No boyfriend has ever said anything that makes my heart race the way it does when he says stuff like that.
“I should try on the other clothes,” I say, turning to retreat into the dressing room.
He and Shanna are so laid back and low maintenance that I forget they come from the kind of money that’s intimidating to think about for too long.
Fitz finally releases my wrist, and I shove myself inside the dressing room before flicking the lock.
The metal bolt rattles as I lean against the door for support. My stomach still feels uncomfortable and kind of crampy. But I’m so focused on what the hell changed during this trip that it’s barely a thought in my mind. I can’t decide if I’m majorly misreading things because I want it to be true.
I exhale heavily, shoving myself off the door and stretching an arm back to handle the zipper. Only, it’s practically impossible to get down. I have no clue how I got it zipped alone, but unzipping without help isn’t happening.
I open the door, and Fitz is leaning against the wall with his booted foot up.
“I’m trapped,” I grumble.
My knees clench as a slow, sexy smirk crosses his face. It’s so unexpected that I take a step back as his dimples pop.
“Oh, Tinsel, I’ve got you.” God, I really love his accent when he calls meTinsel.He prowls closer, and I retreat even farther. He gives me a little shove, using his hands on my hips before turning back to close the door with his knee. He spins to face me and twirls a finger in the air, indicating I should give him my back.
The dress flies up as I face the mirror. My eyes catch his. He grins as his hands land on my hips, and he gives a solid squeeze.
“You’re always beautiful, but this dress looks like it was made for you. It makes the blue in your eyes pop. Don’t get me started on how it shows off your curves.” He moves a hand up to pull my hair to the side.
My eyes slide shut as a ragged breath escapes. Fitz’s warm breath fans over my neck, and he slowly unzips the dress. His huge hand slips around to my middle as he kisses my cheek.
“Such a delectable little omega,” he growls, nuzzling his cheek to mine. I’m left staring at the mirror in pure shock as the door closes behind him. “Don’t forget to lock it.”
* * *
I have a minor nervous breakdown when the sales associate tells me my total. I mentally calculate how much is available on my credit card before trying to decide how embarrassing it would be to put one or two of the items back.
“Sorry,” Fitz says, jogging up to my side. “All of this is together.” He drops the dress I picked out, along with a few other items that I didn’t.
My head tilts as I open my mouth to assure him I can buy my stuff. I’m a solid seventy-eight percent sure my transaction would go through.
Probably.
Fitz laughs, gripping my hip and pulling me into his side as he grabs his wallet with the other hand. Damn, I wish I had that kind of coordination. “It’s my treat for your birthday, remember?”
The fancy dress maybe, but the sweaters, onesie, pajama set, and comfy dress I picked out were not included in that. I’m about to spew all of that when Fitz swats my hip and ass, chuckling darkly.
He looks at the sales associate. “Ring it up quickly before she starts to riot.”
The woman laughs politely, but she still looks a little flummoxed over seeing the two of us together.
I barely hold back the urge to tell her,me too.
* * *
We browse a couple more stores and end up at an adorable little mom-and-pop restaurant. They tell us we can sit wherever we like, and I glance back for the security guy I know is following us.
“Should we invite him to eat with us?” I ask.
“No.” Fitz leads me to a booth in the back, and instead of sitting on the opposite side, he shoves our bags over there before sliding in on the same side as me.
I scoot back in the leather seat and turn to face him. It’s very hard for me not to ask what the heck is going on.
Fitz stretches past me to grab the menus as his left arm wraps around the back of the booth. Either his scent has gotten stronger recently or my response to it has.