AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Done. Now on to ten more of this.
It’s one of my favorite mindless tasks at work. It’s not as rewarding as the pottery itself, but it’s fun and doesn’t require much from me.
Besides, I don’t have a lot of employees. I only have two—one to help me respond to customer queries and the other to double-check the order list and make sure we don’t ship out broken or chipped items.
The bell chimes, and I turn to look at who just came inside.
Tristan.
My heart does a little leap at seeing him. His shift must have just ended because his hair is still damp from the shower. He scans the space and, when he sees me, strolls toward me with a grin.
He has a bouquet in one hand and a box from my favorite bakery in the other.
I wipe my hands on my apron and raise a brow. “You’re starting to spoil me, so don’t ever complain if I become a spoiled monster in the future.”
He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “Never. Do you still have lots of things to do?”
I press the pink and white roses to my nose and inhale the scent. It smells a lot like love. Does that sound cheesy? Yes. Do I give a damn? Hell nah. “No. Why?”
“I’m taking you jewelry shopping.”
“Flowers, an ice cream cake, and jewelry. I must have done a really nice job fucking you last night.”
Tristan’s nostrils flare, and he looks around in a panic.
“Relax, Tris. I’m the only one left.”
He blows out a breath, pinches the bridge of his nose, and pushes his glasses up. “Jesus Christ, Bun. Can you not say things like that when we’re outside the bedroom?”
“Why not? This is a free country, and I’m a woman allowed to speak her mind.” Tristan groans, and I decide to put him out of his misery. “Fine, Tris. Where is this jewelry store?”
He takes out his phone from his pocket and says, “A senior surgeon told me he bought his wife different pieces from a jeweler on the outskirts of town. I saw the photos, and they looked like the ones you like to wear. You know, silver with stones and stuff.”
Snorting, I prop a hand on my hip. “I will not be a kept woman. I am independent, capable, and financially stable”—he shows me the photo on his phone— “but I’m also allowed to change my mind. You know what, I take all of that back. Let’s go. I’m giving you permission to spoil me rotten.”
Two hours and three rings, one choker, a bracelet, and a pair of earrings later, I walk hand in hand with him. I sneak a glance at him, and God, he cuts such a sharp profile. The jaw so sharp it can cut me, lips I can never get enough of, high cheekbones, and lashes I’ll kill for.
And he’s mine.
The thought alone makes me giddy, and I have to stop myself from giggling and looking like a lunatic. That’s how happy I feel. Then again, I’ve totally forgotten how attuned Tristan is to my moods. He’ll pick up on it faster than I can blink.
“What is it?” he asks, squeezing my hand.
Smiling, I stand on my toes and kiss his cheek, now with a five o’clock shadow. “I can get used to this, you know.”
“Where did that whole speech about being independent go?”
I tug his hand so he’ll stop and jab a finger at him. “Never ever use my words against me. Also, it’s nice to feel like a princess once in a while.”
“You’re no princess.”
“You did not?—”
“You’re my queen.”
I smack his chest lightly even though butterflies flutter in my belly. God, Tristan may joke but never when it comes to his feelings.
He lifts my hand and brushes his lips along my knuckle, never taking his eyes off me. “You should get used to this. Where else would I spend my money?”
