Page 78 of Between Regrets and Promises

And I drove myself right to it.

Once we’re inside, Sophie’s eyes light up like a kid in a candy store. This place is insane.

“Well?” she asks, looking up with a knowing smirk.

“I’m regretting every decision I made that’s brought me here.” I deadpan, glancing at the aisles that never seem to end.

“Liar,” she says. “You guys could use some new shit in your house anyway.”

“Why do I have a feeling we’re about to go on a fat ass shopping spree?” We walk farther into the store, then grab two carts.

Sophie giggles, and I follow her lead.

We head to the bedding first, and the options are overwhelming, to say the least. Sophie looks through them all, taking her time, but her eyes widen when she checks the prices. “Soph, stop stalling.”

“I’m not,” she says without looking at me.

“What about this one?” I ask, pointing at a solid gray comforter set. “Matches the headboard of the bed.”

She squints at it, pursing her lips left and right. “It has no personality.”

“Okay then.” I chuckle. “What kind of personality does your bed need?”

Sophie glances over her shoulder and glares. “I meantmypersonality. Your bedroom should reflect you and your happy place. When things in your life are shit, you should find solace inyour room, surrounded by the belongings that bring you peace. That’s what I want my bedroom to be. Somewhere I feel safe and comfortable.”

Safe and comfortable.That’s exactly what I want for her.With me.

“So not the gray?” I tease, needing to lighten the mood before I choke on the tension between us.

She steps closer and smacks my arm. “You’re such a guy.”

After searching for another ten minutes, Sophie squeals when she finds a pattern with Eiffel Towers surrounded by Paris written in pink script. The cream-colored background is pretty, but I don’t tell her that.

“Is that the one?” I ask, eager to move to the next section of the store so we can get the hell out of here.

“Yes! I love Paris! Well, the idea of it. I’ve never been. But it’s my dream destination vacation.”

I grab the handle of the bag and haul it into my cart. “Perfect.”

Sophie bites down on her lower lip, then meets my gaze. I know she hates that she needs help and didn’t ask, but I’m offering anyway. “What’s next?” I question, hoping to snap her out of her overactive thoughts.

“I need some pillows,” she says.

“Lead the way.”

An hour later and after a lot of convincing, Sophie has new pillows, a lamp with an Eiffel Tower as the base, and a few décor items. Then she forced me over to the kitchen area. As long as we weren’t shopping for her specifically, she was all about it. Now, I’m the proud owner of a twelve-piece set of dinner plates with four ceramic mugs to match, a paper towel holder that apparently suits the counters better, and some kind of silverware organizer contraption. After all that, Sophie dragged me to the bathroom section and picked out a set of oversizedsuper soft bath towels. When I spotted an Eiffel Tower shower curtain, I threw it into the cart too, which made her grin ear to ear.

Just as we push our two carts toward the checkout, I see my aunt out of the corner of my eye rushing toward me. I inhale a sharp breath, knowing I’m about to get hounded.

“Mason!” she squeals, then pulls me in a hug. She’s my dad’s sister, which should be awkward, considering how my relationship with my father, but she gives him enough shit for me to know she doesn’t always like him either. “It’s been a while, kiddo. How’ve you been? You doing okay?”

She gives me a look that tells me she knows what’s been going on behind the scenes. She might not always get along with her brother, but she works in politics too, and they all talk.

“I’m fine.” I give her a reassuring smile so she doesn’t say what’s really on her mind. “This is my aunt Sylvia.”

My aunt grins.

“This is Sophie, my?—”

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