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He takes my chin in his hands, making me look into the bottomless pit of his eyes. “Iam buying you what you need. I will buy you the whole damn store if you want. Do you hear me?” He steps closer, making my neck arch back. “Anything. Everything.”
My breath gets lost somewhere between my mouth and my lungs. It just disappears into a void until he steps back, then I gulp in air easily. The way he controls my body is disconcerting, and it makes me salty. “I don’t need you to do that.”
“Dakota Wilder.” The look he gives me slices me to my core. It feels like he wants to say so much, but instead, he drops his stare to my shoes. “You want to walk up into the mountain with those? You want to follow the trails with the clothes you’re wearing? Put aside the stupid pride bullshit for one second. You know you need those things. Get out of your damn head and let me do it for you.”
Everything in me is telling me not to give in to him, but I really don’t have a choice. I don’t have the money. I probably never will have the money. What’s most important now is that we find my father and the treasure. “Fine,” I seethe.
“Follow me,” he demands. We all do as he says because, well, he’s Stone Jacobs. He stops in front of a bunch of shoe boxes that all look the same. “This is a good brand. Find the style and the fit you like, and we’ll get those. And actually, get a couple of pairs. Lucas, come with me. We’re looking at tents.”
Lucas’s hand tightens around mine as he gives Stone a perplexed look. “I thought you said—”
“Just fucking come with me,” he growls out.
A woman who walks past us at that exact time places her hands over her son’s ears, as the son gazes up at Stone wide-eyed. Stone has the decency to apologize in his most well-mannered good boy voice, and the woman smiles back. Stone just has that kind of look when he wants to. He can turn on the charm in an instant which makes him almost like a snake in the grass. Just biding his time.
I shake my head as I watch Stone and Lucas walk away in the opposite direction of the mother and son. Their heads are together as they walk through the store like they own the place.
Wyatt gazes at my feet in my ratty pair of sneakers I’ve had for at least five years. I’m good to my things. I wash them when I get them dirty, but it’s obvious they’re old as shit. They’re just clean, old as shit shoes that are out of style and fraying along the edges. “Do you know what size those are?”
I sit on a nearby bench and take them off, feeling the loss of Lucas next to me. I peel the tongue back and look but the label is faded. “Nope,” I say. “And in any case, these have always been a bit too tight.”
Wyatt’s jaw ticks. He points at an employee and crooks his finger at him, beckoning him toward us. The guy comes right over, and Wyatt says, “We need her sized. Also, I need a cart.”
“Excellent,” the guy says. He’s all smiles. “I can size her, and the carts are at the front of the store.”
“I said I need a cart,” Wyatt snaps.
The guy, who already dropped to his knees, preparing to put a metal contraption on my feet, glowers. “Of course,” he says through clenched teeth. “I’ll get you a cart when I’m through.” He slides my foot on to the metal then makes me stand. “Looks like you’re about a seven and a half. Depending on what you’re getting, the sizes could run up or down, so just make sure to try everything on. After I’m done getting your cart,” he says flatly. “I can get any size in the back that you need.”
Wyatt nods at him, and when he walks away, he gleams at his back. I switch my gaze between the two. “You’re such a jerk.” My first experience in a store like this and it isn’t going all that well.
Wyatt shrugs. “With the amount of money we’re going to drop today, they should be handing us a fucking gold cart, Tits.”
I shake my head and scour the line of hiking boots at the top of the brand Stone picked out. I pick out a pair I like and try on the seven and a half. I take them back to the seat with me and slip them on. I almost cream my underwear when my feet slide inside. They fit like a glove. And the cushion? It’s like I’m walking on a cloud.
Wyatt chuckles. “If you like them, wait until you try on sneakers.” I take the boot off to throw it back in the box, but Wyatt stops me. “Whoa, whoa. You’re missing the most important part of trying on shoes.”
“I’m not buying sneakers, too,” I snap.
He narrows his gaze at me. “No partner of mine is walking around in frayed shoes that are too fucking tight for her, so yes, Tits, you’re going to suck up your pride and accept the fact that you’re getting new shoes.”
“Stone—”
“I don’t give a fuck about Stone. I’m buying you the shoes, okay? Me.”
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.