Back in the Saddle (Jessica Brodie Diaries #1)(12)

I couldn't stop myself from stealing a secret glance as I rounded an aisle, just for one more glimpse. Big mistake.

I was stupidly hoping he was looking at Ronnie and the woman, but he wasn’t. Of course. His eyes were sparkling with bemusement as he watched me trying to get away. His mouth went from slightly quirked to a full gleaming spectacle as he caught his eye, red faced and all.

I half fell into the aisle, juggled a bag of rice, stuffed it back on the shelf and basically sprinted deeper into the store. My first day here and I meet the most ruggedly handsome guy I have ever seen, with manners no less, and eyes that are as deep and bottomless as eternity, and I blow it. It was a fairy tale encounter. Right up until I tripped over myself, knocked over a stand of Kibbles N’ Bits, landed on my ass, spilled my handbag everywhere...I mean, did I have to go on? I almost dry humped the guy’s leg! I suck. I so suck. What is my problem?! Seriously, what-is-my-problem?

Lost in self-incriminating thought, I collected the basics for my new home. I walked into the checkout line, checking my list off item by item in my head, when I felt a presence.

No. Oh no. Not again.

Yes please, my inner self peeped.

I knifed my inner self immediately.

I knew it was him. I knew it was. I don’t know how I knew—maybe it was the rubbery quality of my legs. Maybe the lightheadedness. Maybe it was the musty, not quite sweaty eau d’homme smell. Or, maybe it was the fire combined with Goosebumps that once again spread throughout my body; lava settling deep in the pit of my stomach and pooling in my groin. Christ-on-a-crutch, what was going on with me?

Don’t look up. Don’t look up! Be busy. Busy and important. Crap to do. Dinner to cook. Or not. Something to do. Don’t look up.

I methodically unloaded my basket onto the conveyer. As my items slowly traveled toward the checker, which was unfortunately none other than Ronnie, here to witness the end to my marathon of stupid, I dug through my purse for my wallet. And dug some more. I moved unidentified objects aside, feeling. Groping. Searching. Finding every small article I owned in the world, except my bloody wallet.

“This can’t be happening,” I muttered under my breath, turning my eyes down to the sink hole that was my handbag.

I dug deeper. I looked harder and faster and more frantically. It probably looked like something at the bottom of my bag had my hand and was trying to wrestle it away from me. But, when all was said and done, it wasn’t in my God-damned purse! It wasn’t...freaking...there!

I gave a deep, exasperated sigh. I looked up at Ronnie apologetically.

“I....I don’t...”

Ronnie, finished tucking the last item neatly into a paper bag, straightened. His eyes held mine expectantly.

I had the sudden urge to run. Or hide. Or do anything but stand there like a fool and shake my head minutely.

“I’m sorry, guys.” I half turned to glance at Apollo standing next to me. He had a good-natured grin wound around confusion. “I don’t have my wallet. Er, actually, I might have my wallet. I don’t know. I just moved and I have a ton of stuff in this bag.”

I shook my bag a little, like this was all its fault.

I looked at Ronnie squarely. “I am really sorry Ronnie. I need to put those groceries back. I know I have my wallet somewhere, because I remember using it. I just don’t know where it might be at this point.... So...”

I reached for the paper bag, wondering if my face was as red as it felt. Usually a couple things would be happening at this point. First, the next person in line, no matter how patient, would start stamping his foot, have pity on his face but not hide his intense frustration at me making him late to his next engagement. Even if he had nowhere to be, he would feel late. Life in the city, as it were.

Second, the overworked, underpaid cashier would be pissed at having his day interrupted by someone that was in a grocery store with no money. Only a dingle-berry would go to a store without their wallet. The cashier would commence treating the patron, me, like said dingle-berry.

Strangely enough, Ronnie the Cashier was not mad in any way. The opposite in fact. Even though, not that long ago, he had to rebuild a display in my honor, he did not wear even a hint of a frown.

Odd, that.

I looked over at the next person in line with the same apology on my face, forgetting of course that he was completely gorgeous and turned me to goo. My legs got rubbery as his eyes probed mine.

Luckily for my fear of embarrassment, I looked away as quickly as possible and was able to gain composure. Small steps.

I reached for the groceries, wondering how long it would take to put everything back. To my surprise, Ronnie had taken the bag into his hands and was coming around the counter.

“It’s okay, ma’am. It ain’t much you got here. Where ya livin’?”

Confused, I told him the address, then heard a slight shuffle behind me. Curious, I turned to investigate and met intense puzzlement, which was strange. Oh, my, who cares, look away. God, but he was gorgeous.

God broke the mold when he made you.

Are you tired? Tired from running through my mind all day?

Did it hurt? When you fell from Heaven?

“Oh, Ms. Peek’s place?” Ronnie asked helpfully.

“Uh...her name is Gladis? I don’t know her last name. In her cottage out back. I just moved in today.”

“That’s her, you bet! Well then, you’ll be right back here in no time. Ain’t many places to shop as close as this here!”