Page 31 of The Flame Game

“Bulletproof,” he replied.

I frowned, wiggled out of his hold, and checked his coat, which was made by the same designer. Like mine, it was heavier than I expected. “Does this one have Kevlar, too?”

“It does,” the clerk replied. “That’s one of our other models but in the same general line. They’re new this year. Both also have a layer of RFID-blocking material built into the liner.”

“Do you have them in this size?”

“Of course.”

“If you’re buying me more than one jacket, you are matching me jacket for jacket,” I informed him. As I could see them being highly useful for our line of work, I’d do my best to ignore the huge hit to our bank account buying them.

I couldn’t put a price on Quinn’s safety, and I had no reason to believe he didn’t feel the same way.

“Done.” My husband shucked off his jacket and showed the tag to the woman, who nodded and went off to fetch our new apparel. “I had no idea it was bulletproof when I was looking it over. I noticed it was stiffer than I expected, but the cut works well with it.”

Yes, it worked very well on my husband. “Isn’t it illegal to wear body armor when committing a crime?”

He laughed. “In many states, yes. It is. Let’s look for ass kicker boots for you while we’re here. Looks like we’ve been sent to a place with a focus on leather.” With a sly smile, he pointed across the store, where a selection of boots designed to come up to right below the knee waited for me to admire.

Some had heels, some didn’t, some had belts and buckles, but my new favorite pair had buttons up the side, which cleverly disguised a zipper for easy wearing. I hurried over, grabbed them, and checked their size, pouting when they were too small for me.

The clerk returned with the coats, which she carried to the counter, and when she spotted me staring at the boots, she walked over. “What size do you wear?”

I told her, and she shook her head. “I don’t have those in that size, but I have something similar in the back that might work. We haven’t shifted the product lines, but since we’re doing it tomorrow, I bet my boss won’t mind selling a pair a little ahead, but I’ll have to ask her. Give me a moment.”

I put the boots back and examined the rest of the store’s offerings while my husband amused himself at the counter with our coats, reading over the labels. A purse with a stylized unicorn stamped into the leather caught my eye, and it bore a striking resemblance to a cindercorn, especially in the presence of claws on the hooves and the thick, fluffy coat.

It was red, and the unicorn was black, and I carried it over to my husband. Reminding myself I could afford the purse, I set it on top of the pile.

Quinn blinked at it, and then he blinked at me before staring at the purse.

“Mine?”

“Why is that a question?” my husband asked with laughter in his voice. “I was just surprised you actually got something for yourself without me having to coax you into it.” He picked up my treasure and looked it over, his laughter growing when he spotted the cindercorn on it. “This was obviously made for you.”

The woman came back with a pair of boots, and she grinned when she spotted the purse I’d picked. “Oh! That one is one of my favorites. The boots I pulled out of the back have the matching buttons. We have a product line with the two main species of unicorns. There is a pair of gray winter boots with white unicorns on them, a pair of red winter boots with the dark unicorns on them, there’s a winter parka with a white unicorn on the front and the black and red ones on the back, and some other accessories.”

“Cindercorns,” my husband prompted. “What else do you have?”

“We have some polo shirts, riding breeches, a pair of riding boots, and gloves. All of those have it in both styles.”

“Men and women’s styles?”

“Yes, we have both. Those are custom made, so you have to be fitted for everything, but we can do the fittings here and ship, or you can pick them up.”

“Your uncle can pick them up for us when they’re ready,” I announced.

“You like bossing him around, don’t you?”

“No. I love it.”

Quinn laughed. “All right. We’ll need to be fitted. If you like those boots and they fit, get them, Bailey. It’s not too expensive.”

“Then let’s try the boots on, shall we?”

“Most expensive gift card ever,” I muttered, following the woman to see if the new boots fit. Like the pair I liked, they had buttons, and true to her claim, they were decorated with tiny cindercorns. The cindercorns were also stamped onto the top of each boot. “Quinn, Quinn, look at these!”

“Ah. Those must be one of the sets of riding boots. You better get three pairs, and we’ll use one for your horseback riding lessons, leave one at work, and the third pair can be for at home. And we’ll get you a pair of the standard unicorn boots, too. Actually, two pairs, that way one can stay at work.”