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“Blink once for yes and twice for no,” he said.
Shit, he was laughing at her for being all swoony over a pretty face.
“I’m fine,” Marley bit out finally, trying to get back up onto her feet. Once there, he released her slowly, those big hands burning through her clothes as they fell away.
She could feel her cheeks heat in embarrassment; she hated to be the butt of anyone’s joke, especially some guy who looked like he should be assisting Arnold Schwarzenegger in an Expendable movie. Plus, looking like an idiot in front of an incredibly hot guy is never fun.
“Sorry ‘bout almost taking you out there. I was trying to find the cereal aisle and got a little turned around.”
Marley had never been one for thinking accents were particularly sexy, but his southern drawl mixed with his smoky deep voice was terribly appealing.
“Is this your first time in Sweetheart?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Don’t suppose you could help me out by pointing me in the right direction?”
Marley knew he was playing her. The store wasn’t that big and the cereal aisle was just over his shoulder, but she really didn’t mind. It had been a while since she’d had a man, who didn’t make her want to file a sexual harassment complaint, flirt with her
“Sure, it’s just this way. I’m Marley.” She held out her hand to him, shifting her basket to her other arm.
“Luke. Good to meet you.”
Man, she loved the way he talked. “Where are you from?”
“Mississippi originally, but I’ve been living in Los Angeles the last eight years.”
“No kidding?” She stopped in front of the cereal section, waving her free arm. “Here you go. We don’t exactly have a plethora of choices, but we have most of the good stuff.”
“What’s your favorite?” he asked.
“Hmm, you mean my actual favorite or what I tell people so they don’t think I’m immature?”
He grabbed a box of Lucky Charms, shaking it in front of her. “This is mine. Which one do you actually like?”
Marley reached out and pointed to the box of Trix.
When he grabbed it and put the box in his basket, Marley raised an eyebrow. “If Lucky Charms are your favorite, then why are you buying mine?”
“Maybe I’m hoping that you’ll agree to have breakfast with me tomorrow morning?”
Marley stiffened. Did he actually think he could flash her a smile and she’d go home with him for a sleepover?
“Thanks, but I’m a strong self-sufficient woman”—she threw a box of Trix into her carton with a sniff—“and I can buy my own damn cereal.”
To her surprise, he pulled the box out of her cart and put it back on the shelf. “And while I respect that, I’m an old-fashioned guy. When I ask a girl out, I like to pay.”
“It sounded more like a proposition than a date,” she said.
He actually looked affronted, but he could just be a good actor. “Then I apologize again. I was trying to be clever, and I guess I missed the mark.”
“Hmm…Well, the next time you try to ask a girl out, maybe you should choose a less suggestive meal. Like lunch.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Marley, all traces of the lightheaded excitement gone, nodded. “Well, enjoy your stay in Sweetheart, but I have more shopping to do. By the way, what brings you here?”
“A wedding.”
“Yours?” Oh, why in the heck did I say that?
