Page 49 of Merciless Protector

“Is this okay? I don’t know how formal I need to be.” I asked.

“You look good. And as far as the dress, you can wear what you want. I’m wearing this. I borrowed these from Connor’s closet,” he said, looking far too amused.

He looked damn good, but I didn’t boost his ego. “Cool. I’ll get this then.”

“Do you need help taking it off?”

Luckily, the saleswoman had made herself scarce. I pointed a finger at him, though I flashed him all of my teeth. “You are not coming in with me.” I laughed, as did he.

“I’ll come with you any time or anywhere.”

It was a double entendre, and he winked, confirming it. Amused, I turned and disappeared into the changing room. Once dressed in my clothes, I brought the dress and top to the counter, where the saleswoman waited to ring me up. I was busy giggling at Shawn, who was making faces at me, when my jaw dropped.

“That will be five hundred and ninety-five dollars…”

I didn’t hear the rest as I nearly swallowed my tongue. Before I could come up with a suitable way to cancel the purchase, Shawn was there handing her a black card.

“And we want that,” Shawn pointed to a mannequin that wore a pair of linen pants in the same color that gathered at the ankles. “In fact, the entire outfit.”

I hurried over to Shawn to stop him. “I’ll pay you back, but I don’t need the pants.”

“I’ve got this.”

I might have argued, but he was busy pointing out a purse, and I recognized the brand. “No,” I interjected quickly. I grabbed a smaller Tory Burch cross-body bag because he looked determined to get me something. It was still too much, but if I wore it to work, I wouldn’t be looked at like I took bribes. No one on my salary could afford the purse he wanted to buy for me.

We exited with a bulging bag, and I tried not to think about how much he spent. We hadn’t gone far when he led us to a baby store. He picked up a tiny shirt with a picture of a little boy with horns. It read, My daddy painted horns on my head. “I have to get this for my nephew,” he said and finished with, “Connor is a painter.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. All the artwork in the apartment is his.”

I couldn’t say I did a study of the decor of the house. My attention had been elsewhere. But when I got up this morning, I did notice a few stunning pieces. “That’s amazing.”

He nodded, but something else caught his attention. A second later, he was holding up a white onesie that read, Not a Spare. His grin was infectious, but I was at a loss for words. Confusion quickly melted off his face as he said, “Oh, no. Not for you. My sister. She told me she was pregnant. Again.” The bond between him and his sister had to be special because there was such a genuineness to his amusement. “Not working for you?”

I shook myself out of my thoughts. “Oh. No. I think it’s adorable. You should totally get it.”

He flashed me a grin before heading to the counter with his purchases. The pure genuineness of his delight spoke volumes about his relationship with his sister.

When he arrived with his purchases, he said, “We should go drop these off before we catch a cab to our next destination.”

I had a different idea. “Can we take the subway?” Wasn’t that a part of the New York experience?

He grinned. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

We made a quick pit stop at the apartment. I changed into my new dress and tee as we didn’t know if we’d get back to this side of town before dinner with his parents. That is when I spotted the wheat-colored espadrilles wedges. I hadn’t seen him buy them. But I recognized them from the mannequin in the window that had been wearing the outfit that caught my eye. More surprisingly, they were in my size. How had he known?

I was about to ask when I joined him in the living room, but he cut me off with a kiss. As much as I enjoyed it, I pulled back. “If we don’t leave, we won’t.”

He sighed and held out his hand. “You’re probably right.”

I took it and let the warmth radiating from my heart fill all the empty spaces inside me. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so happy. The dreariness of the subway couldn’t pull the sunshine I walked on. Instead, I took in how Shawn navigated the system like a seasoned pro. The crowds and the few rude people we encountered didn’t wipe the smile off my face. It was a short and direct trip. We didn’t have to change trains as we emerged onto Thirty-Third Street.

I only had to look up and see the iconic Empire State Building. The closer we got, the more crowded it was with people waiting in line to take the elevator up. We walked into the building and Shawn pressed the elevator button as others looked on. When the one that wasn’t designated for tourists opened, we got in. I had no idea where we were going, but he pressed the button for the seventy-eighth floor.

It opened to an impressive office space. An older gentleman almost passed through the lobby area but stopped. “Matthew Moore.”

---