Page 68 of Flare

I snorted. Short and sweet, but it pretty much covered the essentials. “Can we just assume I’ve got the message now and lay off the not-so-subtle threats?”

Kip clapped me on the shoulder. “In your dreams, sunshine. But since Rhys is cooking for you tonight, I thought I’d be nice and drop Jack home. Carrot and stick, right?”

I chuckled. “A winning combination. And thanks. How’s the store doing this week?”

Kip winced. “Not great. Sales are still tracking down. And with a couple of missing shirts in the mix, it’s been our worst in the last month. Shoplifted most likely.”

“Shit. I thought the Fashion Week promotion was supposed to be sending people here in droves?”

Kip nodded, keeping his eye on a customer who was meandering from rack to rack, looking a bit lost. “Can I help you?” he offered. The man shook his head and Kip turned back to me. “Yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to work, and itwaslooking promising last month.Thismonth we’ve had numbers through the store, just not the sales to match. But I’ve come up with a theory.”

“And?” I spread my hands.

He tapped his nose. “Not yet. I’ve got some work to do today, and then I’ll talk to Rhys. It might require a bit of weekend skulduggery.” He eyed me up and down. “Would you be up for that?”

My mouth curved up in a grin. “Skulduggery, huh? Absolutely. Anything to put a smile on hisface.” I nodded to where Rhys carried yet another bundle of hangers into the change rooms and Kip’s smile turned soft.

“How would you feel about Jack helping as well?”

“Just name the time and place.”

“Great.” He reached up and scritched my beard. “By the way, this new look is definitely working for you.” He indicated the two men staring our way.

“Pfft, they’re not looking at me.”

“Oh, they definitely are, sugar.” He patted my cheek and headed off to do his thing.

An hour later found Rhys and I ensconced at each end of his couch, his socked feet resting in my lap as he worked on a sketch while I flicked through some marking, and Valentino sprawled between us—a sharp-clawed cockblock. The whole scene reeked of contented domesticity, and every now and then my hand would gravitate to stroke his ankles or slide under the hem of his jeans.

I shook my head. How the hell was this my life? “You’re staring at me again.” I glanced over with a smile.

“There’s a lot to stare at.” Behind those sexy-as-fuck glasses, he ran an appreciative eye over my body, sighed happily and then went back to his sketching.

“Can I see what you’re working on?”

He stared at me for a second, then scooted over, sending Valentino leaping to the floor. “It’s an idea for a collection that blurs the lines of gendered clothing.” He flipped the pages enthusiastically. “See.” He pointed to a pair of trousers with cascades of material like a waterfall, layered from hip to calves.

“And this is a more hip-hop style.” He flicked to what I now recognised as harem-style pants, overlaid with a skirt. The pants were bunched at the ankles with crossover thigh panels layered in zips.

“I like that one.” I indicated a black kilt style with leather straps and a silver buckle.

“Really?” He leaned back with a considered expression. “Yeah, I can see you in that.”

My eyes bugged. “Wait, I didn’t—”

He cut me off with a laugh. “But maybe not this.” He flipped to a Japanese-inspired full-length split-front skirt in silver fabric and cinched with a wide black band at the waist and black under trousers.

“No! Definitely not. Although, okay, it’s cool.”

His mouth quirked up. “Glad you think so. I value your opinion.”

I almost swallowed the pen I was chewing on. “Now you’re just being nasty.”

“No, it’s true.” He stared at me. “You might know zip about fashion, but youradmittedlysometimes-confronting opinions help me look at things more critically.”

I snorted. “After you’ve smoothed your ruffled feathers, of course.”

He flushed. “Well, there is that. I’m just saying it’s good to see what I do through eyes that are less invested.”

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