27. Maeve #2
It’s true that I just have my big, old, practical purse.
I use it to hold files for work. It’s sturdy, that’s for sure.
But it’s not glamorous. I’ve always wanted something cute and fashionable.
I try to be as put-together as I can even on my limited budget.
But I don’t need a purse at work, where I have to look my best to represent my bosses, and good purses, especially quality leather, are just so expensive. It’s never been in my budget.
I hadn’t thought that anyone, especially not my bosses, had noticed that I carry this clunky bag to and from the office.
Gabriel pays for the purse and hands it over to me. “There you are.”
“I can’t possibly accept this.”
“We gave you our cards for a reason,” Ford says, taking his card from my hand. “If you won’t use them, then we’ll use them for you.”
“Don’t you dare go buying me something!” I protest.
Ford eyes the gloves that are being neatly wrapped in delicate tissue and shiny wrapping paper for his father. “Gloves are a smart choice. He’ll appreciate those.”
“Oh. Thank you.” I’m glad to know that I got him something he can at least somewhat appreciate, even if it’s not super personal.
“You should have some too.” Ford walks over to the glove section and selects a pair of white leather gloves.
I blink, surprised that he seems so confident about what size I need. He walks over and pays for the gloves without even glancing at my hands or asking me to try them on.
Once they’re paid for, he holds them out to me immediately. “You need to protect yourself from the cold.”
“Don’t give me an excuse,” I fire back. “You’re just trying to compete with your friends.”
To my surprise, Ford doesn’t tease back or make a quip. “No,” he says seriously. “I’m trying to take care of you.”
I don’t know what to say to that. My heart flips and my mouth nearly drops open. I have to clench my jaw to keep from looking too ridiculous.
Ford watches me intently and I quickly put the gloves on. I feel like he’s given me a silent order, and a hot shiver works up my spine.
Gabriel neatly takes my things and puts them into my beautiful new purse, then gives my old one a distasteful look.
“It’s sturdy and clean,” I point out defensively.
“Of course. You always take excellent care of your things.” Gabriel marches out of the store while Hayden takes all my wrapped packages to carry for me. Ford smirks and gently puts a hand at the small of my back to guide me out of the store.
There’s a large donation box set up outside, with decorations on the side announcing it’s for donations for families in need at Christmas—toys, clothes, and other essentials welcome.
Gabriel drops my old purse neatly into the bin and closes the lid, brushing off his hands. “There.”
I laugh, half in humor, half in disbelief. I can’t quite believe that this is happening. But it seems that all three men are determined to look out for me like this. I don’t know if it’s competitiveness, their protective alpha natures, or…
Or something more.
“There you are!” Lydia calls, waving at us from down the street. “We’re all ready to go if you guys are!”
“Yup, I think we’re all set,” Ford agrees.
“Well, thank goodness,” Elaine says, checking her watch. “We’re right on schedule.”
I have to smother a laugh. On just about anyone else it might be stressful to have Elaine so focused on her busy schedule, everything planned down to the minute, but she’s just so happy and excited about it all, and it’s so nice to have someone who cares so much about doing all the proper Christmas activities. I find it all delightful.
We get back to the house where the tree has been delivered and set up in the main living room, the furniture rearranged so that there’s plenty of room for the tree to shine. Elaine has the four men retrieve boxes of decorations from storage so that we can trim it ourselves.
I still feel fluttery from everything that just happened in town. The presents, the way they used their cards for me and were upset that I didn’t use them for myself—I don’t know how to process it all. Well, I know how I feel. I feel heated all over, almost feverish with it. And giddy.
What I don’t know is what to think, or what to do about it.
I help Lydia sort out the string lights so we can wind them around the tree. I hope that focusing on something practical like this will ground me. But the fluttery feeling in my stomach, and the heat coursing through my body, doesn’t go away. In fact, it’s getting worse.
I stand up from where I was kneeling over the box of lights, and I feel woozy. I have to brace myself against the nearby chair. That can’t be right.
This isn’t just butterflies and jitters from the attention of three gorgeous men. This is something else entirely.
“Are you okay?” Lydia asks me quietly.
“I…” A wave of something between nausea and dizziness hits me hard. I need to sit down—I probably stood up too quickly?—
I move toward the armchair, but the world tilts dangerously, my vision goes fuzzy around the edges—and the next thing I know, everything goes dark.