and try on several wigs in various styles, but I am not happy with any of them. Of course, Julian tells me I look beautiful in each one and I tell him he's no help. He agrees and kisses my cheek. The sales woman brings in a few more styles for me to try. One of the wigs is very similar to my natural hair style . The silky black ringlets fall just past my shoulders and feels soft and luxurious. Julian whistles and my decision is made. I buy three of the style–two black and one auburn . And as we leave the shop, I feel more beautiful than I have in a long time.
Julian decides to take me shopping so we head to the mall. Opening my car door, he takes my hand as I get out, keeping it in his as we move from store to store. We pick out a wedding gift for Dad and Cassie. Then I peruse the lingerie section in a department store and pick out Cassie's shower gift.
“I cannae wait ta see ye in tha ',” Julian says, growling in my ear.
“Oh, I'll bet, but it’s not for me,” I say, blushing. “It’s for Cassie.”
He heaves a disappointed sigh. “If ye wan', I can hold yer place in line while ye go an' get another one for yersel '.” He flashes a sexy mischievous grin.
“You mean for you ,” I tease and he nods.
“Oh, aye.” He marches over and picks out one for me, placing it on the counter with the other. I just shake my head and smile. The cashier smiles as well and rings up our purchases. It isn't hard to guess what she's thinking.
“I need to stop in one more place,” I say as we exit the store.
“Now, let me guess where yer goin ' next.” Julian rubs his chin like he is deep in thought. “Ah! The bookstore.”
“How did you know?” I tease.
“Just luck.”
“Makes me wonder if you have that leprechaun stowed away somewhere.”
“ Och , he's long gon ' now. I gav ' him a couple o bottles of whiskey from the pub an' I havnae seen him since.”
Tsk, tsk, tsk. Nothing worse than a drunken leprechaun.”
He grins. “Tell me aboot it.”
Our bookstore is at the opposite end of the mall. The outside entrance is convenient, especially for parents bringing their children in for story time.
“ Weel , why don' ye let me take the bags oot ta the car, an' while yer browsin ' the books, I'll check oot another store for a bit.”
“Sounds good. Give me about half an hour?”
“Sure. I'll plant masel ' on the bench oot here by the kiosk.” He kisses me and we hurry our separate ways.
“Good to see you, Giselle,” Shawn, our young employee says as he finishes ringing up my books and puts them in a bag.
“It's good to see you, too. And thanks.”
“You're welcome. And t ell Julian to be prepared for the rush of mothers coming in tomorrow for his repeat performance at story time. They've all been going on about the gorgeous kilt-wearing Scotsman.”
I laugh. “I'll be sure to tell him.”
When I finally exit the store and meet Julian, I gasp, covering my mouth.
“Julian! What did you do?”
“Do ye like ma haircut, darlin '?” He stands and runs his fingers through the short tousled waves.
“I can't believe . . . but why?”
He smiles and places the tied ponytail in my hand. My bag slips from my fingers unheeded, and tears quickly blur my vision as he takes me in his arms.
“I didnae mean ta make ye cry, mon nighean donn .”
I say nothing, just simply bury my face in his chest. I know why he did it, and the gesture touches me more than anything he has ever done. How I love this man! And how blessed I am that he loves me so much!
“Thank you,” I finally whisper.
Drawing back a little, he takes my face in his hands, whispering against my lips, “I love ye more than anythin ', ma bonnie, bonnie lassie,” before covering my mouth and drinking deeply. Clinging to one another, we are completely in a world of our own. A world where love, passion and complete adoration consumes our hearts and our souls. A world nothing can penetrate, and our devotion to one another is all that
Julian decides to take me shopping so we head to the mall. Opening my car door, he takes my hand as I get out, keeping it in his as we move from store to store. We pick out a wedding gift for Dad and Cassie. Then I peruse the lingerie section in a department store and pick out Cassie's shower gift.
“I cannae wait ta see ye in tha ',” Julian says, growling in my ear.
“Oh, I'll bet, but it’s not for me,” I say, blushing. “It’s for Cassie.”
He heaves a disappointed sigh. “If ye wan', I can hold yer place in line while ye go an' get another one for yersel '.” He flashes a sexy mischievous grin.
“You mean for you ,” I tease and he nods.
“Oh, aye.” He marches over and picks out one for me, placing it on the counter with the other. I just shake my head and smile. The cashier smiles as well and rings up our purchases. It isn't hard to guess what she's thinking.
“I need to stop in one more place,” I say as we exit the store.
“Now, let me guess where yer goin ' next.” Julian rubs his chin like he is deep in thought. “Ah! The bookstore.”
“How did you know?” I tease.
“Just luck.”
“Makes me wonder if you have that leprechaun stowed away somewhere.”
“ Och , he's long gon ' now. I gav ' him a couple o bottles of whiskey from the pub an' I havnae seen him since.”
Tsk, tsk, tsk. Nothing worse than a drunken leprechaun.”
He grins. “Tell me aboot it.”
Our bookstore is at the opposite end of the mall. The outside entrance is convenient, especially for parents bringing their children in for story time.
“ Weel , why don' ye let me take the bags oot ta the car, an' while yer browsin ' the books, I'll check oot another store for a bit.”
“Sounds good. Give me about half an hour?”
“Sure. I'll plant masel ' on the bench oot here by the kiosk.” He kisses me and we hurry our separate ways.
“Good to see you, Giselle,” Shawn, our young employee says as he finishes ringing up my books and puts them in a bag.
“It's good to see you, too. And thanks.”
“You're welcome. And t ell Julian to be prepared for the rush of mothers coming in tomorrow for his repeat performance at story time. They've all been going on about the gorgeous kilt-wearing Scotsman.”
I laugh. “I'll be sure to tell him.”
When I finally exit the store and meet Julian, I gasp, covering my mouth.
“Julian! What did you do?”
“Do ye like ma haircut, darlin '?” He stands and runs his fingers through the short tousled waves.
“I can't believe . . . but why?”
He smiles and places the tied ponytail in my hand. My bag slips from my fingers unheeded, and tears quickly blur my vision as he takes me in his arms.
“I didnae mean ta make ye cry, mon nighean donn .”
I say nothing, just simply bury my face in his chest. I know why he did it, and the gesture touches me more than anything he has ever done. How I love this man! And how blessed I am that he loves me so much!
“Thank you,” I finally whisper.
Drawing back a little, he takes my face in his hands, whispering against my lips, “I love ye more than anythin ', ma bonnie, bonnie lassie,” before covering my mouth and drinking deeply. Clinging to one another, we are completely in a world of our own. A world where love, passion and complete adoration consumes our hearts and our souls. A world nothing can penetrate, and our devotion to one another is all that
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