Page 33 of Unholy Gambit: Checkmate in Blood
“Oh, I can do so with the best of them, but there’s a time and place for everything.”
The relationship books had stressed loving your partner as they are and not trying to change them, so he didn’t say anything. He didn’t like her cursing, but it sounded like he might have to accept it. Perhaps she wouldn’t do so very often.
He’d seen females shop before. He’d guarded them while they browsed. He’d killed them mid-aisle. His skillset meant he could be protector or executioner. The latter paid better, most days.
But never had he seen one enjoy it like this — with purpose, delight, and a hunter’s eye for detail.
She found five pairs of jeans for him to try on, four shirts, and three jackets. He’d have chosen one of each and tried them on if he’d been with anyone else, but for his Aurélie, he tried them all on — except the jeans with rhinestones, though he phrased it as the Rip character ripping the heart out of anyone who tried to put him into sparkly jeans, rather than Axel being the one to make a mess.
He’d just come out of the dressing room when he saw her texting someone, and he went into her head to see that her mom had asked her what she was doing in this establishment. Another peek, and he saw that her parents could see where her phone was at all times. That could present a problem, but for now, he focused on her response, which was that she was helping a friend find clothing so he could be Rip on Yellowstone for Halloween.
He didn’t want to be a merefriend, but her mother resolved the issue by asking who it was, and whether he was a friend or more.
And her response made his heart happy, when he couldn’t remember ever describing his heart as happy in his entire, long-assed life.
His name is Axel, and he might end up being more than a friend, but it’s too soon to say.
Her mom wanted to know where they’d met, and she told her he’d volunteered at the Haunted Swamp, and then told her hewas coming out of the dressing room, and they’d have to talk later.
“Your parents still keep close tabs on you,” he noted when she looked up.
Her face turned an adorable pink, but she shrugged and told him, “I can see where they are, too. It’s comforting, knowing where they are, and knowing if something happens to me, they’ll know where to look for me.”
He’d been considering telling her where his rental house was, but with this in mind, he was less inclined to do so.
Knowing her instructions when he’d tried other choices on, he turned in a circle and faced her again.
“I like this shirt best,” she said, “but the second pair of jeans. What do you think?”
“None of this is my style, so I’ll defer to your judgment.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, that shirt goes on the hook with the second jeans, and those can go in the discard area.”
When he’d tried everything on, she wanted him to put her choices on all together, and he just stared at her. Everyone has their limits.
Five seconds passed, and she shrugged. “Fine. We need to pick out a belt and tacky buckle.”
The buckle was so far beyondtacky, he almost expected it to come with its own theme music. He couldn’t fathom why mortal men would want something that loud a few inches above their dick — maybe as a warning, maybe as misdirection — but he knew it fit the character, so he nodded at it.
But if anyone he knew from previous centuries saw him in it, he’d have to kill them. Quietly. Without fuss.
She looked over all the boots and told him, “I know where to find the ones I want for you, but…” She looked at the shelves again and back to him. “The ones that will work here are nearly two hundred dollars, and they’ll be fine. In fact, these are thesame brand the websites say Rip wears, but for the fancy ones, the name-brand kind? We’ll have to go across the river, and they’ll be more like nine hundred dollars, which I’ll pay for if you let me, but…”
She looked terribly uncomfortable, so he stepped to her, pulled her into his arms, and gently kissed her forehead. “If I’m going to be Rip, it seems I need the right boots. If these are his brand, we’ll get them.”
“I mean, have you ever in your life worn cowboy boots? It isn’t like you’ll ever wear them again, and most people won’t know the difference between these and the name-brand ones.”
There was clearly something he was missing, and all he could get from her thoughts was a chaos of contradictions about cost since he was being stubborn and not letting her pay for them, mixed in with realism versus wanting to put him in the very best.
“Will they be more comfortable? I have shoes that cost thousands,” he looked at his feet, “but these are my favorite. They only cost around three hundred dollars, if I remember correctly, but they’re built on a sneaker base. Dress shoes must match the clothes, but I prefer comfort, no matter the cost to get the right look along with a good fit.”
She nodded. “Yeah, Zerogrand Wingtip Oxfords, I recognized them.” A sigh. “Supposedly, the Lucchese boots will be more comfortable, but I honestly don’t know.”
“Okay then, I’ll try the ones you like here, and then we’ll head across the river to try some on there. If I like these better, I’ll have Tariq purchase them for me tomorrow during the day. I’ll take a picture of the correct ones, as well as the box with the name and size, so he’ll be sure to get the correct boots.”
“I don’t think I’ve explained properly. These are fine, but if you want to impress my friends, the Lucchese will do that. Also, if you think you might want to wear them in the future, the Lucchese are definitely more your style. These are actual workboots, made for riding and shoveling hay and whatever else ranch hands do. The others are dress boots.”
Ah. That cleared up the confusion. She wanted him to impress her friends, so that’s what he’d do. “Okay then. Let’s check out here and head across the river. No need in trying these on.”
