Chapter 6
The register jams for the third time in an hour. I slap the side of it like that’s ever worked. It hasn’t, but I do it anyway because I’m back at work and my brain is mush, and maybe all the sex has actually rotted something important in there.
Vacation couldn’t last forever. Dane’s still at Leo’s, but stupid real life doesn’t wait for me to want to come back to work. The only thing helping is that I texted Willow this morning, and we’re having coffee at a local cafe right after work.
“You have to lift the drawer and push it back in,” Priya says from the next register. She doesn’t look up from the pile of returns she’s processing. “Misty from corporate was supposed to fix that last month.”
“Misty from corporate has never fixed anything in her life.”
I yank the drawer up and shove it into the track. The ancient machine groans to life like it’s doing me a personal favor. The customer on the other side of the counter gives me a patient smile, and I ring up her candles and bath set with an apologetic shrug.
Same store, same register, same piped-in music. But I’m not the same person who clocked out weeks ago.
“You look rested,” Priya says once the customer leaves. She leans against the counter and narrows her eyes at me. “Like, annoyingly rested. Did you go somewhere for Christmas?”
“Nope, just stayed home.”
Home.The word rolls off my tongue so easily now. Leo’s house that is starting to feel more and more like the only home I want.
“I had a quiet one,” I add and hope I’m not blushing to my roots. Damn fair skin tattles on me way too often.
“Quiet…” Priya’s eyes narrow further. “You’re glowing. Nobody glows from a quiet Christmas unless there’s a man involved.”
I act busy, straightening the impulse-buy display near the register. “I don’t glow.”
“Liar. You’re practically radioactive.”
I laugh and escape to the stockroom before she can interrogate me further. The stockroom is freezing and smells like cardboard and industrial cleaner.
I press my palms against my warm cheeks. Shit, she’s right. I probably am glowing. I’m just so damn happy, it’s embarrassing.
I pull my phone from my pocket and see I have two texts.
Leo:Hope work isn’t too painful. Dinner will be waiting when you get home. And dessert. The dessert isn’t food.
Well, that’s just mean. Now that’s all I’m going to be thinking about. The second one makes me laugh.
Dane:Leo is attempting to make haggis. I haven’t called the authorities yet but I’m monitoring the situation.
I type back to them, Leo first.
Alice:Can’t wait. For both.
Then to Dane.
Alice:This sounds dire. Keep a food delivery option on your phone for when we’re throwing up and refusing to eat it.
I slide the phone back into my pocket and stand there for a second in the cold stockroom with my heart hammering like an idiot.
I have two men making me food, making me laugh, and offering “dessert” that hopefully comes with a side of orgasms.
My life doesn’t make sense anymore, and I don’t want it to. This is living the dream.
I grab a box of restock and head back to the floor.
The rest of the shift passes in a blur. The store is having a big after-Christmas sale. I smile, scan, bag, and repeat on autopilot. My body’s here, but my head is at home, where Dane’s leaving in a few days, and we haven’t talked about what happens next.
Willow’s already at our usual booth with two lattes in front of her when I get to the cafe. Her phone is face down, and she straightens when she sees me. She’s in Full Attention Mode.
