Chapter 48

Inside the store, he scanned the displays as if looking for something in particular. He stopped at an elegant display of silk blouses in a wide array of colors. He pulled out a pale blue one and held it against my skin. He shook his head and returned it to the rack.

For all his size and masculinity, he was reminding me of a toddler in a toy store. I had to laugh. "What exactly are you looking for?" I asked.

"I'll know it when I see it." He reached for a different blouse. This one was creamy white with a classic cut and little pearl buttons all the way down the front.

He held it up in front of me and nodded. "That's the one," he said.

I raised my eyebrows. "Is it now?"

He handed the blouse over. "Try it on. We'll see." He held up a hand. "No, wait."

"For what?" I said.

"You need a skirt," he said. "Something black. And short."

"Actually," I said. "I have one of those. Remember?" I'd been wearing a short black skirt the morning he'd shown up at Maddie's apartment.

He gave a slow nod. "Yeah. I remember."

That reminded me of something. "Where is that skirt, by the way?" I hadn't seen the thing since taking it off to shower a couple days earlier.

"Probably at the cleaners," he said. "It doesn't matter. We'll get you a new one."

"I don't need a new one," I said. "The old one's fine, really."

He flashed me a grin. "Hey, this stuff is for me. Remember?"

I gave him a dubious look. "You're planning to wear a skirt?"

"Sorry, no more questions," he said.

"You don't look very sorry."

"That's because I've been thinking about this for a while."

"How long?" I asked.

He stopped to give me a look that, I swear, made my toes tingle and core ignite. He leaned close, and his voice was nearly a caress. "I've been thinking about this since yesterday morning."

The words were completely innocent. And yet, all of a sudden, the store felt a whole lot hotter. I almost wanted to fan myself. No. I definitely wanted to fan myself. With his shirt. He'd just need to take it off and–.

From just behind me, I heard a crisp female voice say, "Can I start you a dressing room?"

I whirled around and nearly knocked over a nearby mannequin. Color shot to my face, and I stammered out, "Oh. Yeah. That'd be great. Thanks."

The clerk reached out for the blouse. "Here, let me take that for you."

"She'll need a skirt too," Jake told her. "Something black." His gaze dipped to my legs, still clad in those yoga pants. "Short, but not too short. Let's leave something to the imagination." He grinned over at me. "Right?"

Oh God. I was imagining all sorts of things right now. Wordlessly, I nodded.

Inside the dressing room a few minutes later, I studied my reflection in the mirror. The outfit was the infinitely respectable and yet somehow a lot sexier than I would have imagined. Before entering the dressing room, I had promised Jake I'd let him see me in it before I took it off.

Almost embarrassed, I opened the door to the dressing room and peeked my head around the corner. Jake was sitting in one of two chairs just outside the shallow dressing room hallway.

He looked up. "Do I get to see the whole thing?" he said. "Or just the collar?"

"I gave him a flirty smile. "I don't know. Don't you want to leave 'something to the imagination'?"

"Not that much," he said. "Smart-ass."

I moved forward, revealing the whole outfit. Jake gave a slow nod. The sales clerk appeared around the corner and stopped to look. "It looks like you have a winner," she said.

"Well, technically, it's for him," I said. "I'm just modeling it."

Ignoring the taunt, Jake turned to the sales clerk. "Got any scissors?" he asked. "She's gonna wear this out."

"I am?" I looked down at my tennis shoes. It suddenly occurred to me that this might explain why a few stores ago, Jake had insisted on buying me some black heels for no apparent reason.

When the clerk left to retrieve some scissors, I lowered my voice and told Jake, "You're awful devious. You know that, right?"

He reached into one of our shopping bags and pulled out the exact shoes I'd been thinking of. "Don't you know it," he said.

I was just slipping into the new shoes when the clerk returned with an oversized pair of scissors and started removing tags. When she finished, Jake accompanied her to the register while I ducked into the dressing room to grab the clothes I that had been wearing.

When I finished gathering them up, I sidled up to Jake at the register and paused. The clerk was ringing up second outfit exactly the same as the one I was now currently wearing. I gave Jake a perplexed look. "What's that for?" I asked.

Jake shrugged. "You seemed to like it. I figured you'd want a set for you, too."

"Oh," I said, conscious that the sales clerk was listening. "Thanks. That's really thoughtful." Even if it made absolutely no sense.

After Jake signed for the purchase, we headed straight to the car and hit this amazing Italian restaurant on the way back. Looking around the place, with its upscale décor and even more upscale patrons, I could see why my yoga pants weren't exactly appropriate.

We laughed all the way through dinner, about silly things ranging from the idea of him actually wearing that little black skirt to the pros and cons of schoolmarm-themed attire. So far, I was having the best day of my life.

It was funny too, because the day hadn't all been terrific. Parts of it had sucked pretty bad, actually. But the parts that were good? Well, those more than made up for it.

We were halfway through dessert when a stranger appeared at our table. It was an elderly lady in upscale, conservative clothes. I braced myself, wondering if I'd been laughing too loud at what Jake had just been telling me.

He had spent the last few minutes giving me a blow-by-blow, literally, about the first time he'd gotten thrown in jail for fighting. The story shouldn't have been funny. But the way Jake told it, even going so far as to mention that he'd lost a meatball sub in the cop car, I just couldn't stop laughing.

But now, looking at the lady standing beside our table, I clamped my lips shut and tried to look respectable. In college, I had worked at enough restaurants to know there always seemed to be that one obnoxious table, where people laughed way too loud and weren't nearly as funny as they thought they were.

Were we that table? God, I sure hoped not.

But when the woman started to speak, I knew that something else was going on entirely.