She put the boot on the floor and tried to shimmy her foot in that way.
Tripp’s gaze might as well have been a tangible thing, it was so heavy. She looked up and found him staring at her hard, only this time, the turmoil had turned to lust, and the heat in his eyes flashed across her skin like fire.
His lips were parted, arms flexed at his sides.
She swallowed hard, not knowing why this instant change in him had occurred, but she liked it. He was hot and intense and…
She looked down and gasped.
Her skirt was rucked up high on her thighs, and she’d been so busy trying to get the boot on she hadn’t realized she was going all Basic Instinct on him, opening and closing her legs. From where he stood, Tripp was getting a prime view.
“I see your mood changed yet again,” she said, a little breathless, and crossed her legs, giving up on the purple boot.
He glanced at Gracie, who was still half an aisle away, but happily looking at the wall of boots and humming to herself. He came to kneel in front of Charlotte, and his closeness made her breath catch. She could feel his warmth, smell the spice of his soap mixed with Wyoming sunshine wafting from him. Same as the first night she’d met him.
“You can’t force things,” he said, cupping her calf in his calloused hand, sending shivers down her spine. He gently lifted her leg enough to position the purple boot beneath it and slowly slid her foot in. Her thigh barely parted, but with him this close and kneeling, he could see her panties, she was sure of it. And she kind of liked it.
She also liked this Tripp. The sexy, intense Tripp, with his hands on her skin.
“It wasn’t long ago I found myself in this position,” he murmured, continuing to slide her foot into the boot while oh so slowly spreading her thighs wider, his fingers trailing up her inner thigh. Her breathing quickened, her panties instantly damp. “By far the best meal I’ve ever had was right…here…”
His fingers brushed her through the silky fabric, ghosting over the place she needed him to touch immediately.
She gasped but in a split second, Tripp was gone, back to leaning against the wall. Charlotte blinked wildly, adjusting her skirt.
“So pretty!” Gracie said, running over to look at the purple boot on Charlotte’s foot.
Wait, when had that happened? Oh, yeah. When she’d been on the verge of having an orgasm in the middle of the boot aisle of Wrangler’s while the man’s daughter was mere yards away. Thank God he’d pulled out. Almost literally.
Charlotte had to clear her brain and get a grip quickly.
“Yes, very pretty.”
“These are like Daddy’s…but for girls,” Gracie said with confidence, and handed Charlotte a brown leather boot that looked feminine yet built for a rough day on the farm.
“I like them,” Charlotte said, and started to try them on. She avoided eye contact with Tripp this time, but she could feel him looking at her. And there was no easy way to get out of the purple boot and into the other, so she just had to flash away.
Once she got them on, she really did love them. The distressed leather felt comfy and durable, and the way they scrunched a little around her ankle looked good even with her sundress.
“I think these are winners. Good work, Gracie. I may have to hire you to be my personal shopper.”
Gracie grinned, and Charlotte couldn’t help but smile back. On their way to the checkout, Charlotte grabbed a pair of jeans in her size and added it to her purchase.
She was set.
Well, almost. She just had to get back to her car, which was at Tripp’s, and somehow broach the topic of the tractor without sounding like she needed his help.
“See, Daddy, wasn’t this fun?” Gracie asked, tugging on her dad’s hand.
Tripp smiled, but there was a heat behind it as he looked at Charlotte. “Best shopping experience I’ve had in a while.”
Tingles rose from her toes to her scalp.
“But now I’m starving, and we need to get back,” he said to Gracie, obviously loud enough for Charlotte to hear it.
“Daddy gets grouchy when he’s hungry,” Gracie said to Charlotte.
She looked the man over, all six-plus feet of sexy, looking at her like she might be his last meal and he’d die happier for it. “I bet he does,” she whispered.