Page 78 of Protecting Her Secrets

“A sexy bodyguard? Lucky us.”

“I have to agree with you.” I toss him a wink over my shoulder, knowing he heard her comment.

We step out onto the sidewalk that has been shoveled free of snow, the fat chunks of salt crunching under our boots as we make our way down the street.

“Okay, where do you want to go to first: the mercantile or Louisa’s House?”

“Louisa’s House?” I ask.

“She’s a Geezer who runs a thrift shop”—she leans in close, talking through her teeth—“and sex shop, out of her basement.”

My eyes widen at the sex shop tidbit, though I don’t know why. At this point, nothing should surprise me about this town. “I think I’m good on sex toys?—”

“Speak for yourself,” Walker mutters.

I roll my eyes. “But do you think she has any maternity clothes?”

“Considering most of what people donate to her comes from an old person, the options aren’t great, but she might have some. Why?”

“This baby is growing like a weed. Trying to button my jeans was a challenge this morning.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Walker interjects, looking concerned.

I stop and turn to face him. “You wanted me to tell you I’m getting too fat for my pants?”

“Not fat. Pregnant. And yes, I want to know every tiny detail.” He rests one hand on my shoulder while the other lowers to touch my belly. “If I don’t know you’re feeling insecure, how can I know when to remind you how beautiful your body is?”

It’s a corny response, but I fall for it, hook, line, and sinker. My insides melt, and I’m ready to skip shopping so we can go home and he can do just what he suggested. Each time he touches my little bump, I feel a bond forming between the baby and him, and it’s sexy as hell.

“Well, fuck me sideways. Who knew the grump had game?” Jazzy says.

Walker sighs, the first thread of his patience gone, which makes me wonder how long it’ll be before he starts complaining. “Start at the mercantile, and if you can’t find anything, then we can go to Louisa’s.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I rejoin my new friend.

The mercantile is the strangest store I’ve ever been to. It has everything from home furnishings to fishing lures, most of it made by local small businesses. The aisles are small and jam-packed full of items that would take you hours to sift through,but I have an objective, and I don’t want to make Walker suffer any more than necessary.

Weaving through displays, Jazzy leads me to the far corner, where there are four racks of women’s clothes and two racks of men’s. Most of it is athleisure, which will work well for me, not only for working at the daycare but being able to expand with my growing belly.

As I flip through the racks, a woman approaches us. She’s an employee, judging by her black apron and name tag.

“Hi, Minty. How are you?” Jazzy doesn’t give her the same enthusiastic welcome she gave me, but the young woman seems shy and standoffish.

“Do you guys need any help?” Her head is down, and her voice is small, making it hard to hear her.

“Nah, we’re good.” Jazzy turns to me. “Have you met Skylar?”

Minty’s gaze shifts up for a split second before she shakes her head. From what I can tell, she’s a beautiful woman, probably in her mid-to-late-twenties. She has a long, thick mane of blonde hair she hides behind, along with her oversized clothes. If not for the apron, I wouldn’t be able to tell she had a waist at all.

“Hi. Minty, is it?” I hold out my hand, a gesture she ignores. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi.” She clasps her hands in front of her.

“Minty’s fairly new to town too,” Jazzy says. “She’s renting the little apartment upstairs.”

“Where’d you move from?” I ask.

“Back East.”

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