But now, everything’s different.
“Come on, birthday girl,” I say, taking Brinley’s hand. “We’re not done yet.”
“You got me a present that Christmas, remember?” she says as we wander out of the shoe store. “It was a heart-shaped necklace.”
Brinley’s probably gotten thousands of priceless gifts in her life, and yet she remembers that necklace? Part of me wishes she didn’t. “Not much of a gift, considering what you meant to me.” My jaw twitches, and I don’t say the rest. Nothing compared to what he got you. I was setting the dining room table for their Christmas dinner when Roman showed up with the small box. I was in the next room when she opened the diamond tennis bracelet, and I could hear her little sister and Mom going nuts over it. “Oh my God, that’s so romantic!” “Brinley, put it on! It’s perfect.”
She squeezes my hand, as if she’s right there with me, reliving those memories. “I never cared about the money.”
It’s easy not to care about money when you have it, but it’s not her fault she was born into that world, so I shrug and pull her to a stop in front of a two-story jewelry store with lush carpets and chandeliers in the entrance. “I cared. And now it’s my turn to spoil you.”
Her eyes widen as she turns and sees where I intend to go next. “Stop it. No. You can’t.”
I release her hand and stroll inside, winking at her over my shoulder. “Can and will.”
A saleswoman is quickly in front of me as if she can scent a man in the mood to spoil a woman. Brinley is right. I used to be intimidated by all this shit, but I learned over the years that if you walk and talk with enough confidence, the staff will kiss your ass and assume they’re a sales pitch away from a fat commission check. “How can I help you, sir?”
Brinley’s still in the hallway, hands on hips like she can talk me out of this if she’s just stubborn enough, but I point to her. “That beautiful woman right there? It’s her birthday, and I want to spoil her rotten. I’m thinking earrings and a necklace.”
The saleswoman beams. “I’m sure we can help you, sir. Diamonds?”
“And pearls. She has a soft spot for pearls.”
“Follow me. I have some options I think you’ll love.” She slips behind a long counter, and across the hall, Brinley wanders toward another store window. She doesn’t have to come in here for me to buy her something, and yet, right now, I’m more interested in what’s caught her attention.
I hold a finger up for the saleswoman. “I’ll be right back.”
Her face falls and I know she’s worried she’s lost me, but I’ll make it up to her.
I head back into the hall and stop next to Brinley, who stands outside La Perla. The lingerie in the window is black and gray lace, and I immediately picture her in it—her skin flushed from arousal, her nipples taut against the lace bra, the way the high-cut panties would hug her ass.
Stripping her out of that lace is officially on my bucket list.
“See something you like?” I ask her.
When she turns to me, she’s smiling. “Thank you for coming to your senses,” she says, starting to walk away.
“Oh, no. I’m not done there. Just taking a little detour.” I turn toward the window, taking my time as I imagine the showcased bra and panty set on her.
“You did not just ogle that mannequin.”
I chuckle. “I did, but only because I was thinking of how it will look on you.”
“What a line.” She smacks my arm playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”
I arch a brow. “It’s not a line. My only question is if you’re going to stay out here or go in with me while I buy it.” I stride into the store.
She chases after me and grabs my arm. “You don’t need to buy me gifts.”
“Oh. This isn’t for you.” Her face falls, and I realize she thinks I’m saying I’ll buy this for someone else. Seriously? I dip my head so my mouth is right by her ear when I whisper, “Sending this home with you, knowing you’ll think of me every time you wear it? That’ll be a gift for me.”
* * *
Brinley
Does he want me to drag him into a dressing room and jump him? Because the temptation is so strong that I’m considering it. But it has nothing to do with him buying me gifts and everything to do with the sweet things he’s saying . . . the old feelings he’s bringing to the surface.
I press my palms against his chest and push him back so I can see his dark brown eyes. “If I let you buy it for me, would you want to see it?”