Have My Baby (Crescent Cove 1)

“I can see your ass too.” I tilted my head as she climbed the stairs to the shop. “It’s kinda perfect.”

“I miss the old Seth who never said shit like this.”

“Blind Seth who never noticed what was right in front of him?”

“Yes, Blind Seth was awesome.” She rolled her eyes at me over her shoulder and opened the door before I could, slipping inside. She didn’t hold the door for me, and even that made me grin.

Damn, I liked having our rhythm back. Even if it was now heavily laced with innuendoes, we were on track once again.

Mostly.

As always, Ally touched every trinket and ornament she came across. She was so tactile. Always had been. She claimed not to have a special affinity for any holiday, but she took every opportunity to visit this shop and pick up something small for Laurie. An ornament for the tree, or a little figurine she might like. She never stopped thinking about my little girl.

“She’d love this, don’t you think?” Ally angled her head to study a tiny ballerina with a glittering tutu hanging from one of the higher branches of a Christmas tree. Her cowboy boots made her taller, but she still had to stretch to reach so I helped her by tugging the loop off the branch.

“She loves pink,” I agreed. “We’ll get this for her, and something for your new tree with Sage.”

“Oh, Christmas is so far away.”

“No further for you than it is for Laurie.” I moved around the tree and picked up a shimmery silver arrow ornament, cupping it in my hand when she tried to get a peek. “It’s a surprise.”

She tugged on the sleeve of my suit jacket, but I kept my fingers in a tight fist. Shaking her head, she laughed. “You’re a silly man.”

“You haven’t had nearly enough silly in your life for a damn long time.” Something shifted through her expression and I leaned down to speak against her ear. “Let me give you some things you aren’t used to tonight. We’ll start with silly.”

I grabbed a string of mini flamingo lights off a small tabletop tree and draped them around her neck without revealing the ornament hidden in my hand. It was difficult since she kept trying to get a glimpse of it, but I had big hands and stealth.

And long jacket sleeves I could slip it into.

After I’d paid—and insisted she wear the still blinking lights out of the store—Ally shook her head and aimed for the next shop. This time, we walked together. Our hands brushing back and forth, fingers colliding, wrists bumping. Neither of us making the grab.

Best friends didn’t hold hands. God knows we never had before. But tonight, I wanted to. I wanted her fingers to clutch mine as I pulled her in close by that strand of madly blinking lights and met her smiling mouth with my own.

I’d give my right nut to keep that grin on her face. Pay any price. Risk anything.

Even us.

In the next store, she browsed the kitchen gadgets and cookbooks and household knickknacks with her typical curiosity. Her gaze touched every item before her hands followed suit. I swallowed hard, imagining what it would be like to be the object of all that fascination.

To be her sole focus, even for an hour. For a night.

She bought a cow salt and pepper set and some hot cocoa mix and we headed to the coffee shop where we studied rows of truffles through the glass cases and debated hot apple cider or cappuccino. She went for the cider and I chose black coffee with a shot of maple.

Maple like the golden brown eyes that smirked at me when I gave in and dumped some cream into my coffee.

Getting to black only was a process for me, one she was sure I’d never manage. She thought I enjoyed my sweets too much.

If she only had a clue.

Outside the rain had started anew, so we ducked into another shop, this one with ship memorabilia and nautical apparel. I grabbed her a tote bag and tucked her flamingo lights and her surprise present and her kitchen shop purchases inside then threw it over my shoulder, ignoring her laughter at the picture I made in my business suit.

Whatever. It was only half a business suit, since I had jeans on with the shirt, jacket and tie as always.

Perk of owning my own business. Casual Fridays were every day of the damn week.

The next time we slipped outside, the rain had lessened, so we decided to take that walk on the pier. The long length of it was draped in white lights, and the tiny flickers bounced off the rippling expanse of dark water that stretched far in the distance. At the end of the pier, she stopped and leaned over the railing, her dark hair billowing behind her in the wind. Her flirty dress clung to the backs of her thighs and her ass, and the illicit glimpse I took of both probably had something to do with why I crowded her against the rail. I didn’t move back as she stiffened and regained her full height, her ringed fingers suddenly clutching the rail.

“Personal space, Hamilton,” she tossed back, but she didn’t look me in the eye. “Ever heard of it?”