She’s okay with me fucking up the guys in her office who leer at her? ’Cause I will.
“You’ll go shopping with me?”
Oh. “Yeah, I’ll go. I can’t promise I’ll be much help. Don’t expect me to pick out colors or anything, but I’m pretty good at holding up walls.”
Her eyes study me, an almost shy expression lifting her pretty face.
If it’s this easy to make Mira happy, and this easy for her to wrap a little piece of herself around my heart, I’m a dead man.
Mira bends over in a slim off-white skirt. “Can you see my underwear through this?”
She has the perfect ass. Like, literally, the most well-formed ass I’ve ever seen. Round but firm, curvy but proportional. I’d like to grab that backside she’s pointed in my face and nip it with my teeth.
Killing me softly, that’s what she’s doing. “Christ, Mira,” I growl.
She looks over her shoulder and straightens. “Oh, sorry.” Her blush seems totally genuine.
For a pretty girl, she doesn’t know her effect on men. Or maybe she just doesn’t realize her effect on me.
Mira doesn’t ask for any more advice about how the clothes look, because, yeah, all I do is check out her body. I try to pay attention, but the stuff underneath is extremely distracting.
She buys a few clothes and a new pair of shoes, checking all the tags multiple times and buying only sale items. I want to rip the tags off the merchandise so she can’t look and stuff a wad of bills in her hand. I hate that she’s worried about money. And I can’t do anything about it, because that would be weird, me buying her clothes.
“Let me buy you ice cream. I owe you after you hung out with me while I shopped. Lewis would never do that. He hates shopping.”
So do I, but I don’t mention it. Makes me look like a giant softy who will do whatever it takes to make this girl happy. And that’s not me. Not anymore. Mira just looked so sad earlier. There’s no doubt she’s going through a rough time right now. Any decent person would have offered to help.
“I never turn down ice cream.”
Mira shoves her shopping bags on the floorboard of my Land Cruiser, and my eyes skim over her as she scoots into the passenger side. I cringe as the torn upholstery snags the fabric of her top. She’s not injured tonight, so I don’t know why this bothers me, but it does.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I say absently, paying attention to the road instead of the girl who makes me feel things I’ve never felt for anyone else. Protectiveness. And such longing that my chest aches.
“Whatever happened to your dad?”
I shrug. “He bailed on my mom.”
“Do you still talk to him?”
“He calls now and then. We have a relationship, but we’re not close.”
It’s odd thinking of my dad. He’s more a stranger than a parent. I’m pretty sure he can’t help the way he is. He never provided for us. Couldn’t seem to keep a job that paid enough. My mom worked hard when he was around, trying to take care of all of us. Things were easier once he left.
“We’re more like casual friends,” I add. “He calls to see what I’m working on. That’s about the extent of our conversations. And he doesn’t get Cali at all. She’s too emotional for him. My dad is ridiculously intelligent, to the point of being oblivious.”
My dad never knew how to show affection, especially with my mom. I worried when I was younger that I might end up like him. But I’m not like him. I have no end of feelings around Mira. There are too many when it comes to her.
I chuckle. “I don’t know. Maybe my dad has a touch of Asperger’s or something. It wouldn’t shock me. Cali’s crazy book smart too, but not so much common-sense smart. Correction, make that book smart as long as we’re not talking math. In that case, she’s remedial at best.”
“I’m the opposite. I’m street smart, but not book smart.” Mira says this so matter-of-factly that I can’t help but look over, my brow furrowing.
“I disagree. You were good at algebra in high school once I pointed out a few things. You’re a quick learner.”
She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, a shy smile pulling the corners of her mouth as she points out an empty parking space in front of the ice cream parlor.
I pull up and we get out of the car. I follow Mira to the glass door of the shop, holding it open for her, wondering what exactly I’m doing. This feels like a date, but that’s not what this is. I felt bad for Mira. She had a bad day. She’s not getting under my skin.
