Filthy Scrooge - Page 56

The woman with the wild red hair and sea-colored eyes smiled. “I might have a few more.”

“Oh?” Kay bristled. “It’s fine. Maybe next time.”

Immediately, I remembered how tight her funds were. I opened my mouth to ask for the other sweaters, but when I saw her gaze focus on her boots, I thought better of it. Pride was a tricky thing.

I couldn’t even call it a present.

Christmas strikes again.

I cleared my throat. “We’re looking for gloves and a warm scarf.”

“I have just the thing.” The shop girl twirled away, leaving a wake of spicy scent as she led us to what she had in mind. “If you like this style of sweater, this should appeal to you.”

Kay’s long fingers grasped the bulky yarn with the same yearning she’d had when she took the sweater. I nodded to the girl and slipped my card to her while Kay dug through the various colors.

She picked up a soft blue, then a deep red, and surreptitiously checked the tag. I pressed my hand over hers before she could look at it. “I’ve already bought a set.”

“Linc…”

I shrugged. “Call it research. I’m always on the lookout for specialty items for our stores.”

She frowned up at me. “You don’t carry handmade things.”

My eyebrow rose. “Know my store, do you?”

“I’m observant, and I like to shop. Sue me.”

I hid a smile. Kay’s sunny personality hid the clipped New Yorker that bubbled under the surface. I liked when she got a little pissy. It probably meant I was demented, but the contradictions to her personality made being with her infinitely more exciting.

It was hard to flip over and fuck the sweet girl with the innocent smile.

More like it made me hard as hell and I wanted to do it anyway, but I liked both sides of her personality. And now I needed to think of something else besides Kay in a pile of soft material or I was going to have a problem walking.

Finally, she settled on the red and gave a sweet sigh as she twined the looped scarf over her head until she could burrow into it. I mentally took note of each thing she touched in the store and nodded to the girl a few times.

Kay was so tactile. I should have known since she’d spent most of the time touching me with one part wonder and two parts greed.

Another thing I would miss when she was gone.

I curled my fingers into fists. A wool-covered hand peeled my fingers open until we could lace the tips of our fingers together. I’d never understand the fingerless gloves phenomenon. Seemed to contradict the entire reason for gloves in the first place.

We walked to the counter where a large cotton bag waited for us. I signed the slip without looking at it and took the bag. Kay tried to look inside, but I slung it over my arm before she could peek.

“You don’t have to buy things for me.”

“Research,” I said again.

“Hmm.”

I didn’t want the noise of the festival again, and she seemed to be of the same mind. She tugged me down to the docks and trailed her fingertips along the weathered rail. “This place is beautiful.”

I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“You’re not even looking.”

My eyes didn’t waver from hers. “I don’t need to.”

She dragged me to stand beside her at the end of the pier. The vast lake with chunks of ice at the edges called to me like no other. I loved the city, but a large part of me loved this place. The mountains dotted with green and layers of purple in the distance. Miles and miles of protected land.

Tags: Taryn Quinn Romance
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