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Both women are gaping at me, but I couldn’t care less. I’m over this place. Patricia is ruining the fun of picking out clothes for Greer, and I don’t have any more desire to spend my time in her presence. I also really don’t want her around Greer with her slutty attitude.
For once, Greer keeps her mouth shut.
“Ring those up,” I tell Patricia as I steer my girl back toward the bench by the dressing rooms. She collects her purse while I pocket my phone, and then we both head to the register. Patricia is no longer smiling or flirtatious, and that works just fine for me.
She rings everything up and tells Greer the total while one of the other employees carefully folds and wraps everything up before bagging it. Greer hands over a black credit card while I balk at the total.
Jesus Christ. She hasn’t even gotten that much stuff yet and I’m already sweating at the cost. I’d have to work all summer to earn that much at the resort, but Greer doesn’t even bat an eye.
I pick up the bags and usher Greer out of the store with another sour look from Patricia and a bright, “Have a nice day!” from her employee.
“Why don’t we drop these off at the car and then hit up the next shop?” I suggest, really not looking forward to carrying a bunch of bags around from store to store while we collect more to add to the load.
Greer points to a shop across the street. “That’s the name of another one my mother mentioned this morning. Let’s get it out of the way.”
“Sure,” I mumble as I beep the locks on the car and open the trunk. I drop the bags in, and we head across the street.
“Hello!” a chipper voice calls out as we step inside the next shop and are immediately blasted with cool air. I already like this place way better than the last one.
Greer introduces herself to the chipper woman and is immediately led back to a curtained off area. Much like the last place, there’s another rack of clothes here that have been set aside for Mrs. Manning’s daughter.
Greer begins to try things on while the woman brings me a cold bottle of water and a glass of ice that she sets on the table beside the loveseat I’m sitting on.
When she asks me if there’s anything else she can help me with, an idea hits me, a naughty one. On the way back here we passed an entire section dedicated to lingerie. Greer had blushed sweetly and tried to look everywhere else, but I’d caught the pink high on her cheeks.
“You have all her measurements, yes?”
“Yes, of course. Mrs. Manning’s assistant was very thorough.”
Assistant? I hide my snort behind my hand. Of course the woman hadn’t actually taken the time to set this up for her daughter herself.
“Great. Well, she’ll need undergarments for everything. If we could pick them out while she tries on those clothes, that would be excellent. We’re in a bit of a time crunch, and she’s a little shy. I’ve agreed to help her out today, that’s partially why I’m here.” A little white lie never really hurt anyone.
The woman’s smile brightens as she leads me back to the lingerie section. A wicked smile curves up my lips at the thought of Greer wearing panties I’ve picked out for her. I can’t touch, but there’s no harm in letting my imagination run a little wild, right?
Yes, shopping isn’t so bad after all, especially not when it’s with Greer Manning.
Greer
“Where are we going?” I ask from my place on the bench seat up front with Matt. He surprisingly didn’t even try to put up a fuss when I climbed into the front seat with him instead of getting into the back all by myself.
My feet hurt, I’m hungry, and I’m all kinds of cranky. Shopping takes the life right out of me, and we just spent three hours in the shops on Main Street and a whole lot of my parents’ money on enough clothes and shoes and bullshit to last me all the summers for the rest of my days.
Matt never once complained, and he’s been sweet to me all day. I’m not sure what kind of game he’s playing or what sort of personality disorder he has, but I forgave him hours ago.
Now he’s driving in the opposite direction of the resort, and all I really want to do is go home and take a nap—after I eat my weight in something, of course. Some carbs, probably, to my mother and sister’s chagrin.
Matt’s hand lands on my thigh and he squeezes gently. I try not to read too much into that touch, sure it’s part of his effort to get off my shit list. And his touchisn’taffecting me in the slightest. Or at least that’s what I’m trying to tell my body.
“Relax. It’s been a long day, and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I was going to take you to Star Cove so we could eat on the boardwalk, but it’s later than I thought and we don’t have time for that now. I’ll take you there another time though, promise. Maybe at night. It’s almost magical at night, with all the rides lit up and the happy people wandering about the pier.”
Okay. Relax, he says, as if it were easy with his hand on me and the subtle, manly scent of his cologne drifting to me. It’s kind of citrusy and fresh.
I have to work hard not to look at his broad shoulders, his big, strong hands on the steering wheel—well, at least one of them—and the defiant curve of his lips when he smiles at me.
Talk about a change of heart. And why is he still touching me? Not that I mind, it feels nice, but he’s making me nervous. Yeah, was I trying to avoid looking at him? Damn, it isn’t working. Matt is as handsome as Brady and Drew.
My stomach fills with butterflies as his thumb draws slow circles over my dress, moving dangerously close to the inside of my thigh.
