“Language, soldier,” he reproved, but he couldn’t help feeling pleased that her spirits and full-on sass seemed to be restored. It loosened the feeling in his gut the little exchange with Cass had created.
He fished out two of the little brown balls from the silver box and stretched them into their foot-covering shape before he worked them over Dana’s burgundy-painted toenails. After he slipped one of the heels onto her foot, he had to roll up the cuff of her jeans so he could adjust the straps. They wrapped around her ankle enough times to look like a cuff. “I assume you could crisscross those all the way to the knee if you want,” he observed, “though this isn’t a bad look.”
She reached down to feel. “I’ll bet. Put the other one on so I can sashay around here and make everyone jealous with how hot I look.”
“Bossy. What’s the magic word, pain in my ass?”
“Please.” She dropped her tone, a seductive tease. He shook his head.
“I will spank you in this store, young lady. Right in front of everyone.”
“Promises, promises.”
They were both grinning as he took her hand and lifted her to her feet. Though the rolled-up jeans detracted somewhat from the look, he could easily imagine her in the sleeveless gold cocktail dress she’d worn to a recent charity benefit with Peter. The shoes would add the right fuck-me-now touch, ensuring Peter would do just that before she even walked out their front door in them. If he took her to their favorite club, he’d probably strip her down to just her collar and those shoes while he thrust into her heated, wet pussy.
“Those are keepers,” he told her, clearing his throat.
“Sounds like it,” Marcie said, reappearing at his side, her shoes in a sleek silver bag she had hanging from her arm. She bumped him in gentle amusement, though she added under her breath, “I told Cass to cut it the hell out.”
“It’s okay,” he said, sliding his arm around her waist. “She’s entitled to be protective of you. Don’t worry about it, brat. I’m not that breakable.”
He kept his tone light, though her shrewd glance said she knew the barb had hit deeper. But he didn’t want the tone of this trip to be tainted by it, so he squeezed her again, until she relented and gave him a smile and nod.
When Dana came back to them, guiding herself toward their voices with her cane, Marcie reached out and drew the woman to her. Winding her arms around her, and pressing her body close, Marcie spoke against the shell of Dana’s ear.
“You should see his face, Dana. Those shoes definitely do the trick.”
There were two men in the store, accompanying their respective women, but when one of them walked into a shoe display, Ben deduced they were both about to be in a lot of trouble. It was scientifically impossible for a straight man to keep his tongue from rolling out of his mouth when he saw two hot women twined around one another with obvious sensual intent.
“Okay, if you don’t want me to turn this shopping trip around, stop that,” he said, taking pity on his fellow males. “You’re both such troublemakers.”
Marcie chuckled and brushed her lips against Dana’s mouth. Ben counted himself lucky—well, in the current environment—that they didn’t use tongue. Before he could admonish her further, Marcie returned to Ben’s side, taking his harder squeeze of her hip and scolding look with a distracting flush and lowering of her lashes. His submissive tease.
Savannah and Rachel were approaching to join their circle, so Marcie straightened and resumed her normal in-public behavior, though she stayed leaning against Ben, which he liked. She gestured at the other two women. “Found anything you can’t live without?”
“Not for me today,” Savannah said. “But Rachel found the most adorable pair of white sneakers. Dana, they’re hand-painted with pictures of Japanese cherry blossoms, and the laces are brown, tipped with little pompoms of green fabric leaves.”
Rachel had been holding them at her side, but when Savannah had her lift them for Marcie to see, Ben caught a glimpse of the price. The tread of the sole was shaped like a many-limbed cherry tree. “They’re canvas sneakers,” he said disbelievingly.
“I know,” Rachel said. “The price is ridiculous. I don’t need them. I just thought they were—”
“Give me those,” Ben said, nipping them from her hand. “Price is not your concern today. Actually, any day, since I know what Jon makes. If he’s not bankrupting himself on gadgets, he wants to be spending his money on you. I was just awestruck by what women will pay for things they put on their feet.”
“Didn’t someone already mention the cost of your dress shirts?” Dana asked. “The ones you could get lookalikes from JC Penney at a percent of the cost?”
“Do you want those red shoes, or do you want to bust my balls?”
“Can’t I do both?”
The next stop was the “poppy” store. Otherwise known as the J. Wallace Art Gallery, it had extensive offerings in various mediums from New Orleans artists, as well as pieces the gallery owner collected from around the world. With Max as an escort, Dana decided to walk down to a nearby candy store to get some snacks.
“The gallery folks wouldn’t take too kindly to me ‘seeing’ their pricey 3D pieces with my hands,” she noted.
“I bet they have a kid area where you can play with Fisher Price blocks,” Ben responded.
“Just for that, not bringing you back a praline,” Dana said, linking her arm with Max’s, her fingers curling over his substantial biceps.
Ben grinned and followed the other women into the gallery. He took a seat in one of the cushioned chairs at the front, a useful indulgence for patrons not in the mood for art gazing, but who wanted to give their companions time to do so. It let him people-watch, or, in this case, women-watch. As she’d mentioned, Savannah was obviously looking for whimsical pieces for the nursery. The gallery had a couple items on loan from the Blue Dog gallery up the street, so she’d stopped before one that showed the iconic blue dogs in four different colored squares. He anticipated a print of it might become the next piece in Angelica’s room.
While Savannah and Matt had enough money to buy original art, neither of them cared to spend impractically. Since she changed out the art regularly in the baby’s room, a print would be more than sufficient. Always observant, Savannah noted his regard and gave him an absent half smile he returned. Then she shifted her attention back to her art perusal and moved onward.