good to see you again,” the man said.
“Norman,” Eric replied, handing over his keys. “Extra gentle with her, okay?” From the passenger seat, Sofia snorted.
He crossed around the front of the vehicle and opened Sofia’s door. “It won’t be that bad,” he promised, holding out his hand to her. “It might even be fun.”
Because, oddly, he was having fun. Sofia shot him a dirty look, which made him want to laugh. The few times he’d taken a woman shopping, they’d always simpered and smiled and were so effusive with gratitude that it had seemed less…real, somehow.
He didn’t want things to be like that with Sofia. He was aware of her in a fundamental way that didn’t make a lot of sense. He knew what she liked and, more than that, he knew what she needed.
Hell, he knew what he needed—but he was trying to be a better person. In the months since his ex had bailed on their wedding, he’d re-sowed a lot of his wild oats. But he wasn’t a randy kid anymore and meaningless sex was just that—meaningless. He didn’t want to chase a sexual relationship with Sofia if…
Well, if it didn’t mean anything. Because even if this relationship never became sexual, Sofia meant something to him. More than an office manager, anyway. Much more.
Then she put her hand in his and the world stopped spinning. He didn’t hear the noise of the streets or feel the heat of the summer sun on the back of his neck. He didn’t see anything but her as she raised her gaze to his. All he saw was Sofia, her hand warm and light in his. Skin to skin, he swore he felt something pass between them. Something that maybe had tugged at his awareness when he’d touched her back through her jacket during her interview. Something that couldn’t be ignored now.
“Come on,” he said gruffly, pulling her to her feet and tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else.
Sofia stared up at Eric in shock. What was happening? Really? Eric had been avoiding her since she’d scolded him—and she couldn’t blame him. No one wanted to hang out with a harpy. But suddenly he’d appeared in front of her desk and not only asked thoughtful questions about her twins, but seemed genuinely interested in the answers. And then, when she broke her own rule about telling him she wasn’t prepared for her job? He took her shopping.
At best, she might have expected him to send her out to Macy’s with Heather, who no doubt knew exactly what kind of dress an office manager should wear to a cocktail party with the mayor of a midsize Midwestern city.
But that wasn’t what was happening. Eric was going to take her shopping himself. At Barneys, of all places. Even with her newly generous salary, Sofia couldn’t afford to so much as walk through the doors here.
Well. This was a fine mess. She should refuse, absolutely. Except…
Except he really seemed to care about how her babies were doing now that she was back at work full-time. And sometimes, when he looked at her…she swore he was looking at her with new eyes. And she had nothing to wear and didn’t want to show up at a semiformal event representing the company in the wrong kind of dress.
No, that wasn’t the whole truth. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to feel out of place at a fancy party. She didn’t want to feel out of place when Eric looked at her.
She knew she didn’t belong in his world. He was so far above her in terms of looks and money and power… That she was even considering this was a clear indication of how nuts she was. But was it wrong if, at least for a weekend, she wanted to pretend that she fit into his glamorous life? That they were equals?
That she was good enough for him?
It’d been so long since she’d felt attractive. Pregnancy had done a number on her self-esteem and then, after David’s death, she hadn’t exactly kept up her appearance. Who cared about under-eye concealer when she could barely force herself out of bed every morning? It’d only been in the last six months—coincidentally, about the same time the twins started sleeping through the night—that she’d been able to get past the fog and start putting herself on the list of people to take care of.
How was she supposed to do this with Eric? When he looked at her with his intense eyes, it made her want to do stupid, stupid things—like let him lavish her with the finest dresses money could buy. Like hope that he’d remove those fine dresses from her body and pull her into his arms and…
She cleared her throat, trying to get her pulse to stay at a steady rhythm. What was she going to do?
Apparently, she was going to let Eric buy her clothes. It was wildly inappropriate and completely beyond the normal boundaries of common sense. God only knew what the gossip at the office would be tomorrow or—worse—after the St. Louis trip.
But did she have a choice? She didn’t even have a proper suit that fit anymore. She’d been making do with the cutest separates she could find. She’d gotten her first paycheck—with a number that was still stunning to her—but she hadn’t had time to go buy some work clothes. She couldn’t sacrifice any more time away from her babies for something as superficial as trousers.
Except for this damned cocktail party, that was. And heavens help her, she wanted to look good for him.
Her chest began to tighten in panic but she pushed back and made sure to count to four as she breathed in and then out.
“Mr. Jenner,” a polished woman who might have been in her forties or her sixties said, coming forward to meet them. “How lovely to see you back at Barneys again.”
“Clarice,” Eric said, and Sofia heard a particular tone to his voice that he didn’t use with her. Imperious, she might have called it. “This is Ms. Bingham.”
Clarice turned her sharp gaze to Sofia. “Yes,” she said, as if she’d just figured out that Sofia didn’t belong here. “Ms. Bingham, if you’d come this way? I have some options already pulled, but of course I want to take your opinions under consideration.”
“Wait—I thought…” Sofia looked dumbly at Eric. She’d assumed he’d be an active part of this. Was she wrong? She’d been nervous about him offering his opinion on each outfit. So how was the realization that he wouldn’t somehow even worse?
His face softened with a smile and she almost sighed in relief. She didn’t like him all imperious. Then he took her by the arm and led her a little away from Clarice, who immediately made it her business to focus anywhere but on them. “Surprise me,” he said as he slid his hand down and pressed her palm against his. A silky warmth flowed between them.
Her body tightened with want because oh, how she wanted to surprise him. But want had nothing to do with this. It couldn’t. “Eric, we can’t do this,” she murmured—which was true and also did nothing to explain why she couldn’t seem to pull her hand away from his.
“Don’t you dare accuse me of turning into my mother again,” he said as his thumb charted a steady course along the base of hers.
“Your mother would never—” She barely managed to get her mouth shut before something really inappropriate, like “look at me like she wants to undress me,” came tumbling
