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“But still!” I giggle. “Freddie Krueger is coming, just you wait!” We laugh together companionably then. At this point, the relationship is well-settled. My parents have met Damon, and my closest friends have listened to me talk about him ad nauseum. Patty and Lina haven’t met my boyfriend in person yet, but I’m planning to host an official meeting at my apartment when everyone’s available.
But today, we decide to visit the mall near his place. I told Damon off-hand that I wanted to look for a new romper, and he jumped at the chance to buy me something. He’s already spent a ton on me what with the flowers, jewelry, and meals out, but he’s also spoiled me in ways that I never thought I’d ever experience, like savoring my curves and whispering compliments about my body at every turn.
As a result, I feel a lot more confident about my physique now. When we get into his truck, I’m dressed in a baby blue tube top, as well as a flirty white mini-skirt. I never used to dress like this, but my boyfriend loves it.
“You like, Daddy?” I tease while jiggling my breasts flirtatiously. His blue eyes go hungry as the truck doors slam shut.
“Damn right,” he growls. “If we weren’t on our way out, I’d have you over my knee and screaming.”
I merely giggle as he starts the car.
“We can do that when we get back,” I coo. “I look forward to it.”
With that, the drive begins and I gaze out the window happily. It’s a sunny day, and I’m enjoying my time with my love. When we arrive at the mall, I take his hand and lace our fingers together, looking up at Damon’s handsome profile. My boyfriend needs a shave, and his hair has grown out to his collar, but I’m not in any hurry to get him to a barbershop. I like the rugged look, and paired with the fierce intensity in his blue eyes, Damon could pass for a mountain man in the wild. He just needs an axe and a red plaid shirt.
He looks down at me sideways, those blue eyes hot.
“What are you looking at, bun?”
“Oh, nothing special,” I say, flipping my hair over my shoulder. “Just the most gorgeous man on the planet.”
He snorts and raises my hand to his lips. “Speak for yourself, beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing my fingers. “By the way, I know we’re here to look at clothes for you, but do you mind if we stop by the men’s store first? I need a new belt.”
“You mean I have to wait to do my shopping?” I give him a fake pout. “What if I can’t hold out that long? How long will you be? Three hours?”
He grins. “I’m sure you can wait a few minutes while I find a new belt, bunny.”
I bump him with my hip. “Alright, alright. I guess I’ll allow a little detour.”
We stroll across the mall to a men’s boutique that Damon likes. The store sells boots, belts, fringe jackets, and wallets, and honestly, none of it is really my style—or Damon’s, for that matter. He likes country rock and bluegrass, but unlike half the men in Wyoming, he’s never been into the whole cowboy aesthetic. I’m glad. As handsome as he is, I don’t think he’d look right in a ten-gallon hat and spurs. He’s more of a black t-shirt, black jeans type of guy.
But surprise surprise, my boyfriend finds a belt that he likes (a black one, of course) almost immediately, and we get in line to pay for it. As we wait for our turn, I gaze out of the store toward the food court. My eyes widen, and my mouth begins to water. There’s a pretzel stand directly across from us, and I tug at Damon’s hand and point at it, a coquettish smile spreading across my face.
“It’s been forever since I had a soft pretzel,” I say. “Want to share one with me?”
He sees where I’m pointing and grins. “Sure, bun.” He reaches in his wallet and passes me a twenty. “Get whatever flavor you like and a lemonade.”
I blush as I take his money. “You don’t have to because it was my idea. I can pay for the pretzel myself.”
He waves my words away. “Don’t be silly, bunny. I got you, and I like doing it.”
I nod and get up on my tiptoes to kiss his square jaw. “I’ll be back soon.”
I leave the store and skip over to the pretzel stand, my mouth already watering. But as I approach the delicious twists, a wolf-whistle rings through the air. My head swivels involuntarily. Who just did that? Was that aimed at me?
Sure enough, there’s a man in a neon orange snapback cap sitting on a bench nearby. I wouldn’t have noticed him except that the neon cap is horrendous, and because he’s so obviously sizing me up. I resist the urge to tug at the hem of my short skirt or to adjust my baby blue tube top. With my lush figure, I’ve gotten this sort of attention before, but it still makes me self-conscious.
