Lissa blinked her eyes open.
“Very nice,” she said briskly, “but I can’t accept—”
“Too late.”
“For what?”
“Mr. Jessup says that health department regulations won’t permit him to take back boots that have been worn.”
Lissa stared at the man behind the counter.
“That’s ridiculous. I didn’t wear them, I tried them on.”
Jessup shrugged his shoulders, but she was pretty sure he was trying hard to suppress a smile.
“Nick. You’re lying to me.”
“Would I lie?” Nick said. He reached his hand back toward the counter. Jessup grinned and handed over a sheepskin jacket like Nick’s, but half the size. “Here you go, Wilde. Try it on.”
“No. Absolutely not. I cannot—”
“Neither can I. You’re a temp.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’re a temporary employee, meaning you’re not covered by the Triple G health insurance plan.” Nick fixed her with a stern look. “You come down with pneumonia, I’m stuck with your medical bills.”
She laughed. It was impossible not to laugh; he looked so serious. Tom Jessup, right behind him, was now grinning from ear to ear.
“Nick,” Lissa said softly, “I can’t pay you for these things. They’re too expensive. And I can’t possibly accept them as gifts.”
“Because?”
“Because…because I just can’t!”
He nodded. “Fine
. Then, they’re not gifts. They’re payment in lieu of cash.”
“Huh?”
“For all the work you’ve done.”
“Our deal was room and board.”
“For one dinner. You’ve already done more than that.”
“Yes, but—”
“Lissa.” His voice was soft. “Can’t you simply say, ‘Thank you, Nick. I love the boots. And the jacket.’” He paused. “Unless, of course, you don’t.”
“Oh, but I do! Everything is so lovely—”
He put out his hand, clasped hers, and drew her to her feet. “Turn around,” he said as he tucked the crutch under his arm and held the jacket open. She slipped into it and his fingers brushed over the nape of her neck.
That breathless feeling swept through her again.
“There’s a mirror on that wall… Well? What do you think?”