Page 19 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
“It gets cold.”
“I lived in Florida, remember?”
His eyes flick toward the suitcase again. “We’re going shopping.”
I laugh. “You? Shopping?”
He gives me a flat look. “Yes. Why?”
“Have you ever gone shopping with a woman before?”
“No.”
“Oh, this is going to be fun.”
His eyes narrow suspiciously.
He looks back at my belongings. “You only own one hoodie?”
“The others were ruined in the hurricane.”
“That’s a problem.”
“I survived somehow.”
“You won’t survive the Vermont winter.”
My stomach does a weird little flip at how serious he sounds about that.
Winter? I won’t be here that long.
“I’ll give you one of mine,” he mutters.
Then he grabs two pajama sets and turns toward me. “Which one?”
I point toward the navy set. “Those.”
He puts the others away before freezing again.
I glance over and nearly choke trying not to laugh.
He’s staring directly at my bras and panties like they personally offend him.
“Top drawer,” I say sweetly. “Bras on the left. Panties on the right.”
His cheeks turn faintly red as he obeys.
This is fun.
“Oh, wait,” I say suddenly. “Can I see the black ones?”
Daltyn investigates the drawer cautiously. “The... lacy ones?”
“Yup.”
He scoops up the entire pile before I stop him.
“Just the black pair.”
