Page 21 of The Bratva's Innocent Pregnant Bride
After she chose her favorites, we went in search of things for the younger kids. She plopped a plastic tiara on her head, tugging Paisley down to put one on her.
“You look like a real life princess,” she said dreamily, then raced off to a display of remote control cars she swore Artie would love.
“She’s not wrong,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of Paisley, who was laden down with the toys we’d already chosen.
Her cheeks instantly flooded with color and a plush rabbit fell off the top of the pile. We both leaned down to retrieve it at the same time, our heads knocking together. I rubbed the small red mark on her forehead, pushing aside her hair to get a better look at it.
“I’m fine,” she said, flustered into dropping more of the toys.
She was so damn pretty with the childish tiara still perched on her tousled hair that I almost kissed her again. Alina’s back was turned and she was completely engrossed with the cars. Paisley’s parted lips were calling to me, and I leaned forward, catching her hand as she reached for one of the dropped toys.
“I’m fine,” Paisley repeated, scooping them up and standing fast enough to make herself dizzy. I caught her arm as she leaned against me, once again causing a rainfall of stuffed animals, puzzles, and building block sets.
“Let me take those from your wife,” a salesman said, swooping in to retrieve the toys.
I wanted to knock his head off for interrupting us, but the look on Paisley’s face was almost worth the interruption.
“I’m not—” she started.
“Let the man hold them at the counter for us, baby,” I said.
Alina overheard and giggled. “Miss Paisley, why are you bright red?”
“She hates being called a baby, just like you, munchkin.”
“Argh, I’m not a munchkin, either,” she said, pulling herself up to her full, but still tiny height.
We arranged for the presents to be gift wrapped and delivered to the lodge so we wouldn’t have to haul them back to the car. Paisley remembered to take her tiara off at the last minute, trying to put it back, but Alina begged her to keep wearing it.
“We can match, and you look just like a snow queen,” she said.
“Don’t you mean ice princess?” I asked, grinning at Paisley’s scowl.
“Don’t start,” she said. “Not when we’re having fun.”
“So you admit it?”
“What?” she asked, like she hadn’t said a thing about fun. “I admit nothing.”
Before we headed back to the leather shop for Aleks’s wallet, Alina pointed out a drinks cart offering hot chocolate with all manner of decadent toppings, along with towering ice cream drinks despite it being forty degrees outside. She practically wilted between us, acting like she’d walked the entire Sahara she was so thirsty.
“Hey, Alina, did you hear about the guy who got hit with a can of soda?” I asked.
She looked at me very seriously, eyes wide. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he’s lucky it was a soft drink.”
Paisley groaned and Alina realized it was a joke, cracking up and begging for another one. “Please don’t,” Paisley said. “I think I recently read that people can actually die from cringing too hard.”
I reeled off a couple more kid friendly jokes I’d been saving up, dramatically putting my arm around Paisley’s waist as we waited in line for our treats. “In case you cringe too hard,” I said, smiling down at her.
Alina joined in, the perfect little wingman, and got under Paisley’s arm on the other side, pretending to keep her upright. Underneath her bright pink cheeks, she had to give in and let out a stiff little smile.
Once we were stuffed full of cocoa, handmade marshmallows the size of my fist, and ice cream piled on top of gooey, warm cookies, music started up behind us. The skating rink was just opening up for the evening crush of tourists and a mascot dressed up like a fat snowman was careening around on the ice to entice people to join him.
It worked on Alina, who tugged us toward the ticket booth, already nudging off her faux fur rimmed boots to get on a pair of rental skates.
“I guess we’re ice skating,” I said.
