Clearing his throat, he plucks the bag of pastries from my hand. “Still a romantic, I see.”
Heat crawls up my throat at his words, and I can’t even argue. Maybe I can tease him for knowing what genre these are in the first place.
“Born and raised.” Hugging the books to my chest, I try not to give any more attention to my usual escape in life. Instead, I lead us toward the checkout.
I’ve barely set the books on the counter in front of the employee before Charles is digging out that fancy card of his.
“I can buy this.” In a poor attempt to race him to get my very own card out, I don’t miss the way his mouth curves as he swiftly shoves his into the card reader. Looking so proud of himself, my mouth purses into a thin line. “How much money do you intend to spend on me?”
Despite knowing he has the money to burn, I don’t like it. I feel like I won’t be able to return the same favor. Throw in the idea of him remembering these next couple of days as some expensive holiday because he blew money on an old friend.
He thanks the cashier, giving her one of his charming smiles that results in her flushing deep enough to catch my eye.
Jealousy immediately sparks up, especially after what we’d just done, but I swallow it down like a bitter pill. I can’t feel this way, not when the man isn’t mine to begin with.
He does what he does best, and halts my current thoughts by getting in my space. When he offers me his arm to hold onto again, I can’t help but feel so silly.
The cold air helps tame the heat growing on my flushed skin.
This time, walking aimlessly, I hold onto him tight, as I try to pick my next words. While half of me wants to ask him what that kiss meant, the other half wants to scold him for what he’s done. For what he keeps doing. If I keep letting him do as he pleases, my heart won’t be able to take much more.
“It won’t sit right with me if I keep letting you buy stuff left and right. You have to let me give you something.” Motioning to the stuff in our grips, I shake my head. “It feels weird to let you spoil me.”
Better to say that than admit that it gives me little tingles. The last thing I want to do is have him think I’m greedy, even if he is being stubbornly generous.
He thinks about it for a moment, like he is having his own internal debate.
“There has to be something you want. Heck, let me buy our dinner. Even something as simple as that will be enough. I promise.” Nudging him, my boots catch some slush, but he suddenly stops and looks at me.
“I know what I want in return.” Tilting his head, I’m surprised by his hesitancy. “And it won’t cost you a penny, but it will be enough. I promise.”
Trying to imagine what a man could want who can buy himself anything in the world, I think what it could possibly be as he pauses to shove his hand into his pocket.
“A picture.” Lifting his gaze, I catch the way his throat bobs. “With you.”
How can he want something so simple?
“Really, that’ll be enough?” Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod. “Can you send it to me after?”
His mouth curves, an answer in itself. Sliding toward me, I shiver as he wraps an arm around my back, the bag in his hand hitting my hip, but I don’t even feel the thump. Not when all I can do is focus on the way he lowers himself so he’s more my height before lifting his phone high enough to capture both of us.
Staring at the screen, I stare at the flushed woman staring back. The one with such a longing look in her eyes. The one who’s still very much in love with a man who is so far out of her reach, it isn’t funny.
Then I look at his reflection and take in the hunger in his eyes. He might be able to keep it off of the rest of his expression, but in his eyes? He can’t hide it.
Even if he is out of my reach on a typical day, today is something different. It’s not like anything I’ve ever experienced. This yearning.
Hearing the click of this camera, the photo taken, he doesn’t pull away immediately.
Trying not to overthink this, to fool myself into thinking this could be something impossible, I get a little dizzy when I realize I’ve stopped breathing. Inhaling sharply, I shiver when he pulls away to take in the picture.
He takes too long staring at it, and I can’t help but ask if it’s okay. Finally, he nods and stuffs the device into his pocket. “It’s perfect.”
Not understanding how it could be enough to pay him back entirely, it’s useless putting up an argument. If he likes photos so much, I can offer to take a couple more before we leave this town.
9
Charles
