T.A. (Biker Bitches 6)
T.A. dropped her hand from the door, staring out at the grocery store as the customers came and left while her mind flew a million miles away to a past she couldn’t change.
“It tore us apart.” Huskily, she blinked back tears as a young girl with light brown hair resembling the color of Evangeline’s walked out the sliding door. “We should be going; the store will be closing soon.”
Opening the car door, she walked to the storefront. Dalton stopped her by turning her around in the front of the car.
“I’m sorry.”
Gazing up at him, she bit her trembling lip. Not wanting him to see, her head dropped to his chest.
“It’s okay. I can’t complain when all I’ve done is stick my nose in your business,” she muttered against his coat. Raising her head, she carefully wiped the makeup smudge away from his coat as she steered her eyes clear from his. “Holidays can suck when you’re missing someone.”
“Yes, they can.” Dalton lifted his hand to her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “And you’re not sticking your nose in my business. You’re trying to be a friend. I really appreciate it.”
Bolstering herself up, she confessed the stark truth. “I’m not doing it to be your friend. I’m doing it because I want to fuck you.”
He laughed when an older woman gave her a scandalized glare as she was going into the store. T.A. wanted to bury her face back in his coat at the realization she had been overheard.
“Jesus, let’s go get the groceries.”
Grabbing a cart, she threatened to run him down with it if he didn’t stop laughing at her. As Dalton gathered the items Grace needed, T.A. followed along beside him. When he turned down the aisle to get the baking powder, she became distracted by a table of pre-made brownies.
“You’re blocking the aisle.”
She turned at the harsh voice behind her and moved her buggy aside as a large man who was the same width of the table the brownies were on passed her.
She bit her tongue when he pushed her buggy farther to the side. Telling herself it was Christmas Eve, she ignored his rudeness, picking the M&M brownies to pacify herself for not flipping him off. She was glad she hadn’t when she saw him join a scruffily dressed man in the produce section.
“I got it all. I see you’ve been busy.”
“I couldn’t resist.”
“I couldn’t either,” he said, placing the baking powder with their other groceries while also adding a box of s’mores Pop-Tarts.
“I hope you’re planning on sharing.” She wheeled the cart to the check out, where they stood in the long line. As they got closer to the register, she added two magazines that had tweaked her attention.
Dalton picked one up. It had Zeke on the cover.
Innocently, she shrugged at him. “I’m only getting it for the recipe inside.”
“Which recipe? Zeke’s recipe for his breakfast smoothie, or the one to having a healthy sex life.”
She snatched it out of his hand. “Both.”
“That magazine costs $6.99. I’ll tell you what he lied about for free.”
Resting her forearms on the cart, T.A. pushed it closer to the register. “No thanks. It’ll give me something to read before I go to sleep.”
T.A. pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at his rigid back as he unloaded the groceries. Picking the other magazine and the brownies up, she moved them farther down the conveyer belt, separating the groceries into two transactions.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to pay for my own groceries.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll pay.”
“Do you really want to argue over twenty dollars?”
She laid a hand over her items, preventing him from moving them forward with his.
“No.”
“Wise man.” T.A. gave a saucy wink at the cashier, who was watching their battle of wills. From the red tinge on her cheeks, T.A. knew she recognized Dalton.
“You’re… Are you Dalton Andrews?” The cashier’s raised voice had the customers behind them and at the next register craning their necks to get a good look at him.
“Yes.”
To give Dalton credit, he gave the woman a charming smile as she became flustered when she rang Dalton’s purchases up.
T.A. moved closer behind him. “Uh oh,” she whispered. “I think you’re in trouble.”
People were beginning to gather at the end of the register where the groceries were bagged, waiting to speak to him after he paid.
Left with no choice, Dalton began talking to them as her groceries were rang up.
“You charged me twice for the brownies.” T.A. slid the brownies back to the scanner when the cashier had hurriedly pushed them toward the bagging area, tapping the plastic lid with a fingernail.
“Sorry.” The cashier turned even redder.
“It’s all right. I can’t blame you. He gets my motor revving too.”
Flushing, the woman choked out the amount she owed. Paying her, T.A. picked up the bag and moved out of the way of the customer behind her. Strolling to the side, she waited patiently for Dalton to sign autographs and talk to his fans.