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Stacy, that was her name. It just came to me. She appeared.
Grant hooked a thumb in my direction. “We’ll take that and another set like it as well as a coat and boots,” he said.
He followed Stacy to go find those things as I turned back and fumbled through the pile until I heard Grant say, “Here’s my card.”
I dropped everything and jogged to the register. “I can pay for my own clothes,” I said, pulling my wallet out and producing a credit card.
I felt sweat form on the back of my neck, as I hadn’t looked at the total until after I gave her the card. I was close to maxing out my balance and wasn’t sure it would go through. I might have let out an audible sigh when the flirtatious Stacy who hadn’t stopped smiling at Grant handed me my card back.
Then she approached with scissors and I nearly put my hands up prepared to fight.
“Grant said you’d be wearing this out,” she said with a weariness in her gaze.
I glared at Grant. “You sure are bossy.”
“We’re out of time, Highness.”
Stacy’s eyes bounced between us and I nearly rolled mine. She was coming to the wrong conclusion. There was absolutely positively nothing between him and me.
He picked up the puffy coat with the fur trim and held it out so I could shrug into it. I might have stood my ground, but I remembered my grandmother and my promise to her. Now was not the time to make a stand.
I put on the coat and took the bags Stacy handed me.
“Thank you,” I said.
Grant had spun around and marched toward the door, expecting me to follow.
“You’re welcome. Do good by our boy,” she said with a huge grin.
Once again, I was thwarted from responding as Grant barked out, “Let’s go, Highness.”
She only grinned harder and my cheeks burned as I dashed after him.
Once in the truck, he demanded, “Put the boots on.”
“I didn’t try any on.”
“They should fit,” he said and focused on the limited view out of the window as the wipers tried and failed to remove the snow that was heavy and wet.
I did and was surprised they fit as he said. Pride kept me from asking how he’d known my shoe size.
We didn’t drive long before he pulled over again. “Wait here.”
Then he was gone. Minutes later, he got back into the truck and handed me a bag that smelled delicious.
“Burgers and fries. I hope you like the fixings.”
“I’m not picky,” I said.
Years at boarding school made me open to whatever food was available if I wanted to eat.
“That’s good to know.”
I sighed. “I thought we were in a truce.”
“We are. Sorry. Can you hand me a burger?” he commanded.
“Do you think that’s wise while driving?”
