Without a Hitch(37)

“Seriously, Blaine. I need this shoe. Which way do I go? Gah! What do you think you’re doing?” I gasp as he scoops me up in a wedding hold and starts jogging down the street.

“We have to go almost eight blocks. You cannot run in those heels.”

“Put me down, you idiot. You don’t even know me.”

“Pepper? I know what you taste like. I know what sounds you make when you come, and I know how my name sounds on your lips as you do. I know you well enough to get you this damn shoe so the mum from hell can have her perfect wedding.”

“Blaine!” I screech. “I don’t even have any money on me. Put me down. I…”

“I’m not worried about it.” He doesn’t slow down and doesn’t seem to lose his breath as he continues to barrel down 5th Avenue, barking orders. With a hand around my back and one under my thighs, I have no choice but to curl into his chest so I don’t bounce wildly against him.

“Put me down, Blaine. Seriously. I can run just fine. Plus, I need to get my wallet.” He blows past city block after city block but never releases me. “Do you have any idea how much these shoes will cost?”

“We’re about to find out,” he growls, drawing my gaze to his lips. Shouldn’t he be out of breath by now? Geez! “I know Audra is a sweet girl, but you seem very invested in making sure these weddings are perfect. Are you a wedding planner or something?”

I tense, and he glances down at me. I stare over his shoulder. “Something like that. But it’s a wedding, Blaine. The one day where you get to be the princess in your life story. That means something.” He grunts, and I peer into his eyes, swirling pools of emotion that he quickly shuts down.

“You don’t believe in love?”

“I believe in love, Pepper. I think I do, anyway. I love my parents and my sister. I’ve been in love before,” he admits bitterly. “But I know what weddings can do. How that single piece of paper can ruin people.”

“You’re a commitment-phobe,” I say in understanding.

“On the contrary. I very much believe in commitment. I don’t believe you need a big, flashy show of it or a piece of paper declaring it.”

I have an inexplicable pain in my chest at his words. “Th-That’s so sad.”

“Prince Charming is for fairy tales, Pepper. I fully believe in monogamy, but putting the pressure of forever on something that can never be just destines it for failure.”

His words foolishly cause tears to spring to my eyes.

“Love, in its purest form, is a choice. Love is the commitment. The paper? As you say, and the flashy show? Those are just expressions of it.”

“You can have commitment, Pepper. But every commitment, contract, and choice comes to an end eventually. Even if it has a better outcome by ending, it always ends.”

Just as I’m about to start kicking so he’ll put me down, he nods to a doorman and places me on the sidewalk. The doors open soundlessly, and with a hand at the small of my back, he guides me inside.

“Mr. Blaine!” A saleswoman coos the instant we step inside the store. “How lovely to see you again! Your sister said to expect you. I believe we have just what you’re looking for.”

Blaine grips my wrist and holds up the shoe. “What size?”

“Um, a five.”

“Come right this way.” We follow the woman deeper into the store. “I’ll see what we have in the back.”

She leaves us alone, and I can’t bring myself to meet Blaine’s gaze, so I wander through the displays. My chest feels like an elephant is sitting on me, and it’s so unreasonable I want to yell at myself. My eyes catch on a pair of sparkling, strappy heels, and I run one finger along the thin ankle clasp. When I catch sight of the price, my hand snaps back like it’s on fire. They cost more than my rent and car payments combined.

“I want to see you in those and nothing else.” The heat from Blaine’s words caresses my skin like a kiss and a promise of all things naughty.

“I have more responsible uses for that amount of money,” I mutter.

I feel his gaze on me, but he says nothing more. The sales associate comes back with a box in her hand and dollar signs in her eyes. Blaine takes the box from her and removes the shoes.

“Put them on my bill,” he orders, taking my hand in his and dragging me behind him.

“Mr. Blaine?” the doorman calls as we hurry outside. Blaine pauses with an irritated expression.

“Miss Nova called. She said you may need this.” He holds out something that looks like a ten-year-old’s scooter.

“What in bloody hell is that?”

“An electric scooter, sir.” The doorman appears to be holding in laughter, but I don’t. I laugh out loud as if I don’t have a momager waiting to cut me down to size. Blaine stares between the two of us. He’s a horrified Adonis, and it makes him even sexier.

“Yes, I see what it is. What am I supposed to do with it?”

“We ride it,” I say with as much seriousness as I can muster.

“We what?”

“Come on, pretty boy. Hop on.” Before he can argue, I hook the shoes—that are probably going to do serious damage to my bank account—on the handlebars and stare at him over my shoulder. “I’m driving.” I add a saucy wink that causes his eyes to dilate. He likes it when I take control, and it gives me that jolt of confidence I’d never realized I was missing.