15

It’s been a long time since I’ve gone shopping for clothes, and as I stand perusing the racks I remember that the last time was three years ago when I had to shop for a black dress for my parents’ funerals.

I pause and stare into the distance, my fingers still on the rack. That was a time I don’t want to remember, or the years that followed.

“What is it?” Chris asks from behind, startling me.

“Ah, nothing,” I turn and flick him a quick half-smile. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve shopped for pleasure, rather than necessity. “I always seem to have a reason to head into town. You know, hardware, groceries, presents for the kids, or something…”

“It’s for pleasure now,” he murmurs, tucking one of my stray curls behind my ear.

I nod.

“Yes. We can hire the skis and ski suits when we get there, but you’ll definitely need a warmer coat and some going-out clothes. All I’ve bought you since you arrived were thrift store work clothes. It’s time you had some decent gear.”

“I need help,” he grimaces.

I nod and point to the menswear sign. We only have one big department store in our town, well, biggish , and a half dozen small boutiques — none of which, given their snooty owners, I’d willingly set foot in for love nor money. So our choices right now are a little limited.

As we head down the ladies’ isles towards the menswear department I pick up a pair of fleecy Christmas pyjamas and remind myself to come back and have a look at the underwear. Right now, I need to dress an angel who’s used to flying around naked in his world.

“How about these?” Chris asks, pointing to a pair of blue jeans.

“Yes,” I nod, “jeans are a good start. You’ll need to try them on.”

He moves to pull down his sweats and I reach out to quickly still his hand, my own accidentally touching his crotch.

“Here?” He grins. “You are a naughty little ceramic artist.”

I blush and step back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Hey, I’ll take what I can get,” he grins. “Don’t apologise.”

“Chris. I just meant to stop you from pulling down your pants. There are change rooms over there,” I gesture, still red-faced, “and that’s where you try clothes on.”

“Those little cubicles?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, they have mirrors in them.”

“Will you come too?”

“No,” I laugh, “you’ll barely fit in as it is.”

He lowers his voice to a sexy growl.

“I’m sure we could manage.”

A little shiver runs down my spine, and I try to act my age and not show him how that voice affects me. He’s only done it a few times in the past few weeks, but holy, moly…

“Stop it,” I whisper. Turning from him to head back to the ladies' section. “Try them on, and if you like how they look, we’ll get them. Then try on some shirts,” I add over my shoulder. “Come find me when you’ve finished. Or, actually no. Here.”

I hand over my credit card.

“Just give this to the girl at the counter when you’re finished and wait for me in the car. I shouldn’t be too long. I might even be there by the time you come out.”

“But I’m not sure what to buy,” he says loudly.

I shake my head.

“Pants, shoes, socks, underwear, shirts.”

“How will I know if they look any good?” He shouts as I head further away.

I don’t bother answering. That man could wear a garbage bag and still look like a god.