“You’ll need a formal dress for the party,” I said, ready to wrap up. I had grown too comfortable with openly staring at her body. Her figure was a piece of art and every article of clothing suited her.
“Oh, it’s only October. We’ll have to come back. These dresses won’t work.”
“Excellent.” I stood up and rubbed my hands together. “We’re done.”
“Not quite. You had your way with me. Now it’s my turn.” She shoved the stack of clothes into my arm.
“Phrasing,” I mumbled unheard.
She led me to the men’s department and loaded her arms up with clothes I would have never bought for myself. She shoved me into a dressing room.
“And you will show me every single outfit. Every. Single. One.”
“This is humiliating,” I growled through the door.
“No, this is fun.” She cackled an over-the-top villain's laugh.
I ended up indulging her. It was easiest to let her win on some things. Battles need to be chosen. Also, I liked the way her eyes moved over my body when I came out in dark jeans and a fitted tee. I would never leave the house in it, but seeing her look me up and down bolstered my ego.
“Looks good, Ford. Looks real good.” She looked away and then added, “Those clothes are very flattering to your figure.” She stepped forward and ran her hands down my shoulders and picked off a piece of lint. “For a nerd, you sure have a lot of muscles.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re very judgmental of educated people.”
She tapped a finger on her bottom lip, ignoring my observation. “We just need to do something about those eyebrows and trim up your hair and beard.”
“You do know how to ruin a compliment.” But secretly I was proud of her self-correction. In fact, this whole shopping excursion had proven that she was a damn quick learner. I was a damn good teacher too.
“How old are you?” she asked breaking through my thoughts.
“Why?”
“No offense, I thought you were older than me. But in these clothes…”
“I’ll be thirty next June,” I said.
Her face paled. “Oh my God.”
“What?” I looked down at myself again. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m older than you.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that coughed out of me. “What?”
“I need to sit down.”
“How old are you?”
“I turn thirty in January.”
I scoffed. “Well, you’re ancient then.” But my tease did little to change her face. “Suzie, thirty is not old.”
“No, but it’s older than you.”
“And?”
“I don’t know.” Her look was still far away. “I don’t know why, but it bothers me.”
“Get over it.” I jostled her with my shoulder.
