Priorities.
“I looked at your clothes when you were taking a shower at my place earlier,” he says with a grin. It’s devious.
“You were planning on buying me clothes earlier today?”
My brain can’t process that.
“I wouldn’t say that. But if the occasion presented itself, I wanted to know what size you wear. Eat the pie.”
“I will not be bribed with pie,” I fake yell, and we both know that’s a lie. Gunner snorts. I snatch the fast food bag and sure enough, there’s a pie-weighted something in the bottom.
I set it back down, already knowing that thing’s going to be in my stomach in the next ten minutes.
“It looks like you can be bribed with pie,” Caleb observes.
“We’ll we will see about that! And we will see if you pick out the right things,” I say, crossing my arms, then remembering I’m holding my hamburger and taking a massive bite of it instead. “At this rate,” I say through my full mouth, “you might have to buy stuff with a stretchy waistline.”
“I’ll buy whatever you want, sweet cheeks,” he says.
“Please don’t call me that,” I tell him.
“Okay, Ivy. What do you want me to call you?”
“Ivy’s fine.”
“Wifey, maybe?” he asks, raising one eyebrow.
“Caleb Mercer,” I say, “you better get out of here before I decide to cast a spell on you.”
He leans over and gives me a big kiss on the lips.
“I think you’ve already done that.”
He slams the door shut without another word, and slack-jawed, I watch him walk into the cutest boutique on the street.
I’ve only been in it once or twice. I end up buying most of my clothes online because it’s too much of a pain to get around and shop when you own your own business, but I’ve loved everything I’ve seen in there every time.
I have a sneaking suspicion Caleb remembers that from when we dated all those years ago. He gives me one last grin as he shoves the door open.
Then all I have to do is stare at the windows and wait, my heart beating faster than ever.
“It feels too good to be true,” I tell Gunner suddenly and turn around to stare at him.
“That’s because you never let yourself have anything nice,” Gunner tells me.
“That’s not true. I have you, and I have the store, and I have my sisters, and I have a lot of very cute clothes.”
“Yeah, but you don’t let anyone ever do anything for you. Ever. Even me. I have to practically beg you to let me help you when you’re sick. And your sisters — don’t even get me started. The fact that you let them help you last night finally cracked your armor." Gunner shakes all over, like he’s just been given a bath he didn’t like. “Plus, Caleb’s back, and he wants to take care of you, and you’re going to be happy, so deal with it,” he says.
I pick up my phone, at a loss for words and slightly nervous about the fact that Caleb is shopping for me.
“He called me wifey,” I blurt out, then turn around to stare at Gunner again.
Gunner leans forward, resting his chin on the center console, looking up at me with beautiful eyes.
“So?” Gunner says. “So what if he wants to marry you?”
“But he’s only been back in town for a few days,” I whisper-scream.
