The Penalty Box (Vancouver Wolves Hockey #3)(21)

“I just love hockey so much,” she gushed as she smiled in a daze up at his face.

I felt like the third wheel on a date. I spun around in his size-thirteen flip-flops and headed towards the door. What I needed was the Gap.

“Baby Krista.” He caught up with me. “Where are you going?”

“This place is out of my price range.”

“Buy anything you want. I’m paying.”

Even worse. “We should go someplace more economical.”

He looked over his shoulder. “Can we get some help here?”

The woman rushed forward. “What can I do?”

“We need a dressing room, and she needs some clothes.”

The woman nodded. “Follow me.”

She led me to the back, to the change rooms, peppering me with questions about my size and preferred styles.

“I need an outfit for my office job,” I tried to explain.

She all but shoved me into a change room.

A few moments later, she returned with an armful of clothes. “Let me know if you need a smaller size or a different color. I’ll be back.”

I stood there, looking at the eye-watering price tags of the clothes she had hung on the rack. I had just stepped into the most gorgeous pair of dress pants and a soft sweater when she knocked on the door.

She bustled into the change room, tugging at the pants. “Those fit you perfectly. And the color of that sweater is gorgeous with your skin.” She tugged at my hand, pulling me out of the dressing room.

She spun me around in a complete circle in front of the three-way mirror. I looked different: more polished, more expensive.

“What do you think?”

“I love it,” I breathed, wishing I could buy this outfit.

She beamed and shoved me back towards the dressing room. “We will take that as a yes.”

Twenty minutes later, the yes pile was growing at an alarming rate. I had to hand it to the woman. She knew fashion. She somehow coordinated a mix-and-match work wardrobe. Beautiful pants, sweaters, blouses, and stunning dresses that perfectly fit my body, giving shape to my long thin waist while accentuating the curve of my hips and bust. If I showed up to work wearing these clothes, Krista would have a gleeful shit fit.

I decided I would treat myself, purchase one outfit and ask to put some other clothes on layaway.

When I finished dressing, I found the woman at the front folding clothes into bags while another one rang them up. Mica had reappeared and stood by the counter, his wallet out.

Oh no. There was no way I could let Mica buy my entire yes pile. These clothes were insanely expensive, and it would take me light years to repay him.

I moved to Mica’s side and put my hand on his big forearm. “Mica.”

He glanced down at me, reading my expression. “You need clothes.”

“I don’t need these clothes.”

He handed the woman his black credit card. “You need clothes.”

Mica continued to drag me into shop after shop. My protests did little to deter him. While clerks worked to outfit me, he would disappear with my bags and reappear empty-handed to pay.

Somehow, he systematically outfitted me, making sure I had casual clothes, jeans, dress clothes, and shoes and boots for every occasion. The mental tab I was keeping on how much he had spent made me break out in hives.

“We should go,” I begged. “I have more clothes than I know what to do with.”

“One more stop.” He tugged me up onto an escalator. Petals. Oh, sweet baby Jesus. He steered me into one of the most coveted and high-end lingerie shops.

I needed underwear, but I never stepped foot in a place this expensive. Bras started at $200. My face flamed hot as he gently pushed me into the store. To my relief, he disappeared. The women insisted on fitting me for a bra, and then brought a steady stream of items that were so beautiful I wanted to cry. I was used to wearing ratty sports bras and plain cotton panties. These items made me feel sexy—like a woman.

I balked when the woman brought me a baby doll set.

“I don’t need this.”

She hung it up on the rack. “I think your boyfriend does.”

“Excuse me?”

She glanced over her shoulder with a sparkle in her eye. “You should treat him.”

My cheeks stained hot pink as I touched the almost sheer baby doll set. I didn’t need lingerie, but she had been so helpful, I decided I would be a good sport, try it on and then politely decline. Except I loved the baby doll set. It was so sexy and so feminine. I stood staring at my reflection, debating if I should allow myself this one treat.

The woman returned to the change room, looking critically at my outfit. “You look gorgeous and sexy as hell in that.”

I flushed. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, that one is a keeper. Try this one on.” She shoved a pink, scalloped-lace teddy into my hands. “I picked this out. I think you’ll love it.”

The outfit screamed sex. It also made me look a thousand times hotter than I had ever looked in my life. I stared in wonder at my lush, lace-wrapped body. I loved how I felt in the teddy. I didn’t understand how bits of lace could make me feel so powerful and strong, but they did.

“How are you doing?” The sales clerk knocked on the door.

I opened the door. “I want this one.”