Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“It’s no big deal,” I tell her, and she looks up at me with narrowed eyes.
“Everyone in the store is looking.”
I glance over my shoulder and see that she’s not wrong. At least six people have walked toward the fridge section to see what all the aisle two fuss is about.
“Lance! Aisle two! Now! Emergency!”
Her true emotions are on full display now, and she flashes a glare in my direction. “Because of you, the Red Bridge firemen are going to end up getting called out again.”
“Because of me?” I question on a humorless laugh.
“Yeah. You. The mop emergency alarm-sounder.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not the one who dropped an entire gallon of milk on the floor just trying to turn around. If you’re going to point fingers at someone, you’d better do it at yourself.”
Narrowed eyes whip back to my face, and her pretty mouth parts in disgust.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be such a grumpy jerk, you know?” She glances down at my stuff in her cart and scoffs. “What kind of grown-ass man buys Danimals anyway?”
Lance chooses that exact time to show up, sleep in his eyes and a mop not much skinnier than him in his lanky hand, saving me from having to make up some line of bullshit. “What happened back here?” he grumbles, his voice raspy like he just woke up from a nap.
“I accidentally dropped the milk,” Norah admits. “I’m really sorry.”
“This is a mess,” Lance complains, and her cheeks go back to that pinkish-red hue again.
If it were me, I would tell Lance to fuck right off, but that’s not what Norah does.
“I know.” She grimaces and holds her hands together like she’s praying. “I’m so, so sorry.”
She’s back to the apologies. Back to polite. I can’t stop myself from poking at the flaw.
“You think I should line up everyone in the grocery store so you can start your apology tour?” I ask, and Norah’s gaze swings back toward me. “Probably’ll make it easier for you to get through them, you know?”
“Excuse me?”
“Apologizing. It’s your thing,” I answer with a shrug. “Figured I could save you some time by rallying everyone up while Lance finishes mopping.”
Her mouth drops open so far, I can see all of her pearly white teeth.
“What?” I question. “You can’t deny it’s your thing. Miss Apologies. Even when it’s not your fault, you say sorry for it. And whenever I think you’ll get tired of always apologizing, another assurance slips from your mouth.”
She is appalled. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”
“Well, I did.” I offer one nonchalant lift of my shoulder. “You know why? Because it’s the truth.”
Her eyes narrow like they have the power to crush me in the process. “You know what your thing is?”
“What’s that?”
“Being the world’s biggest dick,” she snaps, finally showing some backbone again.
“Having the biggest dick or being the biggest dick?” I question with a smirk. “Just want to clarify since I’ve heard the first on more than one occasion.”
“You know, one moment, I think you might actually be a nice guy beneath that cold, hard, grouchy surface of yours, but then, you prove me wrong by being an asshole.”
“And asshole and a dick? Don’t hold back on my account, sweetheart. Please. Tell me what else I am since you seem to know so much about me.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but then quickly closes it. She even does that two more times before she lets out a deep exhale of air and turns back to Lance. “I’m really sorry about this. Thank you for cleaning it up.”
“Whatever,” the teenage grocery employee mutters as he halfheartedly finishes mopping. Ten bucks says the next person through this aisle eats it.
Without another word or glance in my direction, Norah finishes grabbing several more gallons of varying milks, carefully puts them in her cart, and heads for the front of the store like I never existed, my eggs and Danimals going with her.
I guess it’s safe to say I pissed her off.
Whatever. I don’t have the time or energy to let myself care. I have way more important stuff to worry about.
Quickly, since I’m starting over, I go back to my list and gather the things I need before stopping at the pharmacy to pick up Summer’s prescription and heading for the checkout myself.
Earl blathers about this year’s high school football team, and I pretend to listen as he scans my stuff and bags it for me.
“Later, Earl,” I call as I move through the automatic front door and head in the direction of my truck.
The sun is strong and bright today, and I can barely see for the reflection of light coming off the pavement. That’s probably why I make it all the way to my truck and unlock the driver’s side door before realizing I’m being accosted again.