“Ooo!” Clapping came from the other side of the door. “I think I like this lacy bodice thing better. Holy crap, do you think they have a whip that comes with? I could dig that.”
I let out a strangled cough as a salesclerk re-entered the dressing area, stopped, then turned around.
At this rate, they were all going to quit by the end of the day.
“Damn.” Andi let out a whistle. “You should see this.”
I gripped the handle harder. “Can’t. It seems my wife’s locked me out.”
“So pick the lock.”
“You can’t pick a lock that slides, Andi.”
“Hmm, if you were Russian, you could find a way to get in here.”
“Are you serious right now?”
“Russians know all the tricks.”
I pulled against the lock then slammed my hand against the door while Andi continued talking about her mother country. I half expected her to break out in song.
Desperate, I looked up. I could probably climb over the top. What the hell was I thinking?
With a growl, I glanced down at the floor. At least two feet separated the door and the ground.
Crawling.
I was going to crawl.
On my hands and knees.
Wow, if the guys could see me now.
Shaking my head at myself, I got down on my stomach and slid under the dressing room. My eyes were met with combat boots. Slowly, my eyes inched up Andi’s already-dressed form.
“Looking for something?”
“Low…” I shook my head. “…even for you.”
She knelt down and blew me a kiss. “I did you a favor. Now for the rest of the day, you can imagine what I looked like — and how you’ll get to take off the lingerie tonight.”
“I vote now.”
“Hmm… maybe later. You said I could shop.”
“I regret those words. Really. I do.”
She smirked. “I can tell. Now grab the clothes and swipe, swipe, swipe.”
With a groan, I moved to my feet and grabbed the hangers off the hooks. My phone buzzed again in my pocket. With a curse, I put the clothes on one arm and answered. “Kinda busy, Nixon.”
“Shopping, I know.”
I rolled my eyes. “What did you need?”
“The men said the alarm was de-activated.”
“The house alarm?” I blinked. “But that’s impossible. Only a few people know the code — me, Jules, and Andi.” I hadn’t exactly told Andi the alarm code but figured she knew it because she’d watched me plug it in.
“And Jules was one of the guys that was knocked out,” Nixon grumbled. “So how did they get in the house without tripping the alarm?”
I narrowed my eyes at Andi; she was busy petting the clothes on my arm. No way would she do that, and I hated myself that I’d even thought it.
“I’ll figure it out,” I huffed. “That all?”
“Yeah. And Sergio?”
“What?” I barked.
“It’s good to see you showing interest…”
“In Andi?”
“In clothes.”
“Bite me.”
I hung up while he laughed his ass off.
“You weren’t kidding about those mimosas.” Andi yawned behind her hand as we walked through Lincoln Park. I’d originally thought to take her to the zoo since she had that odd fascination with animals, but after seeing how tired she was, I decided to save it for another day.
“Well…” I held in my chuckle. “…when you have five of them…”
“I had three.” She held up four fingers.
“Good to know you’re just fine.” I laughed. “Should I carry you?”
“Probably.” She gave me a dopey grin. “But I think I can at least make it to the car.”
“It’s about a mile away.”
“Oh.” Her face fell.
“How about a piggyback ride?” I offered lamely, hating that a simple walk to the car was making her sad because she was so exhausted.
She stopped walking and crossed her arms. “Riding a cowboy was on the list.”
“I’m not following.”
“Talk to me in a southern accent, and I’ll imagine a cowboy hat on that gorgeous head of hair and boom… I’m riding a cowboy.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Andi, I have so many different scenarios that would fit perfectly with that statement. None of them, however, include me carrying you through the park while singing ‘Achy Breaky Heart.’”
“Oh good. You know it then?”
“I need to learn the art of silence.”
“Probably true.” She nodded.
“And teach it to you,” I added.
“Aw, come on cowboy…”
I rolled my eyes and turned around so she could jump onto my back. “Should I find a park bench, or can you actually jump this high?”
“Never ask a ninja if she can jump — it’s degrading.”
“My mistake. I thought you were a short Russian masquerading as a baker. Go ahead, ninja. Jump.”
She did, probably using the rest of the energy she had left. Her arms wrapped around my neck tightly. “Mush.”
“I thought I was a horse.”
“I changed my mind. Girls can do that on occasion.”
Damn, the girl made me smile. The afternoon sun was starting to set as we walked along the path. Andi was encouraging me to use a southern accent in her most Russian accent.