half an hour ago.”
“You always seem to think that will make a difference to my appetite. I don’t understand.”
Sighing, Isaiah faced forward again. He squinted and then tipped his chin at something up ahead. “Is that the store you want to go to?”
Tracking his gaze, she smiled. “That’s the one.”
They made a beeline for the toy shop. Its door was wedged open, so they stepped straight inside. A woman heading in their direction did a double-take at the sight of all that was Isaiah. Very common. The attention of both genders often got snared by him.
Hell, a woman had almost tripped over her kid’s stroller earlier in an effort to get a better look at him. Quinley’s cat had hissed at her, unimpressed.
“Which way are we headed?” he asked, situating himself in front of her—again protecting her from the crowds, the sweetheart.
“East,” she replied, hooking a finger around the loop of his jeans waistband. Regardless of how crowded the store was, there was no skirting and pausing and sidestepping with Isaiah—just a smooth, purposeful walk that said people moved to let him pass.
Quinley couldn’t help but smile at the sight of a little girl trying to drag her mother to a mountain of plush bears—she was so tiny that the mom didn’t move an inch, but the kid didn’t stop pulling.
“That little girl over there reminds me of—” An oof flew out of Quinley as Isaiah abruptly stopped dead, causing her to bump her nose on his back. “Ow.”
Rubbing at her nose, she frowned. He’d frozen. Frozen from head to toe.
Skirting around him, she peered up at his face. It was hard as stone. She followed the path of his gaze to see what he was so focused on. A couple stood several feet away hemming and hawing over a padded baby playmat, and the woman was resting a hand on her slightly swollen belly.
A painful realization crept up insidiously on Quinley, making her stomach roll and clench hard. Lucinda. It had to be Lucinda and her fiancé.
Her inner cat went ballistic, hissing and pacing. The animal was furious that the woman was close to him. Furious at having to be so near to her. Furious by the hurt that came over Quinley.
Breathing through her cat’s turmoil, Quinley concentrated on Isaiah. She curled her fingers around his bicep and tugged. “Come on, let’s go.” He didn’t protest, he let her lead him out of the store.
Examining his expression, she saw that it had lost its hardness. Now, it was blank. Utterly unreadable. “So. That was her, huh?”
