I gaze over at Wyatt, who dropped to his knees like the store clerk did and is now forcing my foot back into the boot. “You don’t—”
“I know I don’t have to,” he says, sliding my heel into the boot and then moving his hand up my calf to set my foot back down on the ground. He stares up at me. “I want to.”
We lock gazes. He and his sparkling blues that catch just under the brim of his hat. The way he’s looking at me makes goosebumps dance over my skin. He blinks, almost like he’s ensnared in my trap as much as I’m ensnared in his. His hand moves up over my knee and onto my thigh. He squeezes, and heat floods my core. Goddamn there’s just something about Wyatt Longhorn on his knees in front of me with that cowboy hat on. I’m damn sure I’ve had a fantasy like this before.
“You need to realize something, Dakota,” Wyatt says. “Everyone deserves nice things, but people like you deserve them most of all.” He moves his palm up, his hands coarse against my skin. “So, if I want to buy you something, I will. You didn’t see the look on your face when you tried these new boots on, but I did. And that’s a moment worth having again and again.”
My breath hitches as we stay entranced by one another’s gazes. It isn’t until the rickety sound of wheels hits us that Wyatt stands, his face morphing back to hard lines with the brim of his hat acting like a privacy fence. “Here’s your cart,” the employee says.
“Much obliged,” Wyatt says, dipping his hat at him, and the worker seems a little taken aback. I am too, actually. He turns back to me. “Now, Tits,” he says with a wink. “Put the other boot on and take a walk up and down here. You need to see how they feel when you’re walking, not just sitting. You know how much walking we’re going to be doing up there, and we need to protect those precious feet of yours.”
I do as he says, slipping the other boot on and lacing them up before walking around. Unfortunately, Wyatt’s right. They pinch my feet a little when I walk. “I need a bigger size,” I grumble as I sit back down on the bench, bending over to untie the boots.
Wyatt looks up. He opens his mouth to tell the worker to get me the next size, but instead, he’s on him in a flash. He pushes him against the rack of shoes and gets in his face. The display shakes, and some of the shoes tumble over. Once again, his hat is hiding most of his features from me, but the hard line of his jaw is unmistakable. “You looking at her rack?”
“N-no,” the guy squeaks out, clearly scared out of his mind.
My stomach drops. “Wyatt,” I whisper-yell as people pass by. They hurry down the aisle, but Wyatt doesn’t give a fuck. He’s not going to apologize like Stone did.
The brim of Wyatt’s hat hits the guy in the forehead. “Just because I call her Tits doesn’t mean you get free looks, you understand me.”
The guy swallows. “Yes, of course.”
Wyatt steps back and shoves him toward a door that leads to the back. “Now get her a size eight in those shoes.”
The guy hurries away, and I glare at Wyatt. “What was that about?” Embarrassment creeps up my cheeks. “You can’t just treat people that way.”
“I can and I will,” Wyatt says, stepping up to me. “Those tits are off limits to others, and the way he was salivating over them...” A disgusted tremor rolls through him. He balls his fists at his sides and moves closer. He bends over, whispering right into my ear, making shivers run down my arms. He hovers there, and I close my eyes because I’m sure he notices the effect he has on me. “Just FYI, you can tell by the way he didn’t fight back that he’d be a terrible lay. Remember that. Boys with bite will give you everything you need and everything you think you didn’t but do. I’m sure Lucas is close to showing you, and he’s a sleeper. Trust me.”
By the time he steps away, my knees are shaking. I already know Lucas is a sleeper. That he’s exactly what I want. I haven’t been able to forget what happened in class even though there are more pressing concerns happening around me. However, my blood boils when Wyatt is near too. He acts like an ass and then licks my wounds afterward until I just want to spread my legs to see what he can do down there when he’s like this everywhere else. I don’t doubt he’s everything and more in the bedroom.
I’ve read about guys like him. I just thought they were all fictional.
I go to stand, but he bites down on my earlobe. A spark of momentary pain hits. He sucks it away until I have to sit down again, my knees too weak to hold me upright. I nearly miss the bench, and Wyatt chuckles as he makes sure I land on the solid steel.
Thankfully, a new worker comes out of the back with my size eights. Wyatt smirks as he takes the box from him and helps me slip them on. These are much better. I end up grabbing that pair and another of a different kind while Wyatt throws two bags of hiking socks in the cart along with some athletic socks. We stop at the sneakers next, and I bite my lip over all the different colors and styles. I always just wore what my father brought me home from the second-hand store. I never got to pick out anything myself, so standing here is like being a kid in a candy store. Speaking of, I’ve never been the
