But that was already a lost cause. Try as he might, he just couldn’t do it. And besides, it wouldn’t be weird. They were newly returned to town, why not welcome them back with a little gift?
Shaking his head at his own nonsense, he pushedopen the door, releasing a warm breeze that carried a hint of roses.
“Welcome to Sweater Weather,” the lady behind the counter said. “Can I help you—oh,hey, Tripp.”
“Vicky,” he said, recognizing his old classmate. “Is this your place?”
He hoped there wasn’t too much surprise in his voice. He’d known Vicky Miller since high school, and she had never seemed the entrepreneurial type. He had to hand it to her though, she was going to make a fortune off the flatlanders with all this nice stuff.
“Oh, gosh, no,” Vicky said, chuckling. “The owner is from New York. I’m just working the counter.”
“Ah, okay,” Tripp said.
“Are you looking for a gift?” Vicky asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I like the sweaters in the window. I need three, one adult two kids.”
“Okay,” Vicky said with a funny smile. “What sizes?”
Shoot. He hadn’t thought about that. He wasn’t even sure how women’s sizes worked. He knew they were numbers of some sort, but they didn’t make any sense.
“The woman is pretty small,” he guessed. “And the kids are five and seven.”
“Got it,” Vicky said. “I think I know what to do.”
She headed to the shelves that were built across the back of the shop and grabbed three of the pink, fluffy sweaters with the white Nordic print that the mannequins were wearing.
“These should be just right,” she told him, placing them on the counter.
“This too,” he said, noticing a white scarf on a rack bythe counter. When he grabbed it to place it on the counter, it felt good in his hand, light and soft as a newborn calf’s belly, but warm.
“A cashmere scarf,” Vicky said, eyebrows lifting. “Lucky lady.”
“She deserves it,” Tripp said lightly.
Vicky’s smile grew a little as she carefully scanned each item.
The total took his breath away, but Tripp handed over his debit card. He hardly spent money on anything, and the idea of doing something nice for Jillian and the girls made him happy. It was more than thelittlegift he’d had in mind, but Jillian didn’t need to know that.
After he paid, Vicky carefully wrapped each item in tissue paper and slid it into a fancy branded shopping bag with a ribbon handle.
Tripp tried not to show his impatience. The heat and the perfume in the store were getting to him, but he didn’t want to take off his coat since he was heading right back out.
“Okay, there you go,” Vicky said finally, handing him the bag. “And be sure to hang onto the receipt.”
“It’s fine,” he said, waving it away.
“When you try to give Jillian all this stuff and she runs away again, I doubt you’re going to want to wear it yourself,” Vicky said, smirking at him.
He blinked at her for a moment.
“A small woman and two little girls?” Vicky said, arching one brow. “Who else is it going to be?”
“She’snotgoing to run,” he said firmly.
But suddenly, hewasn’t so sure.
The sweaters in the window were bright and cheerful. But the fancy bag felt heavy in his hand, and his stomach twisted as he remembered the look on Jillian’s face as she ran from him back in school, her golden ponytail bouncing on her shoulder blades as she disappeared down the hallway to the soundtrack of his friends laughing at him.
