Page 36 of The Toy Maker (The Pink Cherrie #1)

THIRTY-ONE

After cleaning myself up and changing back into my boring clothes, I eagerly stepped out of the dressing room, scanning the store for Jason. He was waiting just outside, leaning against a display case, his arms crossed lazily over his chest.

The moment his eyes landed on me, the corner of his mouth twitched, like he was fighting a smirk. My stomach flipped.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets, then immediately pulled them out. I must have struck a thousand poses in a pathetic attempt to look casual, but deep down, my heart was fluttering like an idiot.

Jason made me nervous.

He was too handsome for his own good, for my own good.

And worse, I had formed an attachment I wasn’t sure he returned.

Before I could spiral any further, Jason reached out, lifting his thumb to my mouth. “You have a little cu?—”

“Thank you,” I cut him off before he could finish and tried to hide so he couldn’t see me turning red. His gaze lingered, burning into me, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, I wondered if he could hear how fast my heart was beating.

Then a loud, obnoxious cough shattered the moment.

“Will you be paying with cash or credit?” I turned to see the cashier blatantly ignoring my existence, her wide, eager eyes locked on Jason.

I fought the urge to roll mine.

Jason, completely unfazed, pulled out his wallet. “Cash.”

The girl beamed, launching into a speech about some exclusive store card while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

I tapped my nails against the counter, glaring at her with thinly veiled irritation.

Jason barely seemed to be listening. He nodded along until she finally ran out of words and handed him the receipt.

He took it without a second glance, then turned to me. “Let’s go.”

The relief I felt was ridiculous.

We weaved through the crowded mall, dodging couples, window shoppers, and groups of teenagers taking up way too much space.

“Where to now?” I asked, glancing up at him.

Jason smirked. “I was thinking food.” He slid his hands into his pockets, eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m pretty sure I owe you breakfast. Pizza?” he asked.

“For breakfast?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

I laughed. “Yeah, that sounds good.” Kitty would flip out of she knew I was eating hot, greasy carbs, but there were plenty of things she didn’t need to know these days.

We stopped at the pizza vendor, and Jason glanced over the menu.

“Pepperoni?” I suggested, already imagining the perfect, greasy slice.

“Hawaiian.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

Jason looked at me like I was the weird one. “Pineapple. Ham. The superior combination.”

I took a step back, placing a hand over my heart. “I knew there was something off about you.”

He smirked. “You’re just uncultured.”

“I respect pizza, thank you very much.” I scrunched my nose. “Fruit does not belong on it.”

Jason shrugged like my opinion was meaningless. “What do you think tomatoes are?”

I watched in mild horror as he ordered, completely unbothered by his terrible life choices.

When it was my turn, I made sure to clearly enunciate the word pepperoni, just in case the pizza gods were watching.

We grabbed our trays and found an empty table near the corner of the food court. I plopped into my seat, staring at his slice like it personally offended me.

Jason took a slow, deliberate bite, locking eyes with me as if daring me to say something.

I crossed my arms. “You’re a monster.”

He chewed thoughtfully. “And yet, you’re still sitting with me.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I haven’t ruled out the possibility of finding a better table.”

Jason smirked, waving the pizza slice at me. “You won’t.”

He took another bite while I pretended not to stare at his lips. Because that was my real problem, not the pizza, not the mall, but the fact that I was sitting across from him, feeling way too much.

And I had no idea if he felt anything at all.

“Do you think we’ll be back before one?”

The light from the food court skylights hit Jason’s face just right, casting sharp angles along his jawline and making the gold in his eyes more pronounced. It was distracting .

“What, you haven’t enjoyed our adventure?” he asked, barely glancing up from his food.

I took a bite of my pizza and shrugged. “Unfortunately, this the highlight of my week.”

Which wasn’t a lie.

What was a lie was pretending that sitting across from him didn’t make my palms sweat.

Jason furrowed his eyebrows. “Why’s that?” he asked.

“My mom’s in town,” I groaned, already exhausted just thinking about it. “And I’m never going to hear the end of my hideous apartment or my secretive job.”

“Why would you keep your job a secret?”

I stared at him. “Are you kidding? She’d have a stroke.”

Jason chuckled, completely unbothered by my impending doom. “If you don’t terrify people a bit, then what’s the point?”

“You don’t know my mom,” I scoffed, staring down at my pepperoni.

“No, but I know mine,” he retorted. “I thought she was going to pull the shotgun off the wall and tear me a new asshole when I told her my plan to open my business.” That was a vivid image.

“Oh, you mean the completely respectable sex-toy shop?” I couldn’t help the sarcasm that trailed off my lips. It was a chronic condition.

Jason smirked. “I suppose it was kind of hard for her to face the pastor on Sunday mornings after word got out.”

“So, you’re religious then?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his soda. “My family is.”

My eyes widened, but I tried to hide my surprise. I hadn’t put much thought into the origins that would create someone like Jason, but church wouldn’t have been my first guess. “What about you?”

He sighed, before deflecting, “I think that you believe in God.”

“Why do you think?—”

“If you don’t,” he interrupted, a slow smirk tugging at his lips, “then who are you calling out to when I fuck you?”

The worst part about dealing with an arrogant son of a bitch? Knowing he’s right.

Instead, I muttered under my breath as I ate my leftover crust, acting like I wasn’t picturing all the times he’d made me scream his name—among other things.

After our little chat over lunch, I made it my personal mission not to stare at him like a smitten schoolgirl for the rest of our shopping spree.

Easier said than done.

Jason was good-looking, sure, but apparently he was funny and pleasant even outside of the dungeon.

By the time we were finally done, we made the short ride back to Pink Cherrie, where Jason led me in through the back entrance.

As soon as we stepped inside, I glanced around, my eyes scanning for any trace of her.

His room was empty.

I tried not to let the relief show on my face, but deep down, I knew there were only three possible explanations:

Either it really was his sister who left while Jason distracted me, he was a liar, or I was a paranoid bitch.

I wasn’t a fan of the latter.

“Looking for something?” Jason must have noticed my puzzled expression.

I shook my head. “I should probably get out there.” The girls would be wondering where I disappeared to, and there was only so much lying a girl could do in one day.

He didn’t stop me as I walked out the door and back into the world of glitz, girls, and rehearsed smiles.

Everyone knows that fucking the boss is a bad idea, but falling for him?

Now that’s just plain suicide.