that, if he did this for too long, he wouldn’t be able to hide the evidence of his lustful thoughts.
Kruk, this place could be my undoing.
He knew enough about humans to understand that such a display wouldn’t be looked upon kindly.
Lifting one of the garments off the nearby rack, he frowned at the sizing tag. It had taken him long enough to figure out men’s sizes for clothing and shoes; puzzling out the sizes on these items would be like deciphering an alphanumeric code in comparison. And he’d never been good at that sort of thing.
Holding the hanger by the hook, he lowered the garment until it was roughly around the height it’d be if Gabriela were wearing it. She was so tiny—but most humans seemed small to him, and it was hard to tell if the hem of this garment would reach her mid-thigh or down to her knees. His frown deepened as he adjusted the height of it again.
“Can I help you, sir?” asked a female from nearby.
Broxen turned his head to see one of the store’s employees standing nearby, her smile friendly but her brow slightly furrowed.
“I want to buy some of these for my mate,” he replied, turning his attention back to the garment.
“Great. I can totally help you with that.” The female moved closer to him, smile softening. “Do you happen to know her size?”
Flattening a hand, Broxen held it up to the middle of his chest.
“Um…” The female tilted her head.
“She is this tall,” Broxen said.
“Oh!” The employee laughed nervously. “I meant her clothing size and her bra size, but I guess that helps a bit.”
He only realized then that all the clothing Gabriela and Ana had selected when he’d taken them shopping had tags displaying their sizes. He should’ve saved himself the trouble and checked before he left.
What was Gabriela’s bra size?
Returning the garment to the rack, he cupped his hands in front of his chest, imagining the soft flesh of Gabriela’s breasts in his hands. “About this big.”
The female’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “Okay. Well, the good news is that we have a ninety-day return policy if stuff doesn’t fit, so…let’s work with what we have.”
He exited the store sometime later with a large paper bag stuffed nearly full, wondering why the females at the cash register had been giving him such surprised looks. Had he bought more than seemed normal?
Broxen didn’t dwell long on the matter, however, as his gaze fell upon a jewelry store across the way, where the lighting made everything sparkle and glitter. Surprise her this Christmas, said one of the signs on the counter, bearing a picture of a gold necklace with shining diamonds on its pendant.
But his thoughts were not upon that necklace as he approached the jewelry store. No, his mind had turned to something else, to something new—the rings lined up in the display cases.
He knew the human custom, what they called a proposal. He knew, at least in vague terms, the way they went about becoming mates. He’d seen it in their shows and movies, had read it in several books.
And it always started with a ring. Even if he didn’t understand why the gifting of a ring was important to human mating, it was important.
I could claim her in my way, and in the way of her kind…
But would she be ready for that? Would she be prepared for that sort of commitment? He knew he was moving fast, that he was being too bold, but he also knew what he wanted.
Gabriela.
He released a harsh breath through his nostrils, turned, and walked away from the jewelry store. Making his full claim on Gabriela—and her accepting it with equal fullness—was inevitable. It would happen. He didn’t need to rush anything, and yet…
Broxen glanced over his shoulder, glimpsing the jewelry store’s bright lights and gleaming displays from the corner of his eye. His lips fell into a frown. He’d have to revisit this matter after giving it some thought—and he doubted that he would be able to do that while he was here.
Forcing his face forward, he continued onward.
His frustration and annoyance flared often as he worked his way around the mall, navigating between clusters of shoppers and vendors offering him free samples of who knew what. There was a word that seemed to fit the people here, one that had stuck with him for some reason ever since he’d first seen it in a book—masochist. He’d known a few people on Turata