“Some things don’t change, do they?” he asked, though he’d meant to ask himself.
“Like?”
“Just... Nothing.”
Except that some things did change. Like him being forced to look at Elsie and see a woman. So there was that.
“Thanks for dinner last night,” she said.
“Yeah.” He found it easier to think about last night than this morning.
“I just... I’ve never had anyone take me to dinner.”
He really didn’t want to get into the list of all the things Elsie Garrett hadn’t done. Or maybe he should. Maybe he needed a real stern reminder of all Elsie hadn’t done.
Like kiss anyone most likely. And for sure no sex.
That was supposed to get his mind right out of the gutter. Right off that dangerous path he was on and had been on since...
He couldn’t even say quite when.
Instead, it intrigued the hell out of him. Made his mind want to linger on it. On the implications.
He shook his head. “Come on, Els, let’s head back.”
When they got back to the barn, Ira Hodge, the owner of the place, was waiting for them and greeted them warmly. He told them all about the years he’d spent doing equine therapy and then invited them to use his table at the country club tonight. Which Hunter basically pretended to understand since he’d never seen a country club this side of a teen movie.
Hell, he’d committed to taking Elsie shopping, and now she’d have a place to wear a dress.
He ignored the warning alarm that sounded in his brain.
“A country club?” she asked when they were back in the truck and headed to the center of the city so they could shop.
“Yeah, well. Another dinner date.”
“Practice dinner date,” she pointed out.
“Yep.”
He imagined this was the kind of place that would at least require a jacket, so he’d be picking something up too. He took them to the kind of department store he’d normally never set foot in.
“You can find the women’s section, right?”
She nodded, but her eyes were wide and he had a feeling he ought to go with her. “I’ll meet you at the fitting room,” he said.
He made a straight line for the men’s suits and found a black jacket, pants and shirt, then headed in the direction Elsie had gone. But she wasn’t at the fitting room. She was frozen in front of a rack of dresses.
“Well,” she said when he approached her. “I looked at a price tag.”
He chuckled. “Yeah...”
“What the hell are they made out of, finely woven unicorn hair?”
“I think the label is supposed to impress you.”
“I’m not impressed.”
He moved past her and grabbed three dresses off the rack and handed them to her. “Here.”
“How do you know they’re my size?” she asked.
He looked at her, then at the dresses. “They’ll fit.”
“What, you just know that? Like you just know a woman’s body and...” Her cheeks went scarlet and then she hugged the dresses right to her chest angrily and stalked to the fitting room.
He tried the jacket on and figured he’d leave the rest up to chance. He was making sure he could move freely in it—he had broad shoulders and it made coats tough—when Elsie slinked out of the fitting room.
And it was like time slowed down.
She leaned against the door frame, and he looked her over. At the way the black dress hugged her figure like cling wrap, and ended midthigh, showing her long, toned legs and...for some damned reason it was the socks for him.
Her white socks, which came up to the middle of her ankles and which she’d left on for some damned reason.
“Hell,” he said.
He hadn’t meant to say it out loud and that was the second time today Elsie Garrett had created words in his mouth he had never meant to be there.
“Is it that bad?” She winced.
“What? Hell no. It’s... How can you look at yourself and think it’s bad?”
She blinked. “I don’t look like me. I look like I’m trying too hard.”
“It’s your body, Els. How could it look like anyone but you?”
It was just that he’d never really looked before. He’d never really known.
And he shouldn’t look now, because that wasn’t the point. Not of any of this. He was getting her dresses and creating confidence in her for Travis.
So Travis could put his hands on her and kiss her and well, shit, Hunter really didn’t like what he was doing. Sawyer should punch him in the face.
“I don’t know...”
“Get all three,” he said.
“I can’t.”
“I’m your boss and I’ll get them.”
“Well, that’s inappropriate.”
“I’m also HR.”
“You are not.”
“Elsie,” he said, his tone warning, “don’t argue with me. Not now, anyway.”
And by some miracle, she obeyed. Then she turned to go back into the dressing room and his eyes lingered for a little too long on her ass.
She paused, then turned back. “You look good too.”
“Guess we’re country club ready.”
She reappeared looking more manageably Elsie, and he took the dresses from her and paid, in spite of her protestations. “It’s all work stuff,” he said.
She’d grumbled anyway. And he’d made her choose a pair of shoes.
But Elsie grumbling was comfortable.
They went back to the motel and Elsie vanished into the bathroom and he took the opportunity to quickly change into the suit. And black had been the right choice because it went with his cowboy hat.
Elsie reappeared and it was like a gut punch. She had the black dress on with a pair of low black heels and as much as he’d liked the socks, the heels were something else.
“I don’t have makeup or anything.” She fiddled absently with her hair.
“You don’t need it,” he said.
She stopped fiddling.
“Well, thanks.”
“I’m serious. You look beautiful.”
And he shouldn’t have told her that. He didn’t need to be the one to tell her that, but he knew she was hungry for it and, well, it was true. So why not say it?