Shannon’s eyes softened, but a shadow passed behind them before she slid her palm over her belly, as if contemplating something.
“Here.” He winked. “Take a look.”
He held out the bag, letting it dangle in front of her. She hesitated just long enough for him to appreciate the moment before she took it, her fingers brushing his.
Her brow furrowed when she peeked inside.
“A lead rope? Knee-length socks? What’s in the other bag?” she asked, her voice light but probing as she nodded to the brown paper package tucked under his jacket.
“The lead rope is for your horse,” he explained. “And the socks are for you.” He glanced down at the bag with a slight smirk, his veins buzzing.
“This stuff…” He gave it a soft pat. “That’s for us.”
Her fingers curled around the plastic like she couldn’t decide if it was precious to her, or contraband she shouldn’t keep.
“You didn’t need to buy me anything,” she said, the edge of reluctant gratitude in her voice.
“I know,” Jamie replied. “But I wanted to.”
She shot him a look that told him she wasn’t sure whether to trust the honesty in his voice.
“Or you wanted to bribe me to have sex with you?” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “Is that it?”
“We both know I don’t need to bribe you for that to happen.”
Shannon folded her arms, tipping her hip.
“You think I’m easy, don’t you, Jamie? Like I’ll do whatever you want whenever you want? You think you can show up here with gifts and I’ll fall at your feet?”
Jamie smirked. “You won’t fall at my feet, love. You’ll sit at them. Now, let’s go up to the loft.”
Her eyes flared, filled with defiance, and he fucking loved it. Her gaze dropped to the floor, as if she couldn’t bear to look at him without her body submitting.
“Like right now?” she asked, her hands drifting to her hips, the subtle challenge in her tone unmistakable.
“Right. Now,” he replied, his voice a calm command.
He stepped to the side, opening the door wide for her to step through. Shannon placed her thumbs in the belt loops of her breeches and gave him a casual, almost defiant strut as she strode ahead.
Every step she took aimed at teasing him, while she threw a backward glance over her shoulder, heading toward the steps.
Jamie held back, letting her go first so he could watch the way her body moved, the tightness of her breeches against her ass and the sway of her hips.
Inside, the loft was warm, familiar. The scent of Shannon hung in the air. She tugged off her boots,slipped out of her coat and set the plastic bag on the floor.
“Do you want a cup of tea?” she asked, moving to the kitchen, seemingly distracted by her own thoughts.
She grabbed the kettle and turned it on, but paused, brow furrowing. “That’s weird. The water’s already boiled? I’ve been out since five.”
Jamie kicked off his shoes, the tension building in his chest when he lifted the white bag.
“Must be faulty,” he said, though his thoughts weren’t on the kettle at all. He didn’t give a fuck about tea.
“Hmmm,” she hummed, turning to face him, lips parted, and eyes narrowed. “Weird.”
Their gazes clashed, the intensity in her eyes almost swallowing the piercing blue of her stare.
He set the bag on the counter opposite her and crossed his arms, watching her, his posture commanding but still inviting.
