Ryn, Hattie and Pepper were all over taking care of my “heel problem.”
I did not think I had a “heel problem.”
I thought I had a driving need to get to Fortnum’s because Gert was going to be there soon to look over the girls to make her determination if they were good matches for the guys (but mostly, I figured, so she could get out of the house).
Smithie heard of this so he was showing too, though I didn’t know why, since he already knew everyone. Probably because he considered himself our second father, the brand of that Smithie embodied included sticking his nose into everything.
And Lottie was not about to let her handiwork be picked over without her input, so she was going to be there as well.
But most of all, I was finding shopping, not my favorite pastime, was giving me a driving need for one of Tex’s Textuals.
I glanced over at Axl, who was standing slightly removed in a zone where he could see everything, but still close enough he could get to us quickly.
He had his arms crossed on his wide chest, making his pecs bulge and the sinews in his forearms ripple. His long legs were planted. And from about two point oh five seconds after he positioned himself, the shoe department suddenly became crowded with females, regardless (or maybe because) of the fact he looked like he’d prefer to be strapped down with someone poking needles into his forced-open eyes.
So, last, I needed to get Axl out of Cherry Creek mall.
I gave the girls a hang-on-one-second finger, walked over to him, and his gaze went from scanning the store to scanning me from my head, past my NASA tee, my faded, distressed jeans, down to my red patent-leather sandaled feet.
“Hey,” I said when I stopped close.
“Dig you, babe, but if we’re not out of here in fifteen minutes, I’ll either kill somebody or fake a heart attack,” he declared.
Another “babe” from another of Mag’s boys.
I was almost not registering them anymore.
And I had an affirmative.
I needed to get Axl out of there.
But, as to the matter at hand.
“What do you think of these shoes?” I asked, sticking out a foot.
He cast his extraordinary light-blue eyes at my foot.
They came back up to my face.
I held my breath at his expression.
“You don’t wanna know what I think of those shoes.”
Oh.
All right.
Well then.
“Okay. What do you think Mag will think of these shoes?” I asked a different question.
“You two are moving in together,” he noted.
“Yes,” I confirmed.
“Which, I’m assuming, means you two enjoy getting it on.”
I pressed my lips together.
He took that correctly as a positive response, though I wasn’t sure it was indicative of the grand scale of just how positive that response was, but I suspected he didn’t want to know that part.
“Mag could have a severe case of West Nile virus, and if you were in the mood, you could put those on, and he’d still do you.”
I turned instantly and announced loudly to the girls, “I’m getting them.”
“Woo-hoo!” Ryn hooted, throwing her hands up and doing a shimmy, making her hair sway and her boobs jiggle, which in turn brightened the day of another male who was shopping with his partner and clearly finding it tedious.
Until now.
I turned back to Axl. “We’ll get these and then go get Textuals.”
He jerked up his chin and didn’t hide his relief.
He also didn’t ask what a Textual was, considering I’d introduced all the boys to them and now it was our group coffee drink.
Okay, maybe it was weird, but I thought there was something super cool about having a gaggle of friends who’d assumed a group coffee drink.
I’d never had that.
I really liked it.
And maybe it was also weird that I couldn’t wait to introduce the girls to Textuals so they could join my coffee group.
The more, I was finding, the merrier.
I cast a glance at the girls again, and now that the decision had been made for me to get the shoes, I saw they’d risen from their chairs and started to browse.
And this included Hattie.
Though she did it casting sidelong looks at Axl.
Longing sidelong looks at Axl.
Something she’d been doing since he picked us all up for this outing.
And here he was, standing removed, which meant distant, and badass, which meant unapproachable.
Hmm.
I edged closer to him and said, “You know, no bullets have flown for weeks and Hattie’s right there. You could probably take five minutes while I check out to have a chat with her. And then, on the way to Fortnum’s, she could sit in the front seat.”
Those light-blue eyes intensified on me and I saw they could become ice-blue eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re happy,” he stated.
“Yeeeessss.” I drew it out.
And I was.
And not simply because no bullets were flying.
Mag asked me to move in on a Sunday, and it was only Tuesday, so it wasn’t like in the intervening time we’d arranged for me to get out of my lease, moved my stuff and I’d redecorated his bedroom (because it was a little sparse in there and veritably screamed MAN!) and reorganized his cupboards (something, we disagreed, he needed me to do).
But I had my vinyl and my Chucks at his place so it already kind of felt like home.
“People who are happy want others to be happy like they are,” Axl shared. “Especially when they’re the gettin’-some-on-a-frequent-basis kind of happy. They want everyone walking in a fog of oxytocin, endorphins and pheromones like they are.”
“I’m not sure I’m in a fog,” I sniffed.
His lips quirked. “Evie, you decided in a split second you’re gonna buy a pair of shoes, and with your style, the only time you’re gonna wear ’em is when you wanna make Mag jump you. You probably aren’t ever even gonna wear those shoes out of the house. You’re in a sex-happy fog.”
I could no longer debate this issue, mostly because he was right.
“Hattie’s really sweet,” I cajoled.
“Hattie the way Hattie is, Hattie’s gotta make the first move,” he returned.
“Hattie’s not gonna make the first move,” I retorted. “She’s crazy shy.”
“I know that. And I misspoke,” he replied. “I made the first move. And she blew me off. So what I should have said was, she wants to give it a shot, she’s gotta make the second move.”
He made a move?
When did he make a move?
“You made a move?” I asked.
Axl sighed.
He’d made a move.
And she blew him off.
Ouch.
This was disappointing, and sucky for Axl, but it really wasn’t a surprise.
“How about I prime her for you to make a second move?” I suggested.
“Evie, you and Lots are just gonna have to chill.”
Lottie might not be there coaxing me to buy sex shoes.
But I knew she was riding the high of her success with me and Mag, so she’d been on all the guys to step shit up.
I thought about what Boone had said, and asked, “Does this mean you’re gonna find someone else?”
“Babe, I’m not gonna go monk, waiting for a woman I want who doesn’t want me.”
Okay, good.
He wanted her.
Because of that, I leaned closer, took a chance and probably broke the girlfriend code (but for a good cause, and that cause was partly for the good of my girlfriend, as well as my guy friend).
I then whispered, “I think she wants you too.”
“Evie—”
I heard my phone ring upon cutting him off, saying, “Axl.”
He got closer too.
&
nbsp; And he did this to say, “Think about it. Lots put you and Mag together, you met him, you were interested. He wasn’t ready to move on from Nikki, had other things going on with his life, and made it clear he had no intention of going there. Would you be all in to put yourself out there?”
The very thought of that made me shiver.
Dammit, I could no longer debate this either, because he was again right.
And now I was all worried about him because he was hanging with us, Hattie was right there, and even though she was into him like he was into her, if he’d made a move, and she’d rebuffed him, this could not be super fun for him to be close to her.
But, and I might have been wrong, she was crazy shy, and he was a commando, so really, it was up to him to pull his finger out.
I decided not to carry on with this (at that time). I’d get back into it with him later.
Instead, I gave him a look, turned, huffed off toward my still-ringing phone, and made a mental note that huffing off in heels seemed way more dramatic than doing it in Rothy’s (or the like).
I pulled my phone out of the bag, saw it said DANNY on the screen (obviously, I’d changed his name in my phone, though I’d managed to refrain from changing it to MY HOT GUY COMMANDO BOYFRIEND), and all at once, I plopped down, leaned forward to unstrap my shoes and took the call.
This was unwise.
It meant I lost my balance and nearly fell flat on my face.
But thankfully I shifted my weight fast enough to my ass that didn’t happen.
“Hey,” I greeted once I was safely seated.
“Hey,” he replied. “What’s up?”
I felt a gooey feeling in my stomach because he did this. He called just to touch base. Connect while we were apart. Find out what was going on. How I was doing. Discuss dinner options. Reaffirm that he did not want me to move his plates to the cupboard closer to the dishwasher (which was insane, you just took them out of the machine, reached up, and boom, plate put away—he had spices and oils there, which was madness—he said he prepared food in that zone, so he needed the spices and oils to be handy, and although this seemed logical, he was still wrong).
“We’re at the Nordstrom shoe department,” I told him.
“Is Elvira there with you?”
Although I’d heard this name, and knew she worked with the team, I did not know this woman, so I could not fathom why Mag was asking this question.
I still answered, “No.”
“I think there’s a chair there, upholstered in purple, that’s reserved for her.”
Ah.
So Elvira liked shoes.
Apparently, a lot.
“And that’s the chair she was sitting in when her husband proposed to her,” Mag carried on.
Ah.
So Elvira might like shoes but a trip to Nordstrom for her was a sentimental journey.
I grinned and slid the first shoe off. “It’s just the girls and Axl and I.”
“This means Axl didn’t tell her where you were.”
I kept grinning but said nothing.
“It also means Axl probably wants to shoot me right now,” he went on.
I continued grinning and did not attempt to deny this truth as I went after the buckle on the other shoe and asked, “What are you up to?”
“Fighting the urge to find Mo and hold him at gunpoint to tell me where they disappeared Snag so I can find that asshole and strangle him, because I got at least another week of being benched because of this shoulder and sitting around on my ass is driving me up the wall.”
I sat still, one hand with the phone to my ear, bent over, the fingers of the other hand on the strap of my shoe, and I said nothing.
This went on so long, Mag called, “Evie?”
“What does ‘disappeared’ mean?” I whispered.
It was Mag’s turn to be silent.
Oh boy.
“Do I not want to know?” I asked.
“No, you don’t want to know,” he answered.
Oh boy!
Moving on.
“We’re almost done here,” I shared. “I gotta purchase my sex shoes and then we’re going to Fortnum’s. Can you get a break and come over? I’ll order you a coffee so it’ll be all ready for you.”
Mag was again silent.
Therefore, I called, “Danny?”
“What are sex shoes?”
Did I add the word “sex” to “shoes”?
I did.
“You’ll find out,” I muttered.
It was Mag sounding happy, very happy, when he replied, “Pleased as fuck you’re not on at Smithie’s tonight.”
I was too.
What I was not pleased about was that I was down with Mag’s plan to get me where I wanted to be with work and education and life, but this meant I would soon be putting in notice.
I’d taken off the second shoe and was replacing them in their box when the sales assistant, sniffing out a commission, materialized out of thin air.
I handed the box to the assistant and he floated off as I hastily pulled on my footies, shoved my feet into my Chucks and tied them.
All this I did, still connected to Mag, but I did it silently, deep in thought and with the phone pressed to my ear and shoulder.
“Evie, you there?” I heard in my ear.
I grabbed my bag, got up, and just in case any of the girls, who had at this point dispersed widely to peruse the wares, could hear, whispered, “I was just thinking of the impending task of putting in notice at the club.”
“You’re not gonna lose them, not any of them, honey. You just won’t have to be naked when you’re around them anymore,” Mag replied.
One could say that would be good.
I was walking to the register as I shared, “I wish I’d made friends with them before I was imminently going to quit. I mean, we were friends. But, you know, now we’re shopping friends which means we’re friends friends.”
“I know, baby,” he murmured soothingly.
“It probably would have been more fun to be naked around them if we’d gotten to the point of friends friends.”
“Gonna have to share some truths with my girl,” he muttered.
“Sorry?”
“Evie, baby, honey…”
Oh no.
It was the double-barreled endearment, but this one didn’t sound like it was gonna go all that well.
“…you know I’m into you,” he continued. “Way into you. And I’m a one-woman kind of man. You being that one woman, you get that?”
“I get it,” I said, pulling my credit card out of my wallet awkwardly since I was doing it one handed, at the same time wondering why he was telling me this, at the same time kinda fretting that he was telling me this at all because I already sorta assumed it.
“But your friends are hot.”
I suddenly needed to choke down a giggle.
Mag kept talking.
“So, just sayin’, words like ‘would have been fun to be naked around them,’ especially about a minute after you told me you’re buyin’ sex shoes, uh…that’s a no-go.”
I couldn’t hold my giggle back and thus let it loose at the same time I asked curiously, “Which one would be your first choice?”
“You actually asking that shit?”
“Axl, Auggie, Boone, and that’s a tough call and I reserve the right to switch the order and do it frequently, depending on who’s currently being sweet to me and/or keeping me alive.”
He burst out laughing.
I shoved my card in the reader, smiling and listening to him do it, and when he was done, I prompted, “Well?”
“Hattie, Pepper, Ryn,” he answered.
Surprising.
“Really?”
“I guess I got a thing for the shy ones,” he said.
“I’m not shy,” I declared, pulling my card out of the reader.
“Baby,” he said in a voice that made me want to strap on my sex shoes right then, beam wherever he was, and make
him jump me, “you gave yourself a concussion slamming your head in the counter going after some runaway lip gloss the first night you met me.”
“I’m klutzy, not shy.”
“You’re klutzy because you’re shy. Or at least you were then. And, just in case you intend to twist that, being that landed you a commando.”
“My heart’s desire,” I teased.
“Yeah, it landed that same thing for me too.”
I quit moving.
Entirely.
Because he’d just called me his heart’s desire.
Worth a repeat.
Daniel Magnusson just called me his heart’s desire!
And I knew, to my bones, that had very little (okay, maybe a wee bit) to do with me making him hamburgers.
I was frozen, but Mag’s mouth could move, and it did to speak.
“Though I’m down with thinning out my tees, minimally, and my socks, maximally, to give you space for your shit, we’re not moving the spices.”
Sneak attack!
“Don’t say something so sweet it knocks the wind out of me and then get in a dinger about the spices, Danny,” I returned. “Everyone knows you keep the dishes by the dishwasher.”
“I’m not everyone, Evie. And neither are you. And honey, that is what landed you a commando.”
Hmm.
“I’ll give you that, but you can prepare food at the island. We’ll go to the Container Store. Get a spice tray to put in one of the island drawers. That way, they’ll be right there for you.”
“Babe?”
“What?”
“Straight up, you give me you in sex shoes, you could put the spices in the hallway, and I wouldn’t give a shit.”
I felt gooey again.
Hot and gooey.
Even so.
“Stop being so sweet when sex shoes are hours and hours away.”
“Preview at Fortnum’s. I’ll meet you there in half an hour. Order me a Textual if you’re there before me.”
See?
Totally got the guys into Textuals.
“Same for me, if you beat us there,” I replied.
“Right. Later, baby.”
“Later, Danny.”
“And, Evie?” he called before I hung up.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Babe.”
He said no more.
I wondered if I was supposed to interpret something from that one word. His tone sounded kinda heavy, but not in a bad way.
However, I was unable to interpret that one word.
Dream Maker Page 31