“We can revisit this conversation later,” I said, deflecting. “But first I have a favor to ask.”
“Sure.” She looked surprised but more curious than anything else.
“I only brought enough clothes for a few days and it looks like I’m going to be here a bit longer than that. Can you come shopping with me so I can pick up an extra pair of jeans and some sweats?”
“Oh, um, sure. The nearest mall is about half an hour from here, near where Connie lives. I don’t go there much but they’ll have everything you need.”
“Would you come with me?”
“I have to get to the rink.”
“Why? According to the schedule, the men’s leagues play tonight, but you said the people who come to watch don’t buy much, so why do you need to be there?”
She hesitated. “Well, as you’ve noticed, there aren’t many reliable employees so I tend to hang around to make sure everything goes smoothly.”
“And I appreciate that, but since you don’t have to, and you certainly don’t get paid enough to work that many hours, wouldn’t it be more fun to hang out with me today?”
“Hmm.” She pretended to be deep in thought. “Fun. What is this phenomenon you call fun?”
“It’s really cool,” I told her. “You forget about work and responsibilities, and you just hang out with someone you like for the whole day. Maybe even the night.”
“Is that what last night was?” She playfully cocked her head.
I chuckled. “Last night was doing a good deed for a friend. Today is having some actual fun while hanging out.”
“I suppose I could give this fun stuff a try,” she deadpanned. “But I might not be very good at it.”
“Don’t worry.” I winked. “I’m good enough for both of us.”
Chapter Ten
Noelle
* * *
I hadn’t been to the mall in a few years. I didn’t have the money to shop in those brand-name stores, usually hitting secondhand places when I needed something, and I mostly stuck to the small local shops in Garland Grove. I didn’t have any extra money today either, but at least I could enjoy watching Remy shop. And maybe I’d get to see him try on jeans. He was probably like most men, who bought clothes without trying them on, but it was still a fun fantasy.
We walked into Gap where he grabbed two pairs of jeans off a shelf, two pairs of sweats, and a couple of long-sleeve shirts. He didn’t look at anything but the size and turned to me with a grin.
“Wanna get matching flannel?”
“What?” I blinked in confusion.
“I was thinking you’d look cute in that—” He pointed to a green and black flannel shirt on one of the racks. “And they have one for guys too. We could be twins.”
I laughed. “You’re almost a foot taller than me and probably a hundred pounds heavier. I’m thinking we’re never going to be twins, no matter what we wear.”
“Come on, let’s see.” He pulled the shirt in question off the rack and tossed it at me before walking back over to the men’s section and grabbing a similar one. He put it on before I’d even moved and I shook my head, wondering how someone could look so hot in a flannel shirt.
“Fine.” I put it on and we stood next to each other in front of one of the mirrors.
“Totally twins,” he said solemnly. “I can’t even tell which of us is which.”
I burst out laughing. “You’re kind of dorky, you know that?”
“That’s a compliment, right?”
“Maybe.” I tried to keep things light so he wouldn’t see my inner struggle, but deep down I knew what he was doing. My clothes were old and ratty, so this was his way of buying me something new without making me feel bad.
For what felt like the hundredth time, I battled with my conscience. I wanted to spend time with him. Hell, I wanted to sleep with him. Even if I never saw him again, I wanted to know what it would be like to be intimate with him. Every fiber of my being told me it would be good, and there wasn’t a whole lot of anything good in my life. It wasn’t a question of morals, either, because I firmly believed a woman could enjoy sex with a man just because she wanted to. But this was different. The idea of sleeping with a man who’d just bought me clothes felt…wrong.
Had he noticed the holes in my socks? How old my bra was? I’d done my best to hide those things by taking them off in the dark, but he seemed to notice everything, and most of my clothes were old and worn. My jeans were ripped at the knees, I didn’t own a pair of socks that didn’t have at least one hole, and the soles of my winter boots were wearing thin. I had money in the bank, but that was so I could get an apartment at some point, and I’d wear everything I had until each piece fell apart before I dug into my nest egg.
If I was honest, I needed sex and companionship a hell of a lot more than I needed a new flannel shirt or socks, and Remy was the kind of man most women only ever dreamed about. He was tall and solid, with the body of a professional athlete. His shoulders filled the doorway of his room at the bed and breakfast, and the cropped dark beard on his face gave him an edgy look. His hair was such a dark brown it was almost black, which made his golden eyes stand out even more, and when he reached up to grab something from an overhead shelf, the muscles rippling in his arms made me wonder what he would look like naked.
I’d been thinking about seeing him naked a lot the last two days and was starting to feel like a teenager with a crush.
“So, what do you say? Matching flannel?” He interrupted my thoughts, and I shook my head.
“Are you trying to tell me you don’t like my clothes?” I asked, taking off the flannel shirt and handing it back to him.
“Not at all. I’m telling you I want us to match.”
“I live here,” I said lightly. “So I’m not the one that needs clothes.”
“Fine.” He gave in gracefully, putting the green flannel shirts back where he’d gotten them and grabbing a black hoodie. “Okay, then, I’m done.”
* * *
We walked around the mall a little while longer and I paused in front of a children’s shop, staring at the display window thoughtfully.
“Do Alexander and Daphne need clothes?” he asked before I could say anything.
“Alexander does. He’s growing so fast, even the pants she bought him at the beginning of the school year are starting to get a little short. I try to buy him fun things at Christmas, but this year I think I need to be more practical.”
“What if—” he began.
“Don’t.” I turned to him, holding out a finger. “I know you’re rich and can buy anything you want for anyone you want, but it’s hard for regular people like me and Connie to accept gifts like that. She let you pay for the plumber because that impacted the kids—being wet and cold is dangerous, especially in the winter—but the rest of the time we manage okay.”
“Do you?” He lifted one big hand and cupped the side of my face. “I like doing nice things for people. It’s the holidays and I’ve been incredibly lucky in business. Giving back makes me happy. Why won’t you let me?” His voice was filled with sincerity, and I sighed, though I couldn’t back down.