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And then, oh my god, I realize Tanner's sauntering my way, each step brimming with the kind of confidence that comes from knowing you can handle any storm—or grocery store. He has this mischievous spark in his eyes, like he's up to no good, and I find myself hoping that I'm the cause of that twinkle.
"Hey there, Molly. Fancy meeting you here," he says, leaning casually against the mountain of avocados like he's auditioning for the role of 'grocery store heartthrob.'
I feel my eyes go wide, surprise flickering through me before it melts into amusement. A laugh bubbles out of me, unbidden, as if it's been tickled right out of my chest by his unexpected presence. "Well, Tanner, I guess it's just a lucky coincidence. Or maybe the universe is trying to tell us something." My cheeks are on fire, but I don't look away this time. I let him see the effect he has on me—let him see that I'm all in for whatever game we're playing.
Tanner's chuckle rumbles through the space between us, a sound that seems to vibrate right into my core, setting off all kinds of alarms—or maybe they're fireworks. He nods at my nearly overflowing basket, the one I've optimistically filled with ingredients for recipes I'll probably never attempt. "Need any help with those? I'm a pro at carrying heavy things, you know."
My pulse kicks up a notch, hammering against my ribcage as if it's trying to compete with the bass of a club anthem. It finds its rhythm there, fast and insistent. I hesitate, my gaze flicking to his outstretched hands—hands that look capable of lifting more than just a few grocery bags. There’s strength in those fingers, a promise of steadiness and protection.
"Sure," I manage to say, the word escaping in a breathy exhale. I pass him the bags with the heaviest items—a testament to his past life where he's been honed by discipline and danger. It's just cans of soup and a bag of rice, but in his grasp, they seem like nothing.
We start walking towards the exit, and I can't stop myself from sneaking peeks at Tanner. His profile is sharp, each feature carved in a way that speaks of resilience and determination. The store lights catch in his dark hair, throwing shadows across his strong jawline, and damn, why does this feel like I'm living out some sort of sultry daydream?
"Watch your step," he says suddenly, his voice teasing yet laced with concern. I realize I'm about to collide with a stand of discounted chocolates, too caught up in my own head—and the sight of him—to notice. I sidestep it, mumbling a thanks, feeling the heat of embarrassment mingling with the warmth already swirling inside me.
I steal another glance, hoping I'm being subtle. His lips are quirked in an amused smile, as if he knows exactly what's going on in my mind. My stomach flips, doing an acrobatic routine worthy of a gold medal. Excitement jostles with nerves, a potent cocktail that has me both eager for and dreading the end of this unexpected encounter.
"Chocolates are a dangerous obstacle," he comments, eyes glinting with humor.
"Only to my waistline," I shoot back, finding my footing again in our easy banter.
His eyes fall to my waist, and my heart races. I can see the way his eyes trace over the slight curve of my waist and then stray down over my hips. My skin burns as if he physically traced my curves.
The automatic doors slide open with a whoosh, and we step into the liquid gold of late afternoon sunlight. Tanner's arm brushes mine as he adjusts his grip on the bags, and I swear every nerve ending in my body fires at once.
"Long day?" he asks, turning that intense blue gaze on me. The kind that sees right through you.
"Um, yeah, sort of," I stammer, trying to look anywhere but at him. "You know, the usual hustle."
"Tell me about it." He nods, a lock of dark hair falling rebelliously across his forehead. "What's been keeping you busy?"
"Photography mostly," I say, finding my stride now. "I've got this crazy dream of traveling the world, capturing moments no one else sees."
"Sounds incredible," he replies, and there's a weight to his words, like they're more than just polite conversation filler.
"Thanks, it's..." I trail off, almost getting lost in those eyes again, before I snap back. "It's just a dream for now."
"Hey, dreams are good. They keep us moving forward," he says, and something about the way he says it—like he really means it—has warmth blooming in my chest.
"Exactly!" My enthusiasm bubbles over, and I can't help but share more. "There's so much beauty out there. I want to see it all—from the Eiffel Tower at sunset to the northern lights."
"Seeing the world through your lens must be something else," he murmurs, his expression suddenly serious.
My cheeks color. "You have no idea. Sometimes it feels like I'm stealing pieces of the universe, freezing them in time."
"Then you're quite the cosmic thief, Molly." His voice is low, a soft rumble that vibrates through me. "Can't say I don't admire that."
We reach my car, and I pop the trunk open, still riding the high from sharing my passion with someone as...magnetic as Tanner.
Tanner lifts the bags into the trunk with ease, the defined muscles of his arms flexing beneath his shirt—a subtle display of strength. Our fingers brush as he hands me the last bag, and damn, it's like a live wire zaps between us. My breath hitches, and I swear I can feel every nerve ending come alive.
"Thanks for helping me," I say, wondering how such simple words can feel so charged between us.
"Anytime," he replies, and I catch the promise in his eyes, an unspoken vow that sends another shiver skittering down my spine.
I catch him watching me with an intensity that should be too much but somehow isn't—not when it's him looking at me like I'm the most fascinating puzzle he's come across.
"Your view of the world—it's refreshing, Molly." His words are simple, but they resonate. "You've got this... innocence. Makes me want to see things through your lens."
