Page 30 of Teasing a King

I shrug. “Honestly, they probably only care about which credit cards are in my wallet. Come on. Let’s take a look around. If we hate it, we’ll go to one of the other places Ronan told me about.”

Mya nods. “Okay, let’s go.” She pulls her shoulders back and lifts her chin. “I can pretend to be bougie.”

“That’s the spirit,” I say, climbing out of the car.

We walk inside the store, and almost immediately I wonder if we’ve made a mistake. Soothing classical music plays softly from hidden speakers. Everything is in muted shades of olive, gray, cream and something that looks like navy blue that’s been faded in the sun for a few days. There are tiny shoes made for a newborn. Did I miss something? They can’t walk at that age, right? Mya and I share a look and I know she’s thinking the same as me. What are we doing here? This store isn’t for us.

Before we can turn and make a break for the exit, an incredibly well-dressed young woman appears in front of us, blocking our path. She looks equal parts eager to make a sale and skeptical that we belong here. I’m leaning toward the latter.

“Hello,” she says brightly. “Is there anything I can help you find today?”

Mya looks at me, a hint of panic in her brown eyes. It’s clear she doesn’t like this store. I can’t say I blame her. A hundred dollars for a onesie that a baby will grow out of in less than a month seems ridiculous. Do people really pay these prices? Not to mention everything here looks like it was designed for someone with an aversion to color. Everything looks so washed out and bland. I can’t imagine dressing a baby in these colors.

I shake my head. “Not exactly,” I say, affecting a bored tone. “We were just browsing. Trying to get some ideas for the nursery. We’ve only just chosen our surrogate, you know.”

The woman’s smile brightens immediately. “I understand,” she says, leaning toward me conspiratorially. “But you know, it’s never too early to start.” She laughs like she just said something hilarious. I give her a tight smile, looking around the shop as though there’s nothing here of interest.

“Margo, darling,” I say, turning to Mya. “I think maybe we should explore our options a bit, don’t you?”

Mya understands immediately. She feigns disappointment, pushing her bottom lip out in a pout that nearly has me breaking character.

“Oh Todd, if you think so,” she says, her voice nearly a coo. “You know best, after all.”

She loops her arm through mine and leans her head on my shoulder. Now, I know she’s acting. I nearly laugh. The idea of Mya acquiescing so easily without comment is beyond ludicrous. I pat her hand in a condescending way that I know probably makes her seethe inside.

“Of course, I do, dear,” I say. What am I, a walking male chauvinist stereotype? “If we leave now, we can make it to Neiman Marcus before they close.” I tap Mya’s nose and grin. “And I did promise you a new bag, didn’t I?”

For a second, I wonder if I’ve gone too far. Mya’s eyes tighten just a fraction. I wonder if she’s going to tell me off. Instead, she smiles up at me adoringly.

“Oh, yes!” she exclaims. “And the matching wallet?”

“Anything for you,” I say. I turn back to the saleswoman as though just remembering her presence. “Thank you for your time, but we’ll be going now.”

I turn and sweep Mya along toward the door. We maintain our composure until we’re standing in front of the car. Then we both burst into laughter. It’s all I can do to open the car door for her and usher her inside. I make my way around to the driver’s side and climb in.

“She was intense!” Mya says, wiping her eyes.

I laugh. “Did you see the dollar signs flashing in her eyes?”

She nods. “She was checking you for a wedding band too!”

I wink at her as I put the car into reverse. “Jealous?”

Mya laughs. “Of course, I am,” she says. “If you run off with Bougie Baby Bjorn, how will I get my new bag with the matching wallet?”

My mouth drops open and I shoot her a look of outrage. “Are you just after my money?”

Mya’s face turns serious. “I’m so sorry!” she says, putting a hand on my arm. “I honestly thought you knew.”

We both laugh for a full minute.

I heave a heartfelt sigh. “It’s so hard to find a woman who loves me for me and not my wallet.”

Mya shrugs. “That’s your fault, you know. When you take a girl to a store where onesies cost more than her entire outfit, she’s bound to get ideas.”

“You’re probably right,” I say, glancing over at Mya. Her face is glowing from all the laughter and she’s still smiling. “I hope the next store on Ronan’s list is a little more our style.”

“It can’t be worse than the last one,” Mya says.

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