“Oh.” His large hand slips to his pocket.
No doubt the action is to grab the wallet bulging from his back pocket and not to call attention to the way the faded jeans hug his firm backside. One that Trina would joke that she could bounce a quarter off. Although, I could think of far more pleasurable things to do with that ass.
Stop checking out his behind!Pushing my red-frame glasses atop my head, I twist my now extra foggy vision away from the tall man’s cute butt. I mean, how would I feel if he was ogling me like I’m the last cupcake?
That might be a nice change. It’s been a minute since someone looked at me with the same kind of covetous gaze that I’d used when looking at baked goods after that ill-begotten month I tried to give up carbs. Life’s too short to not eat a cookie or ten.
“Shit!” he grumbles, closing his wallet. “Is there an ATM around?”
Second-hand embarrassment on his behalf flushes my cheeks. Few people carry cash on them. My always prepared motto means I’m not one of them. No matter what country I’m in, my wallet remains stocked.
The cashier taps the counter. “I think there’s one down by gate twelve.”
“Thanks. I’ll run down and come back,” he says, slipping his wallet into his back pocket.
Poor guy.My lips drag into a frown. Traveling is frustrating enough but to toss in an unnecessary trip across the airport terminal is obnoxious.
“No need, I got this,” I offer, pulling my glasses back down. “I have cash.”
“No, it’s–” His words halt as he spins to face me. Beneath the brim of a blue cap, a smile curves at his lips. Its brightness is accentuated by his tidy dark beard.
A sudden swoop seizes my stomach, causing an explosion of butterflies.That’s new. Am I into men with beards?
A navy Henley molds to his muscular frame. A fresh woodsy scent wafts from him, eliciting scenes of a pre-dawn walk through a dew-kissed forest. His entire aesthetic screams sexy lumberjack. Like someone who would press you against a tree, its rough bark biting into your bare ass, while even rougher hands held you in place.
Good lord, perhaps I need to cut down on my dirty audiobooks.
“That’s kind of you, but I have cash. It’s just in the bank.” A gentle, barely noticeable Irish lilt mingles with his low gruff timbre.
I love the way unique voices tingle along my nerves. Perhaps my dulled vision heightens the way I hear the world, but I revel in the musicality of voices, picking out the unique notes that make each one distinct.
“Those pesky banks holding our cash hostage.” My smile lifts, just a little bit more, with his soft chuckle. “It’s really no big deal.”
“Are you sure?”
“This will give me at least five karma points for the day.” Stepping up, I join him at the counter.
“Are you in need of karma points?”
“Well, I did send my mother to voicemail this morning.”Twice.But he doesn’t need to know that.
This trip I lasted three of the five days I’d planned to stay at my mother’s house, a new record, before I sought refuge. On day four, I retreated to Trina’s, feigning that she had more reliable Wi-Fi for me to work from than the farmhouse my mother lives in with Charlie, her latest husband.
He grins. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of you reaching Nirvana.”
“Thanks.” I brush my long hair behind my ear, facing the cashier. “Can I get a large apple cinnamon tea and bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich on a multigrain bagel.”
The cashier shakes their head, a big laugh bursting. “That’s two apple cinnamon teas and bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwiches on a multigrain bagel.”
Twisted toward the man, my eyebrow arches. “Tea?”
He wags a finger. “That judgy eyebrow may cost you some of your karma points.”
I gesture at him. “You just don’t seem theteatype.”
“What type do I seem?”
I frown and cock one hip. “Like ‘drinks gasoline while eating a burger made out of the grizzly bear he just killed with his bare hands’ type.”
