She cleared her throat. “I was just trying to figure out where we’re going.” Not a total lie. When it came to shopping, she generally stuck to two or three secondhand stores over in East Carrollton for shopping.
“To the mall.” He turned off Poydras Street and drove past Spanish Plaza. For a second, she thought he was going to pull into the Nordstrom Rack just south of the plaza. When he kept on driving, her panic eased a fraction and she let out a relieved sigh. “You know, malls are full of people. Annoying people.”
“Yes. And full of options for you to choose a coat from as well.”
See? Totally the same bossy dude, but also courteous and kind. “But it’s mass humanity. Lots and lots of people in a confined space.”
“Then we will find you a coat quickly and move on to the rest of our day.”
“We have more on our agenda?”
“Yes.”
She opened her mouth to pry him for more, but nearly choked when he pulled into the parking lot for the Shops at Canal Place.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit!
She wiggled in her seat. “Um. I don’t think this place is going to have my style.”
The surprise and concern on his face was so genuine, it would have made her laugh out loud if she hadn’t been close to a full-on freak-out. “But all of the best stores are here.”
“All of the most expensive stores are here.” She motioned to her jeans and T-shirt. “I’m kind of a bargain basement gal, if you haven’t noticed.”
Comprehension registered on his face, but rather than turn the truck around he smiled and shrugged. “You do not need bargains now. You will have the best.”
Oh, brother. This was a disaster waiting to happen. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and thumbed up the mall’s directory on her web browser. Maybe a little proactive searching would get them in and out faster. She clicked on J. Crew.
Ugh. No.
Banana Republic?
Better, if she stuck to the casual stuff. But still a little tailored for her tastes.
Ohh...the Anthropologie place looked cool. She punched on the link for coats and—“Are you fucking kidding me? Who pays $450 for a coat?”
Having found a parking space big enough to accommodate his massive truck, Roman put the gear shift in park, frowned at the phone in her hands and leaned over for a better look. It was a mix of Sherpa and denim with a faux fur panel in the middle. “You like it?”
“Well, yeah. It’s cool looking, but not $450 cool looking. That’s insane.”
He straightened, shook his head and grunted before opening his door. “We will see.” Other than that, he kept his silence the whole way into the mall, his steps determined and his expression utterly unfazed by the environment around him.
Bonnie hustled to keep up with him, which was no easy task when a girl wanted to gawk at the same time. “Seriously? They need three floors worth of stores?” She craned her head toward the long skylighted ceiling overhead which only made the place look even grander. Planted at irregular intervals on every floor were pretty sizable palm trees to balance out the never-ending rows of ivy. “You sure we don’t need a map? Or breadcrumbs?”
Roman steered her left at the glass-and-mirror elevator. “There is no need. We are here.”
The Saks Fifth Avenue logo stretched large and lovely in front of them.
Bonnie stopped dead in her tracks and eyed the fancy counters just beyond the entrance and the perfectly coifed salesclerks working behind them.
Stopping just a step away from her, Roman faced her. “What is wrong?”
She dipped her head toward the sign. “That place is wrong.”
“Why?”
There had to be a good reason. She was reasonably sure she could come up with something logical if the little minions in her head would stop pulling every panic lever they could find. “I don’t know.” She shrugged and took another step back. “Because it just is.”
His expression softened. His words, on the other hand, were designed to rile and challenge. “Surely you are not afraid to merely look.”
“Who said anything about being afraid?” She scoffed and crossed her arms. “More like being practical.”
“As am I.” He prowled the two steps to her side and lowered his voice. “My woman needs a coat. Something that will last and that is well made.” He splayed his palm low on her back and nudged her forward. “And so, we start in a place that will give her both.”
Fighting him wasn’t an option. Not without digging in her heels like a stubborn three-year-old and throwing a fit. Still, just because she went in the store didn’t mean that she had to like anything. She’d just have to be indifferent. Make sure her eyes didn’t linger on any particular item too long.
They were two steps beyond the entrance when she grumbled aloud without thinking. “Holy shit, the place even smells good.” Realizing what she’d admitted, she tacked on a little extra snark. “Probably some kind of shopping narcotic that makes people spend money on expensive shit they don’t need.”
Roman chuckled at that, but kept scanning the huge space—presumably for the coat section. He must’ve found it, because his eyes narrowed the way a hunter’s would when an innocent deer tottered into view and prodded her back into motion.
The bad news? The coat section was all the way at the back of the store, which meant she got a serious load of all the clothes along the way and, son of a biscuit eater, Saks had some cool stuff. She thought for sure they’d have little old lady and uptight duchess stuff on every rack.
By the time they got to the coats she was slightly out of breath and seriously doubting how good of a poker face she could muster. Roman paused at the edge of the ridiculously large outerwear section and motioned her forward. “Go. Find one.”
Jesus. She’d make it all of two racks in without a longing sideways glance at something. Except maybe the puffer jackets. They always made her feel like the Michelin Man. She ambled that direction and feigned a bored expression.
Black puffer.
Brown puffer.
Electric blue retro puffer.
No, no, no, Bonnie. Keep moving. Puffers make you look fat.
By some miracle from on high, she managed not to hesitate and kept going. Roman walked the aisle parallel to her and pretended to look as well, but she knew damned well he was watching. The same way he’d watched everything about her since she’d woken up this morning.
Fuzzy puffer. A cool leopard print one, but still high on the bulky side.
Eww. A rainbow puffer. Definitely not her thing. She shook her head, turned for the next row—and froze. Now, that was a coat. Why it was in the puffer section was beyond her because it was more of a biker jacket cut at a three-quarter length, but done in a kickass shiny ivory leather. The spread lapel was a thick shearling that just begged her to run her fingers over it and the zipper was asymmetrical.