‘Tell me, Livy.’
‘Fine!’ I snap, reaching up on my tiptoes to push my mouth to his ear. ‘Big feet are said to equal big cocks.’ My face flames as I feel his head nod thoughtfully against me, his hair tickling my cheek.
‘Is that so?’ he asks, maintaining all seriousness. The bastard.
‘Yes.’
‘Interesting,’ he muses, then blows hot breath into my ear. It knocks me even more off-kilter and my stability fails me, sending me on a little stagger forward. I collide with his chest on a gasp. ‘Okay there?’ His tone is loaded with conceit.
‘Fine and dandy,’ I mutter, forcing some strength into my weakness and pulling out of his chest.
‘Fine and dandy,’ he muses quietly, a roving eye watching me struggling to compose myself. ‘Oh look.’ He nods over my shoulder, prompting me to turn. ‘Here are my size elevens.’
I chuckle to myself, earning a poke in the back by Miller and a puzzled look from the sales assistant. ‘Elevens!’ she sings, making my laughter cross the line into uncontrollable body spasms. ‘You okay, miss?’
‘Yes!’ I yell, turning away and picking up the first shoe I can find, anything to distract me from the size elevens. I cough when I look at the size, seeing it stated in big, bold type that the shoe I’ve chosen to distract myself with is, in fact, a size eleven also. I fold over on a titter and shove it back.
‘She’s fine,’ Miller confirms. I’m not looking at him, but I know he’s staring at my back, appearing expressionless to the assistant, but he’ll have that playful twinkle in his eyes. If I could face Miller and the flirty assistant without snorting all over them, then I’d be swivelling fast to catch the wonderful sight. But I can’t stop laughing, my shoulders bouncing violently.
Studying the random shoe carefully, grinning like an idiot, I listen to the crumpling of tissue paper as the assistant removes the boots from the box. ‘Do you need a shoehorn, sir?’ she asks.
‘Doubt it,’ Miller grumbles, probably inspecting the boots and mentally complaining about their lack of leather soles. I pull it together and rotate slowly, finding Miller sitting on a suede seat, wrestling his foot into a boot. Observing quietly, as does the assistant, I think how lovely the boots are, all casual in soft, worn brown leather.
‘Comfy?’ I ask hopefully, bracing myself for his scoff, but he ignores me and stands, looking down at his feet before hastily returning to sitting.
He undoes the laces and places the boot neatly back in the box. I want to scream my excitement when I see him shift it, making the pair as neat as possible amid the tissue paper. He likes them, and I know that for sure because he has an appreciation for his possessions and those boots are now his possession. ‘They’ll do,’ he says to himself, like he doesn’t want to admit it out loud.
My grin is back. He will concede, damn him. ‘Do. You. Like?’
Tying his laces with the utmost care, he turns his face up and studies me. ‘Yes.’ He draws the word out with raised brows, daring me to make a big deal of it.
I can’t hide my happiness. I know it, Miller knows it, and when I grab the box, then turn and thrust it into the assistant’s hand with a huge smile, she knows it, too. ‘We’ll take them, thank you.’
‘Wonderful, I’ll place them behind the counter.’ She’s off with the box, leaving Miller and me alone.
I scoop up the jeans and T-shirt. ‘Let’s try these on.’ His sigh of tiredness won’t make me give in. Nothing will. I’ll get him kitted out in a casual outfit if it kills me. ‘This way.’ I march off in the direction of the changing rooms, knowing Miller is following because my skin is alight with the signs of his close proximity.