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My eyes jerk up, then narrow on the tall, slender blond making doe eyes at my mate. I’ve seen her several times around town and rubbed her belly for good luck. At the time, I assumed that it was good luck for her and her mate, but by the way she’s lustily creeping on my man, she’s still looking for her baby daddy.
Haut doesn’t seem to notice, though, as he wraps an arm around me. “We’re just here to look around and maybe pick up a winter jacket.”
The salesclerk—Heather, I think—turns to me and smiles uncertainly. “I’m not sure we have anything that will fit. All our clothes are adult size.”
My hands tighten on the sweater I hold while I contemplate murder.
Haut’s arm tightens around me. “We’ll just browse and let you know if we need help. Thank you.”
With a soft smile for him, she disappears into the back once more.
I lift my chin to glare up at him. “What kind of relations have you had with Heather?”
“Hillary,” he corrects with a low rumble. “And the only one I’m having relations with is you, so sheathe your claws.”
“Tone down your animal magnetism,” I snap. “It’s confusing the ovulating woman.”
That rumble comes from him again. “I enjoy seeing you jealous.”
“And I’d like to see you in this sweater.” I shove it against his chest. “Go try it on.”
He catches the sweater. “We’re not here to buy clothes for me.”
“You brought me to a place where your old lover works,” I growl. “You will try on anything I want you to try on.”
“Fine. But just one thing.” He allows me to shove him toward the curtain-covered changing room at the back. “Then we’re looking for clothes for you.”
I push him into the small, curtained-off room. “Why didn’t we just go to the bigger store down the road?”
“I wanted something nicer for you.” He catches the curtain before I can close it and leans down to kiss the tip of my nose. “And Hillary is not a former lover, so no clawing her eyes out.”
Slightly mollified, I give him a shove and whisk the curtain closed.
While he changes, I inspect the nearby racks. The clothes here really are nice, with expensive price tags to match. I pull several more shirts off their hangers.
My anticipation builds as I imagine him trying on different outfits. By the time Haut steps out from behind the curtain, my arms are loaded with several more options.
He stops to stare at me. “What’s all that?”
“We’re playing dress up, and you’re going to be my doll.” I inspect the way the green sweater clings to his shoulders and brings out his eyes. “Yes, we’re definitely getting that one. Put it in the buy pile.”
He stumbles back as I shove the rest of the shirts at him. “We’re not—”
“I want to see every single one you try on,” I announce before whisking the curtain closed once more.
His grumbles drift out as I wander over to the section with pants. Haut mostly wears jeans or sweats when he’s not in uniform. Pants are harder to pick out, though, since I don’t know his size.
The curtain swishes to the side, and Haut glares out at me.
The cream sweater he wears washes the sun-kissed gold from his skin, and I give it two thumbs down. “Next.”
As he continues to try on clothes, I rate them by excellence and gather a small pile of shirts that I like him in.
When he steps out in the last shirt, looking a bit annoyed, I admire how the deep brown of the sweater brings out the red and gold highlights in his brown hair.
I grin at him. “Two enthusiastic thumbs up.”
He huffs out a breath. “Have I tried on everything in the store yet?”
