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The crowd meant staying tight behind her, the perfect place for soaking in the naturally sweet smell of her skin. He whispered in her ear, some things innocent, others, not so much.She’s mine, the actions said to anyone watching. Given Andie’s natural beauty and shapely figure, that was often. Let them look. When he caught guys checking her out, his chest swelled to what felt like twice its normal size. They could ogle her all they wanted—Andie belonged to him.
“This must be it.” He nudged her toward one of the larger booths, stocked floor to ceiling with brightly colored clothing. Miniature clothing.
She looked up at the hand-painted wooden sign. “Pawprints Clothing Company. When you said paw prints, I thought you meant pet products for the clinic.”
“Yeah, weird name. Shopping for the clinic would be easier. No, one of my buddies has a boy turning one. Apparently his wife loves this stuff and you can only get it here.” The salesgirl smiled at him, so he nodded, then pulledhisgirl into a proper hug. “Help me pick something, since the gift’ll be from both of us.”
The nod wasn’t enough to keep the young blonde clerk at bay, and she promptly floated over and hit them up with a pitch about quality and uniqueness, yada, yada, yada.
“And if you’re looking for the newborn items, they’re mixed in the racks by style, rather than being grouped by size. Most of our things are unisex, though we do have a few gender-specific fabrics if you know what you’re having.”
Mason kept his arm tight around Andie, who looked as if she’d been caught on one of those practical joke-type reality shows. “Thanks, but we’re shopping for a one-year-old, not a newborn, and not ours.”
“Oh—oh gosh, I’m sorry.” The girl’s fair skin turned solid pink. “I assumed you were expecting…” At Andie’s wide eyes, the pink changed to beet red. “Oh no, that didn’t come out right. You don’t look pregnant at all, it’s just that you’re obviously in love and you’re practically glowing, I thought you must be in your first trimester and… I’m going to sit over there behind the counter and hide until you need some help with sizes or patterns.” Walking away, she shook her head and mumbled something about how her boss was going to kill her.
Mason glanced around at what had to be hundreds of little outfits. “So, what do you think?”
“About having a baby?”
Whoa. Not the question he’d been asking. Still, this was a perfect opportunity to find out where she stood on having more kids. Specifically, with him. “Yeah.”
She fingered through a rack of puppy- and kitten-printed overalls, pausing at a tiny pair. “I’d love another child. I always wanted more, but…” She didn’t look at him while answering. For the first time since arriving at the farmer’s market, she let go of his hand and moved away.
No psychology degree needed to read between those lines. The more Mason learned about Scott, the less respect he had for the guy. Anybody who’d let Andie down in such a huge way deserved divorce papers. The day would come when they’d meet, he and Scott Finch. Not punching the fuckwad in the face was going to take effort.
For now, he shelved the baby conversation. They’d pick it up another time, privately. “What do you think of this stuff, see anything good for a rowdy one-year-old who eats sand and dog kibble?” he asked, joining her in front of a bunch of clothes displayed on an oversized wooden crate.
“Plenty.” Her smile returned. Smaller than before, but better than nothing. “Something with dogs on it, you think? An appropriate gift from the best vet in town.”
“And his girlfriend. Grab a couple of things so I can pay and we can get out of here.”
“Sowecan pay. If it’s from both of us…”
“You do the choosing and the wrapping. I’m paying.” Shit, she had her feisty face brewing. “This time, babe. By the next party you’ll know Josh and Jane and both their wild things better than you’ll ever want to. You can chip in for that one, if you want to.”
Apparently appeased, she shifted her attention to the clothes. “How old is their other child, should we pick up that present while we’re here?”
“Nah, we’ll come back another time.” Like next May, a week before that party rolled around.
“Anything to get out of here faster, right?”
“Out of here and closer to you, yeah.”
“Sounds good to me.” A couple of minutes later, she held up two hangers. “These okay?”
“Great.”
“You didn’t even look at them.” She laughed as he snagged them with one finger.
“Nope. I’m a guy.”
“Try a six-foot tower of solid testosterone.”
“Yeah?” He dropped Andie’s picks on the counter with a credit card on top. “What are the other two inches made of?”
The blushing clerk kept her head down while tallying their receipt. Unlikely she was missing a beat of his conversation with Andie, though, or the fact that he was caressing Andie’s incredible ass through the clingy dress.
She snuck her hand under his t-shirt. The long, perfect fingernails crossing his stomach made him shudder. “Those inches are made of cream and sugar, of course.”
