Tough Luck (A-List Security 1)

“This place is tiny.” Compared to the towering mountains on all sides of us, the buildings felt like a kid’s block set, and the small store would easily fit inside my house back in LA. Big mega supermarket it was not, and it even boasted a faded General Store sign like something out of a western.

“Yeah, but small doesn’t mean zero danger.” Cash gave me a hard look as we walked across the parking lot. “Stay close to me, try not to speak to anyone, and keep your eyes and ears about you.”

“Got it.” It was no hardship to stay close to Cash. He must have showered before I was awake because he smelled extra good. The morning was warm enough that all he had on was a T-shirt that showed off his tats. I hadn’t been joking about him being way sexier than Harley. I only wished he could see it.

“Oh, and no using any of your credit cards.” He paused near the store’s doors to whisper. “No paper trail.”

“I can’t let you pay!” I might not know a ton about money, but I did know that I had more of it than a career military guy who wasn’t even getting paid for this bodyguard job.

“Careful. Quiet.” Cash made a gesture to keep our voices down. “I’ll keep a running tab for you if it makes you feel better, but I promise I can afford some berries and eye stuff for you.”

“Okay.” I reluctantly agreed because the alternative was not shopping, and I didn’t like that idea at all. Once inside, the cluttered store was captivating. Decision overload for my poor ADHD brain, but I liked the quaint vibe with racks of souvenirs near the front, tight aisles of snack foods in the center, cold cases along the back, and a few food stations with ready-made food like ice cream cones and slices of pizza lined up on the side.

“This is fun.” Unlike the usual overwhelm I felt in stores, here I could hang back and let Cash go down his list and put things in the basket. I didn’t have to worry about remembering creamer or saline solution because they were already on his list and in the basket. The novelty of watching him putting together a meal on the fly for dinner later—hot dogs, buns, chips, a bag of salad, apples, and brownies—had me smiling.

“You’re easy to please.” He smiled right back, and I felt warm all the way to my toes.

And bold enough to risk a wink and a teasing tone. “I am.”

“Behave.” Cash kept his voice to a harsh whisper and added a stern frown, but I wasn’t fooled. The heat in his eyes said he remembered exactly how easy to please I’d been the night before.

“Oh, look! There’s a sandwich counter.” A bright sign advertising different local sandwich variations dragged my attention away from flirting with Cash. “We could get some for lunch. Do a picnic outside, maybe.”

“You do like sandwiches.” He was back to an indulgent smile. “Okay. Not a bad idea. Let me do the ordering.”

“Okay. Surprise me with what you pick.” I could totally get used to this not choosing thing. I followed his orders to stick close, but I drifted just enough away from the sandwich counter to look at the first row of souvenirs. Water bottles. Vests with many pockets for hiking. But then a box on the bottom row caught my eye, and I had to bend down for a closer look.

“What did you find?” Cash came up behind me, nearly making me leap out of my skin.

“Nothing. Just a camera.” I pointed at the box. “The old digital kind, not a phone.”

I tried to sound disinterested, but apparently, I failed because Cash picked the box up.

“Hey, if you miss your phone camera so much, you should get this. You can take pics of the cabin.”

“I can’t add that to the basket,” I protested even as he did exactly that. “It costs way more than the food.”

“Sure, you can. It will keep you busy, and I’ll put it on your tab.”

“Okay.” Maybe I needed a new hobby to distract myself from how damn much I wanted to kiss Cash again. Even right now, in the middle of the store, I wanted to kiss him. I settled for trying to show my appreciation with my voice instead. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” His neck turned ruddy like he knew exactly what I’d been thinking. Probably did. He didn’t miss much about his surroundings or me.

There was only one register at the front of the store, staffed by a chatty older woman with a helmet of platinum hair, alarmingly fuchsia lips, and a sweet demeanor.

“Where you boys from?”

“Bay area,” Cash answered before I could. And oh, that was smart, not telling her the truth. I wouldn’t have thought to do that.