“Oh, right. Mr. Turner was in earlier. Said Colby had a few extra hockey practices over the break.”
He nodded. Waited. And got nothing. No recognition, no excitement, no indication that she knew anything about him.
Screw the small-town gossip mill. The one time Grant needed it, the damn thing broke down.
“You look good in red,” she said, her gaze on his hat, a sassy little smile tipping her mouth. “Way better than orange. Just sayin’.”
He’d been wearing this goddamned Atlanta Braves hat for four days and this was the first time she’d mentioned it. At first he’d thought the colors were too similar, both blue caps with different brim colors. Sure, they had different emblems, but he was trying to give the girl the benefit of the doubt. She had a shit storm pummeling her life, after all. But now he was starting to wonder if that “mind like a steel trap” comment was truer than he realized.
He put his hand over his heart
. “Swear on my honor I’ve seen the error of my ways and am now a die hard Braves fan.”
“Hallelujah,” she said.
“So you’ll go out with me now, right?”
She sighed and stepped out from behind the counter, passing Grant with a breezy “I’ve got inventory to stock. Good luck finding something to fix today.”
He was mesmerized by that sweet sway of her hips and the way her ass looked in those washed-out jeans. She wore some type of cowboy boots, and her sweater was a deep, bright pink and cropped, showing her trim waist and flowing curves that made Grant’s mouth water. After less than a week, he was intrigued by her simplistic but authentic and unapologetic style. It fit her attitude and her personality, and Grant found that more refreshing every day.
Which led to today. To showing up spontaneously with no purpose, holding chocolates.
What in holy hell had happened to him?
He followed her as if she were his magnet. “Free for lunch?”
“Nope, too much to do.”
“What if I bring it here?”
“No, thanks. I really don’t have time to stop.”
“Then you might like these chocolates I picked up next door. They’re bite-size, and you can eat them on the go. They’re also part of Jemma’s private reserve.”
Her feet halted, and she stood there frozen a second before she spun on him, took a fistful of his shirt, and pulled him into an aisle.
“Whoa, girl.” He chuckled the words, thrilled he’d finally gotten a reaction out of her. “If I’d known chocolate was the key to getting your attention, I’d be a regular at Jemma’s by now.”
She let go of his shirt and crossed her arms, replacing her aloof expression. “You’re playing me. Jemma would never give you access to her private reserve.”
“Baby, I know you seem to be immune to my charms, but not every woman is.”
She leaned one shoulder against a shelf. “You’re not going to go away, are you?”
He mirrored her, loving this tiny sliver of her complete and total attention. He’d never had to work so hard to get something so simple in his entire life. But the zing he felt all through his body when they really connected was well worth the effort. “You’re not going to cave, are you?”
She grinned, a sexy, flirty little grin that shocked Grant all the way to the pit of his stomach. “Must be hard for a handsome stud like you not to have every woman drop at your feet.”
He exhaled and offered a melodramatic, “I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to be understood.”
She laughed. Her eyes twinkled. And, God, something really different was happening here. Some wild sort of chemistry he’d never had with any other woman. And he hadn’t even kissed her.
“All right, hot shot, I’ll indulge you in your game. What have you got in there?”
“Just your favorites.”
She shook her head. “Jemma wouldn’t tell you my favorites.”