Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
This was her moment. Her meet cute. Her kismet. She opened her mouth to say hello, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, her eyes did the work for her and stayed on him as he passed by her and headed toward another aisle.
Maisie couldn’t take her eyes off him, even if it was his backside, no matter how hard she tried. He had on a darker than royal blue, but not quite navy suit, with a red tie. His presence screamed power and her lady bits begged her to chase after him.
So she did.
Maisie followed him down the aisle, ditched the junk food and tampons on the closest shelf, and straightened out her clothes. When he stopped, she leaned to the side and took stock of what he had in his cart: apple and orange juice, vegetables for a salad, and a loaf of bread. This man ate healthily. Unlike Maisie and Dorian, who liked to binge on ice cream and whatever sweets they could get their hands on.
He turned around and smiled at Maisie. She froze and may or may not have smiled back. For all she knew it was a half grin that made her look constipated. She turned and looked at the shelf. They were in the canned veggies section. Maisie reached for a can of creamed corn. It was something she hadn’t eaten since she was a child but in that moment, she found it to be the most interesting can she’d ever seen in her life.
Out of her peripheral vision, she saw her man move, and she followed, like the stalker she was. Maisie needed a moment or ten to muster up enough courage to speak to him. Her heart was beating wildly as she thought about what she would say and how he would respond.
And then she thought about his voice. Was it husky? Or deep? Or was he well spoken and eloquent? She hoped for the first option. Did he have an accent? Living in New England, an accent was almost guaranteed. Even though she didn’t think she had one, the out-of-town patients she had met in the emergency department often said she did.
They went down the next aisle and feeling a bit more brazen, Maisie stepped in front of the man with the sole purpose of checking his left hand. If he had a ring, she’d bail. She would give up. Maisie wasn’t a homewrecker. Still, she needed to get his attention somehow.
When Maisie saw him reading the label on a box, she attempted to reach for something on the top shelf. Her short stature worked in her advantage when he leaned over and grabbed the item for her.
“Here ya go,” he said in the smoothest voice she had ever heard. Those few words were like butter to her, and the comparison had her instantly imagining his voice whispering words that melted decadently over her body, much like she wished other parts of him did. Lost in her fantasy her hands loosened on the item and she dropped the box.
They both bent down to pick it up.
“Ouch,” they said in unison as they smacked their heads together. Mr. Butter prevailed, thanks to his long arms, and handed the box back to Maisie while he held his hand against his head. Definitely no ring.
“I am so sorry,” she said. “Would you like me to look at the wound? I’m a nurse.” The second the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to hurl. He didn’t have a wound and it was highly unlikely he even had a bump. They conked heads, nothing more.
“I think I’m fine.”
“You are,” she said and then immediately regretted her verbal vomit. What in the hell is wrong with you? Clearly, Maisie had forgotten how to flirt.
He nodded, reached for his cart, and left the aisle.
“Fucking idiot,” she mumbled to herself. Maisie took some calming breaths and then stood tall. She would fix this blunder and apologize for acting like a fool. She went to the next aisle, ready to confront the man with an apology. Maisie walked toward him, knowing she had nothing to lose except her dignity. She stopped near his cart and watched as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He looked at the screen, turned and walked away.
Maisie stood there, stunned.
Was she really that bad at flirting that he would bolt from the store to avoid her?
Clearly, she was.
Resigned, Maisie went back to the aisle where it all started and retrieved her items. Now, more than ever, she wanted to lose herself in the sweets. She had one shot to make a first impression and couldn’t even do that right.
As of late, Maisie was down on her luck when it came to romance. It seemed that every first date she went on ended up being with the wrong guy. She believed her soulmate was out there, she just had to kiss a million frogs until she found him.