Hard Ride (Filthy Dirty Desires)

I can’t be back to chat with him. Even though I’d love to get to know the personal side of him. What movies does he like? Is he a country music fan like me? What side of the bed does he sleep on? Favorite superhero. Important things. The things that make him tick. Things I’ll never know. Sadness fills me as I move across the glossy floor.

“Betty,” Mr. Redford says as I approach him, leaving Silas standing in the middle of the bakery. “I wanted you to meet Dan West. The new owner.” He gestures to the tall man standing next to him.

I have to lean back just to get a glimpse of his face. “Hello, Mr. West,” I say, sticking out my hand for him to shake.

I stare into his blue eyes, trying my best to produce a genuine smile, but my lips don’t want to cooperate. It could be because he’s very intimidating in his black suit and matching tie.

“How do you do?” he says, shaking my hand with a firm grip. He glances over my shoulder at Silas, and then returns his attention back to me. “You shopping with your boyfriend today?”

I let go of his hand, smoothing my palms on my shorts. “No, he’s just a… a…” I can’t think of what he just is.

“A friend?” Mr. West asks.

“A customer,” I reply quickly, letting this man know I’m all business when I’m in this store. “I’m very friendly with all my customers.”

He studies me for a moment, like he’s trying to decide if my words are true or not. “I see.”

“I’m excited to work for you,” I say, changing the subject. “Mr. Redford says you have a lot of ideas on how to make the Hungry Grocer even better than it already is.”

This makes him smile. “Yes, yes, I do.” He steps back. “We can discuss that during your work hours. We won’t keep you on your day off. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” I shake his hand again and say my goodbyes.

When I turn around, Silas is still standing there, waiting for me to return. I walk right past him, not wanting my new boss to see me chatting it up with the president of the local motorcycle gang.

“Betty,” he says, gruff and growly. It’s almost like he demands my attention. Like there’s no other choice but to talk to him.

“I’ll meet you outside.” I don’t need to draw any more attention to this attraction by talking to him right in the middle of the bakery. I don’t need the gossip mill rushing off to tell my father what I’m doing. Not only for my well-being. I don’t want Silas facing the blow-back from my father. God, I’m already protecting him. Next, I’ll be sneaking things into the jail for him to shank people with.

I’m sure it’s pointless to pretend here, because my father will probably find out anyway. I swear that man has a spy on me or something.

I wheel my cart to the checkout lane and pay for my items. When I step outside with my bags, Silas is waiting by my car.

“Don’t act like last night meant nothing to you,” he says as I open the back hatch of my SUV to put the groceries inside.

“It’s not that.” I don’t even know what it is, so I focus on getting my groceries into the back of my vehicle.

Silas takes over, removing the brown paper bags full of dad’s food from my hands, and I shamelessly watch his body as he leans into my Ford, neatly arranging them. “What is it then?”

“You’re a criminal,” I whisper-yell, glancing over my shoulder, making sure no one can hear me.

The store is fairly slow with most people out to lunch after Sunday morning services, and we’re pretty secluded by my car in the back corner of the lot, but one can never be too careful. Wouldn’t surprise me if Mrs. Fuller and her friends disguised themselves as the birds trilling in the tree shading my SUV.

“Where’d you hear that? Daddy?” he asks, and I don’t like his tone. His rumbly chuckle pisses me off.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” There, that’ll teach him.

“Yeah? What else did he say about me?”

I lean closer. “He says you stole some shipment of guns. Guns,” I repeat, still whisper-yelling, nearly losing my cool.

He grabs my upper bicep, yanking me closer to him. To where our mouths are just a breath apart. “I never stole any guns.”

“You didn’t?”

“Hell no. That’s not how the Legendary Villains work.”

I can feel the anger rolling off him from my thinking he’s guilty. “Who stole them, then?”

He shakes his head, visibly relaxing the longer he stares at me. “Don’t know. That’s why I went to the Cool Cactus last night. To ask around. It’s too big of a job for me and my guys.”