Page 26 of Corrupting Ivy

“I can do that.”

My chest fluttered, andmy cheeks burned as I pressed my fingertips to my lips where his was just moments ago.

What was I thinking?

I thought that him walking into my changing room and touching me would lead to things I had only thought about. But as soon as I took the next step, he bolted like a wild mustang.

How could I show my face or jeans now?

I sat down on the bench in the changing room, hoping in some off-chance he’d come back. But as time ticked on, my chest deflated, and any hope I may have held for him coming back dwindled.

Cracking the door, I looked around for the tattooed stranger I couldn’t help but lust over, then stepped out into the clothing aisle. “Randall?”

There wasn’t anyone here. The clothing department was quiet, with only one young lady I didn’t recognize, perusing the flashy shirts. I walked down the main strip, glancing down each aisle, then doubled back to the changing room, when I collided with a solid chest.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, wiping my hair from my face. “Oh, Mr. Grady. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

He placed his hands on my shoulders and dipped his head. “That’s all right. Are you okay?” he asked, squeezing my shoulders. The mental image of my sixth-grade teacher popped into my head, making my stomach tumble. Mr. Thomas liked to get up close and personal with his misbehaving kids.

“I… yeah.” I stepped out of his grasp. “Hey, you haven’t seen a tall, brooding man that keeps to himself, have you?”

Mr. Grady sighed and dug his hand into his pocket. “Yeah, he told me to give you this.” He held up the folded cash between his pointer and middle finger and gave it a little twist to catch my eye. “He said you better spend it all, then left.”

“Of course he did,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my tone. Leaving was Randall’s signature move, and he was good at it.

I clenched my jaw and took the cash from his cold fingertips. How anyone could be cold in this hot weather was beyond me. Which reminded me. I needed a pair of shorts, and if Randall was buying, I had just the pair in mind.

Mr. Grady smiled as he leaned against the wall near the changing room.

“Did he say anything else?”

“Nope.”

I tugged at the tight jeans, then cleared my throat. “Thank you, Mr. Grady.”

“Please, call me Coen,” he said with a charming smile.

“Okay, Coen.”

The bell at the counter dinged. “Have a nice day, Ivy.”

“Yeah, you too,” I mumbled as he walked away to greet the woman with the flashy silver sequined shirt.

Those were not something people typically wore around here unless you were a performing rodeo queen. Those girls dressed like beauty pageant contestants, only they rode horses and wouldn’t be caught dead wearing designer clothes. Not in Montana anyway. The rodeos down here were a little different.

Walking back into the changing room, I tried on the other two pairs, liking the fit, then dressed in my clothes. Before I pocketed the money, I stared at it. It had been a long time since I’d held this kind of cash in my hands, and the survivor in me told me to put the jeans back and save the money for a rainy day. A day I knew was coming, eventually. It was just a matter of time.

But then I needed pants. That was a necessity. I could still get what I needed, then pocket the rest. How was Randall going to know if I didn’t spend it all?

I stomped my foot and grunted as pain shot up my heel.

Dammit.

I hate conflicting ideas. It made things so complicated.

Fuck it.

I scoured the racks for a pair of shorts and hung them over my arm as I grabbed a shirt, too.Why not? I deserved this. Especially after what happened today. Placing them on the checkout counter, I grabbed a rope candy the length of my body, then took a bite as Mr. Grady rang me up.

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