“Awwww,” they melt.
“You guys are so cute.”
“The cutest,” Callie agrees.
After we’ve taken a photo and signed a few random things, we grab our bagels and devour them at a quiet little table in thecorner of the store. Before we leave, we wave goodbye to the girls and thank them for a fun breakfast. When we step outside, the driver is waiting to pick us up.
“Brrrr.” Vivienne shivers. “It’s a lot colder than I expected.”
“Which is exactly why our next stop is to pick up a pair of boots and a warm winter jacket,” I say as I climb into the car behind her.
“It’s fine, really. I’ll be okay in my sneakers and my hoodie,” she argues.
“It’s not up for debate. The last thing I need is to be responsible for you catching a cold.” I run a nervous hand through my hair. “Roxy made it explicitly clear I am not allowed to let anything happen to you, or I’ll never have permission to kidnap you again. I’m pretty sure if you get sick, she’ll count it against me.”
“Oh, she’ll definitely count it against you.” Vivienne laughs, “She’s downright ruthless, and you don’t want to get on her bad side.”
“So it’s settled. Our next stop is Mazie’s in Manhattan.”
“You got it boss,” the driver answers.
Our drive is perfect. We hold hands, sipping our coffee, and Vivienne stares out the window in awe as I point things out toher. We are so busy enjoying the city that it feels like the drive flies by.
We arrive at Mazie’s, and Vivienne gushes, “Wow! I never thought I’d actually find myself standing here.”
“Why’s that?” My curiosity getting the best of me.
“It’s just, the city is…” she pauses, searching for words. “I’ve spent my entire life immersed in an industry where New York City is the setting or inspirational setting for so many storylines. Now that I’m here, I understand why.”
“Yeah, it grew on me fast too,” I confess, helping her out of the car.
“We’ll be fast,” I say to the driver as he closes the door. “Stay close.”
He nods his agreement, and I drag a reluctant Vivienne into the department store. I really hope no one recognizes me. As we head toward the shoe department, I keep my focus on Vivienne. Luckily, the shoe department is full of options. I motion with my hand at the boots, “Pick a pair. The sooner you do, the sooner I take you on a romantic ride through Central Park.”
She starts to protest, but I place a finger against her lips. “Trust me, darling, you’re going to be here a while, and it’s not going to get any warmer. Now, what kind of boots does a Colorado girl wear?”
Defeated, she answers, “There’s really no talking you out of this, is there?”
“Nope, go pick something.” I sit down on one of the seats for trying on shoes and cross my arms.
“You’re impossible,” she moans, stomping off.
A few minutes later, she returns with a box tucked under her arm. “Where to next?”
“A proper jacket, a hat, and gloves,” I smirk. I could really get used to this feeling of taking care of her. If only she’d let me do it more.
“Lead the way, daddy,” she teases.
“Careful, little muse. I’m perfectly content being called daddy outside of the bedroom. It just means I get to do this.” I slide my hand into the back pocket of her jeans and give her ass a squeeze.
“Stop it,” she hisses, swatting my arm. “We’re in public. What if someone else recognizes us?”
“I believe a wise woman once told me, and I quote, ‘fuck it.’ Are you familiar with the motto?”
She shakes her head. “You’re terrible.”
“Nah, terrible would be asking if you got the boots with the fur.”
