Page 48 of Let Me Say It Again

I gushed, holding a hand to my chest. “Isn’t that sweet?” I swatted Red for the second time. “Isn’t that sweet?”

“I heard you the first time.” He gritted his teeth. “She seems like a nice woman.”

Wait a minute. “You don’t know her?” I screeched. “Shouldn’t you know her?”

“I’m a newer employee of Red’s, actually,” Alistair explained.

“Oh,” I replied simply.

“Great. Now that we have that all sorted out, maybe we should talk about this shopping expedition,” Red said, changing the subject as quickly as Alistair got us to the store.

I snored, dropping my head and closing my eyes like he was making me fall asleep, which he could have very well done. Was he serious that he wanted to talk about shopping? It was a store. What more did I need to know? “I’ve been shopping before, Red.”

He played with his hands in his lap, his fingers intertwined. “This is different. This is our first big outing as a couple, so we’ll have to pretend to be loving and doting.”

“Whisper sweet nothings in your ear, kiss you for no reason, and pretend not to notice when you watch my ass as I walk away. Got it.”

He heaved a sigh. “You better be kidding.”

“Lighten up, or you’re going to go prematurely gray, and while it’s hot on older men, it’s not on men your age.”

* * *

Walking up to the storefront, I recognized the logo on the building. They sold high-end brands and had advertised in the latest issue ofBellissima. I’d never entered a place like this because they were all the same—money hungry. They probably saw every customer the same—walking dollar signs.

“I don’t think—” My breath hitched in my throat when Red placed his hand in mine, clasping our fingers together. “What are you doing?” I asked, peering down at our locked hands.

“I told you we have to sell this, and couples in love hold hands.” To drive home his point, he grazed the pad of his thumb over the outside of my hand, the sensation causing my heart to race.

I gulped. It had been a while since I’d held hands with a man. It always seemed too emotional, too personal to me, and that was the last thing I wanted in a relationship. A good lay, sure. Some great memories, maybe. That was it, though.

I didn’t go for the man who was looking for his forever girl, so they could settle down, get married and make babies. Yeah, not my thing. Point of reference: when Maria had told me about Dom’s brothers, I had been immediately drawn to Carmine because he was a one and done type of man, never slept with the same woman twice. Commitment issues? You could say that. Right up my alley? Definitely. Out of respect for Maria and not wanting to ruin our sistership (if that wasn’t a thing, then it was now), I’d never done anything with Carmine.

Red, however, was a forever man, just like Nate, which was exactly why I couldn’t get mixed up with this emotional stuff. I had to remain aloof. It was what was best for me at the end of the day.

It was bad enough I saw Red in a completely different light after we dry fucked like horny teenagers. I mean, I never thought I’d do that with a grown-ass man as a grown-ass woman, but it’d happened, and I didn’t regret it. In my mind, we had just been getting off. He had been helping me ease an ache, and I had been helping him forgo using his hand again. And maybe it had just been me, but the way he’d looked at me when I’d undone my bra seemed like he’d actually liked me. That was crazy to think, though, right?

I didn’t day drink often, but you’d think I did today with the insane shit that passed through my head. I mean, come on. I know, I know, I just heard myself and was going to let this go. It was what it was—fake. Done.

I shook our hands and scrunched my nose. “Your hands are calloused.”

“Yeah, well, yours are clammy. You don’t see me complaining.” I was about to respond when he opened the door. “First thing we need to invest in for you are bras,” he said, a coy grin on his face.

Jackass.“Stop staring at them, and you won’t have abigproblem.” I winked, passing by him and swaying my hips. Now I hoped he was watching.

Immediately a man dressed in a simple suit with a balding head of dark hair and handlebar mustache came out from behind the cashier counter. “Reddington Lyons, I’m the manager, Hank Malone, how are you doing?” he asked, holding out a hand to him and completely bypassing me altogether. Told you I hated these places. They could probably sniff out the billionaires from miles away.

Red’s lips remained narrow and his gaze serious, firm, but he held out his hand. “Hank, nice to meet you. It doesn’t matter how I’m doing. It only matters how she’s doing. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Hank nodded swiftly and swallowed. He appeared frightened by Red. Something I’d noticed was people either feared or worshipped people with money and power. In the case of Hank, he seemed to both fear and worship Red. “Of course. How are you doing today, Miss—”

“Logan,” Red supplied. I went to open my mouth, but Red only continued. “As I told you on the phone, Hank, we’re going to need your entire staff catering to her today. Whatever she wants, she gets. There is no budget, not when it comes to my fiancée.”

Even after he was done talking (read: exerting his influence), the title of fiancée boomed off the walls, practically causing an echo. It came out exactly as I knew Red intended it to—a warning. One that Hank would have been wise to heed.

“Understood,” Hank replied without any thought.

I placed a hand gently on Red’s arm and leaned in to whisper something in his ear. “Red, that’s really—”

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