Chapter 15 #2
“There’s one two blocks from here.” He grins as he rounds the truck and climbs in. “And I’ve got a few things in mind that’ll pair real nice with that burgundy set you just tried on.”
A flush crawls up my neck, but I can’t stop the smile that stretches across my face. He shifts the truck into drive, and I can feel the tension between us coil all over again.
“You ever been to one before?” he asks as he drives.
“Nope.” I cross one leg over the other. “But I’m game.”
His knuckles flex on the wheel. “That’s my girl.”
The words wrap around something tender in my chest.
Ten minutes later, he pulls up to a storefront that’s subtle but sleek.
“You sure?” I ask, biting my lip.
He reaches over, cups my jaw, and kisses me once.
“Trust me. You’re gonna love this.”
And the way he says it? I already do.
The chime above the door jingles as we step inside. Soft lighting. Clean shelves. Rows of lacy lingerie, satin ties, and things that make my face heat just trying to name them. Rhett keeps his hand at the small of my back, steady and possessive, guiding me toward a wall of displays.
He leans close to my ear. “You see anything that makes you blush, grab it. We’re buying it.”
“Are you trying to embarrass me?” I whisper, already pink.
“I’m trying to spoil you,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss just beneath my ear. “And maybe see you squirm a little.”
I laugh, half flustered, half thrilled.
He picks up a pair of black satin cuffs. “These?”
My throat dries. “Do you know how to use those?”
He quirks a brow. “Sweetheart, I know how to use everything in this store.”
The man behind the counter gives us a knowing smile and wisely stays silent.
Rhett keeps pulling things off the wall—lace blindfolds, a harness that makes me choke on air, a bottle of warming oil—and adds them to our basket like we’re shopping for groceries.
“Your turn,” he says, offering the handle to me.
I glance down the aisle and spot a barely-there red lace bodysuit. “What about that one?”
He follows my gaze, exhales like he’s just been punched in the gut. “We’re getting that and you’re going to try it on for me the second we get home.”
“In the bedroom?”
“In the truck if you keep looking at me like that.”
I giggle, pushing at his chest. “You’re incorrigible.”
“And you love it.”
I don’t answer but I don’t deny it either.
By the time we check out, the bag is full, and my face is on fire. Rhett just throws down his black card like this is a Tuesday errand and not the filthiest shopping trip of my life.
“Alright. You ready for the part where I spoil you proper?”
I blink. “Wasn’t that the part?”
“Nope. That was foreplay. Now we shop some more.”
Rhett doesn’t head toward the clothing stores like I expected. Instead, he pulls into a quieter side street and parks in front of a place called Merriman’s Fine Jewelry. It’s the kind of place with polished glass windows, soft golden lighting, and an air of old money sophistication.
I blink. “This doesn’t look like jeans and boots.”
“It’s not.”
My stomach flips. “Then why are we here?”
He shuts off the engine and reaches over, brushing a hand along my thigh. “Because I want to put something shiny on you. Let everyone in this town know you’re mine.”
My throat goes dry. “Rhett…”
“No pressure,” he says quickly. “Not that shiny. Not yet. But maybe a necklace. Or a bracelet. Or a ring on any finger but that one. For now.”
For now.
I swear I almost melt on the spot.
He opens the door and walks around to mine like a damn gentleman again, helping me out.
His hand doesn’t leave mine as he leads me into the store.
Inside, it’s cool and elegant. The displays gleam with gold, rose gold, silver, and diamonds under perfect lighting.
A woman in a navy blazer smiles warmly at us as we enter.
“Looking for anything in particular today?” she asks.
Rhett turns to me. “Whatever she wants.”
My pulse hammers.
We stroll slowly past the cases. I stop at a necklace—simple, rose gold, with a tiny lariat drop and a blood-red garnet that catches the light just right.
Rhett’s already signaling for the attendant. “Let me see that one.”
“You really don’t have to—”
“I want to.” He steps behind me as she opens the case. “You deserve pretty things, Juniper.”
The way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine.
When the necklace is clasped around my neck, Rhett leans in, his lips grazing just behind my ear.
“Perfect,” he murmurs. “Now every time you see it, you’ll remember today.”
I stare at our reflection in the mirror, and I realize I want more than a necklace.
I want all of it.
He pays without blinking. The necklace stays on my throat.
“Next stop,” he says, brushing his knuckles along the new chain, “a few fancy dresses.”
I trail behind him as we leave the jewelry store, still fingering the garnet at my throat. It’s heavier than it looks. Or maybe it’s the weight of what it means.
“A few fancy dresses?” I ask, raising a brow as we reach the truck again.
Rhett opens the door but doesn’t let me in just yet. His hands settle on my hips, pulling me close.
“I want to see you dressed up. I want every man in that town to know they missed their chance. That you’re mine now.”
My pulse jumps. “Possessive, aren’t you?”
His mouth grazes my jaw. “Not possessive. Protective. And maybe a little obsessed.”
I laugh, breathless, and he finally lets me into the truck.
The boutique he takes me to smells like expensive perfume and fresh leather. Mannequins are draped in silks and satins, lace and velvet. The kind of dresses I used to wear when I did beauty pageants.
Rhett sits in a plush velvet chair near the dressing rooms, legs spread, watching me like he owns the place.
“You’re just going to sit there?” I tease, already holding two dresses over my arm.
“Damn right. I’m here for the show.”
The saleswoman smiles like she’s used to this sort of thing. She ushers me into a dressing room and helps zip the first gown. It’s midnight blue with a plunging neckline and a slit high enough to ruin a man.
When I step out, Rhett’s jaw actually tics.
“Spin for me,” he says, voice low.
I twirl once, slowly.
“Jesus,” he mutters. “Take it off.”
“What?”
“I mean buy it. Then take it off. Preferably back at the house.”
The next dress is worse—or better. Crimson silk that clings to every curve and dips low in the back.
“Fuck,” Rhett growls when I appear. “Turn around.”
I do.
He stands and stalks toward me, his hand landing lightly on my hip. “We’re buying that one. And the blue one. And whatever the hell else you put on, because I want you in all of them.”
“Even the gold lace one that looks like it belongs in a burlesque show?”
His lips brush my ear. “Especially that one.”
By the time we check out, the clerk has boxed up six dresses, two pairs of heels, and one very expensive-looking coat I didn’t even pick.
Rhett just nodded at it and said, “She’ll need this for winter.”
I stare at the bags in disbelief as we load them into the truck.
“I’ve never owned this many clothes at once,” I admit.
“You do now,” he says, slamming the tailgate shut. “You’ve got a fresh start. And you’re not going back to scraps, Juniper.”
Something swells in my chest. I want to say thank you, or I love you, or just don’t stop, but the words get tangled in my throat.
So instead, I lean in, tiptoe up, and kiss him. It says everything I can’t.
He pulls me close, murmurs against my lips, “Let’s go home.”