Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“Blaze?” I call out, not intending to, but it’s a reflex.
He hasn’t responded, and I forget my cart and walk up to him. I put my hand on his shoulder tentatively, not wanting to startle him. “Hey.”
He turns slowly, and I wince at the haunted look in his blue eyes, his usually sun-tanned face white.
His gaze locks with mine, and then it drops. “I wondered how long it would take you.”
“You knew I was listening?”
“Figured. You flew right past me in the cookie aisle and never looked up. We always seem to find each other.”
I grimace. “I didn’t want to see those frosted cookies with the sprinkles. Ah, sprinkles, my old nemesis.” I shake a fist in the air, but he doesn’t even crack a smile.
“I smelled your perfume when you hit the liquor aisle. Figured you were back there somewhere.”
“Dude, that is not perfume. I need to tone down the peppermint body wash and the essential oils I diffuse.”
He looks down at his hands. “Don’t. I like it. Reminds me of Christmas.”
I huff out a laugh. “Just call me jolly old Mrs. Claus. All I need is a big red velvet dress with white fur. Maybe I can get a side gig at Macy’s during the holidays.”
He raises his head and looks at me, his brows lowered. “You’re too hot for Mrs. Claus. If anything, you’d be one of those little elves with the pointy hats and green leggings.”
Oh.
It feels as if we’re having a nice conversation. I clear my throat. “Who’s the lady with the attitude? I’ll go after her if you want. I have a mean right hook. My brother Mattie taught me. The trick is how you hold your fist.” I demonstrate. “See? Knuckle is out.”
“Beating up old people? That’s not your style.” He shakes his head and reaches into his cart, takes out a beer, opens it, and takes a long swig. A grimace flits across his face.
“Blaze—”
“Trust me, don’t ask. It’s not a pretty story.” He pauses. “Besides, you were never that interested in my past before. You were too busy lusting after my hot bod.”
“I see you’re feeling better.”
“Not really. I think I’m going to throw up.” He holds up the bottle of Fat Tire beer. “This piss is not what I need, but my throat is dry…” He leans a little too far to the right, in danger of crashing into the cold storage, and I grab his elbow.
He takes in a deep breath, his chest rising as he gasps for air. “Shit, Charm. Don’t feel so good. Do you…can you…” Before he can finish his sentence, his eyes roll back in his head and he slips straight down to the floor of aisle 9.
FML.
My knees drop to the floor next to him, cradling his head in my lap, which thankfully didn’t hit the tile as hard as it could have. I say his name a dozen times, my tone escalating with each one. I give him a tiny slap and then another one that’s hard. “Blaze! Wake up, you…you big oaf!”
One of the Piggly Wiggly cashiers comes around the corner. With acne and braces, she can’t be more than sixteen. She drops the box she has in her hand. “Oh my God, did he slip and fall? Should I call the manager?” Her eyes flare. “Is that Blaze Townsend? Do you think he’ll sign something for me? I’m a big fan.”
I’m about to tell her to stop talking and call an ambulance when he speaks, his voice low and husky.
“You’ve been wanting to slap me for months,” he mumbles as he struggles to push up on his elbows. “What the hell is an oaf? Who talks like that?”
“It just came to me. I think it means crazy big guy. Seemed appropriate. Are you okay?”
“Just woozy. My workout was intense today, and I haven’t had dinner.” Red appears on his face as he looks around and sees the wide-eyed girl who’s gaping at us. His eyes lock with mine. “Damn, this is embarrassing.” He rubs his cheek and huffs out a small laugh. “Nice slap.”
I smirk. “Sorry. Don’t be embarrassed. Once a lizard got in Vampire Bill’s cage and he eviscerated it piece by piece. All I could do was scream, and when he ripped its head off, I keeled over like a piece of fluff in the wind.”
“I never took you for the kind who passes out at the sight of blood. Nothing scares you.”
Yeah. I’m the girl with the rules to protect her heart. That’s not brave. It’s insane and a little ridiculous, but it keeps me steady and focused on my goals—or it used to.
“Pfft. There’s plenty you don’t know,” I say.
“I know.”
I let that pass and help him stand. He weaves for several seconds but seems to find his balance, shoving back hair that has fallen in his face.