Knight Nostalgia: A Knights of the Board Room Anthology(32)
Her lips twisted. “Your advice boils down to, ‘Throw away the fucking rubbers and just get it done. Once conception happens, there’s no turning back, so no use worrying about it anymore’?”
“Precisely. From there, you’ll just love the ride. I mean, you babysit Angelica without any worries, right?”
“With Peter. And Savannah and Matt’s live-in housekeeper.”
“Remember what I just said about staff and Peter’s bank account? I’m sure there’s a sharp-eyed grandmother at that church of yours who wouldn’t mind having a part-time job that involved doting on a cute toddler.”
She digested that. He expected she wasn’t just going over his dubious pearls of wisdom. She was probably also remembering things Peter had said, before he’d managed to piss her off and the words had been obscured by feminine temper. A few moments later, she set her jaw in a way he recognized well enough to bite back a satisfied smile. Meeting Max’s gaze once more, he saw the same approval there.
“Okay. I’ll think about it.” She took a breath and put her hand out for her glasses. He picked them up and perched them on her nose. Their position made her look owlish as she turned her face in his direction and spoke dryly. “You’re all big talk when it’s about me and Peter. What’ll you do when Marcie says she wants a baby?”
“We haven’t even set a date,” he informed her. Or done a formal proposal, but he didn’t add that. “But if a baby’s in the mix, marriage is coming first. I’m traditional that way.”
“Marcie isn’t the hold-up on a date. So, when you do marry her, what will you do when she wants a baby?”
“We really need to stop letting you women talk to one another.”
“Yeah, like that would ever happen. Avoiding the question, counselor.”
Ben sighed and pinched her again, this time hoping to leave a bruise. From her yelp and swat, he figured he was successful, but he relented and answered.
“Freak the fuck out and then give her what she wants. As always.”
Dana chuckled. “That’s two hundred. And you’re already freaking out about the marriage thing.”
“We’re working on it.” He flicked her ear. “Don’t be a pest. And you curse worse than I do, Army grunt.”
She snorted, but cocked her head with that mischievous look that told him she was feeling more herself again. “Sooo…this necking thing?”
“Sorry, I prefer this face to launch ships, not be keelhauled by one. Namely, your husband’s Bass boat.”
“Well, why don’t you and Max neck, and I’ll ‘watch’.” She fluttered her fingers in tactile illustration.
He shuddered. “Out. Go buy more combat boots.”
“You have to come in,” she reminded him. “That’s part of the conditions of the shopping spree. You are a full participant in the whole torturous thing.”
“Don’t remind me. But I’m not trying on any stilettos. Those things pinch my toes.”
She chuckled, but paused, putting a hand on the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt. “Will you do me a favor?”
“Yes, I will text your husband and tell him you don’t think he’s a total a-hole. But we both know you still love me better.”
The shoe store was one of those artsy places where the shoes were purportedly limited edition unique designs, as much art as functional. At least, that was what Ben picked up from the pink, flowing script teaser line etched on the double doors. When it came to his own preferences, he was good with anything with a four-inch plus toothpick heel, and wanted to mandate that women wear them all the time. The thought called to mind the pleasing vision of Marcie’s hips swaying when she wore that style of shoe to work at Savannah’s office, and met him for lunch.
True to an upscale boutique, the store had eye-catching wall art and sculptures to frame their shoe selection displays. Fashionable print sofas and easy chairs, as well as gilt-edged mirrors, ensured their patrons could try on the shoes in a so-not-Pic-n-Pay atmosphere.
The women had spread out. Though there were other patrons, Ben noted that the storeowner and her one employee were quick to respond to any questions from his group. Even if they hadn’t seen them emerge from the limo, they recognized women with ample money ready to spend.
He found his brat and her sister oohing over a pair of clear glass-slipper-style heels in the toothpick style he appreciated. Delicate beadwork formed a star-shaped flower on the top and trimmed the sides. The beadwork glittered with the understated luster of diamonds, though Ben assumed they weren’t actual gems, since the shoes weren’t locked under glass.
Marcie took a seat in one of the chairs, and removed her boots and the thin socks she wore beneath them. The sleek-looking brunette employee in a pencil skirt and elegant blouse who’d brought her the size she wanted asked if she needed help fitting the shoes, but Marcie shook her head with a smile.
Ben drew closer as the employee went to see if anyone else needed her help. Marcie lifted her brows in surprise as he dropped to a knee beside her.
“I am a full-service shopping escort.” But when he would have pulled the first shoe out of the tissue-lined box, she stopped him with a hand on his wrist.
“I have to put on some of those first,” she explained.