Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
“Fine.” I heave the word out on a sigh. His answering smile is one of pure victory. “But my agreeance comes with terms.”
“Name ‘em.”
“Okay, well, it’s actually only one term.” I can feel my cheeks heating under his scrutiny, but I press on because this is important to me. “You can’t spend more than a hundred bucks on me.”
“Pip,” he pleads, but I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head. His eyes momentarily dip to my breasts, but I don’t mention it.
We sit, locked in our stare down, until finally he relents. “Fine, but that one hundred doesn’t include food or anything for the jellybean, because if you think I’m not spoiling the shit out of our baby, you’re damn wrong.”
My brain trips over his use of the words our baby. How is it possible for him to be so all in with someone like me? Still, I find myself nodding as I unbuckle my seat belt.
Pick your battles, I suppose.
Before I can even blink, Atlas is out of the truck and opening my door. “C’mon, pretty girl. It’s time to shop.”
He slips his hand into mine as we cut across the parking lot, and even though we’ve held hands more times than I count now, it still feels like electricity skittering over me every time.
“Where to first?” He grabs a buggy and quirks a brow my way.
“Um…” I look around the brightly lit store, unsure of where to go.
“You sort of look like a deer in the headlights, Pip. How about I take the lead until you feel comfortable?”
I nod as a relieved sigh rushes out of me.
He steers us toward the women’s section and tells me to go crazy, and I try to, really I do…
But I can’t. It’s been so long since I’ve picked out clothes for myself, I don’t even know what I like anymore, much less what looks good on me.
My shoulders slump in defeat, the brightly colored clothes mocking me from the racks. Everything either looks small and tight or boxy and bland. Isn’t there an in-between section?
Noticing my rising panic, Atlas abandons the cart and tugs me into his chest. “Hey, take a breath, you’ve got this.”
“Do I?” I look up at him with watery eyes. “There are so many choices and nothing over here seems quite right and—”
He leans down and presses his lips to mine, silencing my ramblings with the softest, sweetest kiss ever. The fact that we’re in public isn’t lost on me either.
“Let’s start with the basics. I know Scarlet likes…” He trails off and scratches his chin. “Yoga pants? Leggings? I don’t know. I think they’re back this way. They’re stretchy and should be comfy over your belly. Then we can grab some shirts to go with them, okay?”
I suck in a deep, calming breath. “Okay.”
Atlas guides me back toward the activewear section. It’s much smaller than the women’s section, and I instantly feel more at ease.
“Do you want black ones or color?” he asks, pointing toward a display of neatly folded pants.
“Um.” I know it’s not a quiz, but I still feel like my answer will decide if I pass or fail. “Maybe both. A black pair and a green pair?”
He nods encouragingly. “That’s a good start.”
I grab a pair of each color in what I think is my size and toss them into the buggy. “What now?”
“It’s like pulling teeth with you, huh?” he asks, but the smile on his face tells me he’s only joking.
Smiling, I shrug and make my way over to a pile of folded sweatshirts, grabbing two to coordinate with my bottoms.
“Probably should grab a jacket, too,” he murmurs, tipping his head toward the other side of the aisle where there is an entire wall of outerwear. “Go pick one you like, I’ll wait here.”
I cut my eyes his way, but he’s the picture of innocence, resting his forearms on the handle of the cart while scrolling on his phone.
The sheer amount of jacket options is wild to me, and I know I should probably pick something basic, but my gaze keeps sliding back to a hot pink puffer with a fur-lined hood.
It’s gaudy and bright, and for some reason, I love it.
I grab it one size too big so that it will fit over my belly before heading back to Atlas.
He intercepts me in the aisle. “Why don’t you head over to the intimate apparel section next and get some underwear, bras, and socks?”
My cheeks burn so hotly, they must be redder than the store’s trademark bullseye, but still, I do as he says and head over to pick out some new undies.
I grab ten pairs of boyshort-cut panties, two bras, and a pack of socks before making my way back to Atlas, who shockingly is right where I left him.