Page 18 of Rescuing Rosie
Rosie pursed her lips. ‘I know that. These were a present from a friend. They’re lovely and toasty but probably not thick enough.’
Dale glanced over. ‘Oh – Moomin socks!’
Rosie’s face broke into a smile. ‘Are you perchance a fellow fan?’
‘Totally. I was introduced to them by a Japanese girlfriend – they’re massive there. My favourite’s–’
‘Put your heel here, please,’ interrupted Ant.
Rosie looked at him, then back at Dale, who pulled a serious face and said, ‘Pay attention now, Rosie.’
She giggled.
‘The fuck’s a Moomin?’ said Madison, staring at Rosie’s feet.
‘A troll from Finland,’ said Rosie.
‘Oh, I get a lot of those,’ said Madison. ‘Haha.’
‘I like the Groke,’ said Dale. ‘Crazy-creepy. Rosie, which is your–’
‘Moving on,’ interrupted Madison, her tone of voice conveying the message her forehead could no longer manage.
‘Sorry, Madison,’ Dale said, returning his attention to the star. ‘Is it okay if I take off your socks?’
‘You canstartwith my socks,’ she said, tilting her head to one side and fixing him with a look. And then a pout.
For a moment – a very brief one – Dale was lost for words. ‘And now I need to find my own socks,’ he finally managed, ‘because you’ve just knocked them off.’
Rosie snorted, and Dale glanced sideways at her, giving her a wink. Her heart did a little flip.
There was a small sigh, and Rosie turned back to Ant, whose demeanour implied that everyone here was sorely testing his patience. The measuring tool tickled Rosie’s foot, but she gritted her teeth. If she giggled again, it would only confirm to this man that she was a brainless southern bimbo.
His head dipped over her foot as he read the measurement, and she noticed golden highlights glinting in his glossy light-brown hair. He looked up and said, ‘Size five, yes, but we’ll go a half size up to allow for thick socks and plenty of movement. Your feet will swell as you walk, and you don’t want your toes to rub.’
His eyes kind of matched his hair, she thought. Light brown, with golden flecks. It would be a nice face, if it ever smiled.
His eyebrows rose.
‘Sorry,’ she said, realising she’d been staring. ‘No, that wouldn’t be at all pleasant.’
‘Your right foot, please.’
She swapped, and his fingers were gentle as he measured the width.
‘Okay, five and a half it is,’ he said, standing up. He passed over a pair of thick woolly socks. ‘Can you put these on?’
Madison was walking around the shop with long, confident strides, giving the footwear the full catwalk treatment. As she headed away from Dale, he was transfixed, but his gaze was not on her boots.
He met Rosie’s eye, and his mouth twitched. ‘Well – if that doesn’t get our shop some exposure,’ he said, ‘fook knows what will.’
‘They feel great,’ said Madison as she headed back towards them. ‘You might say I have three perfect booties now.’ She slapped her right buttock before sitting down again.
‘Hell yeah,’ said Dale. ‘You sure put the arse into Grasmere, Madison.’
Rosie gasped, but Madison let out a belly laugh.
Veronica was staring at Dale thoughtfully. (Correction: all three of them were staring at Dale thoughtfully.) ‘Hey, Dale – how tall are you?’ she asked.
