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“Can you believe Professor Harris?” The taller one flips her hair, scanning the shelves. My grip tightens on the box, willing them to take a hard left, anywhere but here. Their steps slow, they’re close, too close.
“Totally clueless that Marlene is after him,” the other agrees. I freeze, recognizing Juliette’s voice. Fuck my life. I should’ve locked the damn door. I’m pretty sure the store closed twenty minutes ago.
Please let them search for a different aisle. Any aisle. Anything but this one.
But, of course, life loves to play cruel tricks on me.
The girls come to a sudden stop, their eyes widening as they see me surrounded by boxes of period care. It’s like time stands still for a moment as we all register the sheer absurdity of the situation.
“Oh my God!” The taller girl gasps, her hand flying to her mouth in shock.
Juliette bursts into laughter. “Don’t tell me you’re into menophilia now?”
“The only vampire around here is you. But if you must know, I’m helping my girlfriend restock so we can get to the Coach’s ceremony on time.”
“Today? She’s going with you now?” Her eyes widen in surprise but quickly shift into a smugness. It’s as if she figured out a secret she’s been trying to unlock for some time.
“Yeah.” I draw out slowly, not trusting her look.
“Hmm.” Her tone screams superiority, and I get the feeling she’s looking down her nose at me as if she somehow gained an advantage. She hits her friend’s arm. “Let’s go.”
“But, I need?—”
“We’ll get them on the way,” Juliette interrupts. Not leaving any room for discussion, she heads toward the door.
I shake my head, as confused as her friend. Whatever that was, I don’t have time to worry about it. I’m down to the last case to put away.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
AMANDA
Usually,walking from the back of the store is bland and mundane. But not today. Not when Blake Morton stands with his arms folded, sporting a proud smile across his handsome face as he surveys his handiwork. He is a sight to be beholden.
I ignore the tingling in the pit of my stomach and step closer to him. “I think you’re hired.”
Blue eyes find mine, holding a glint of something more than pretense.
“Wow.” His gaze travels along my length, appreciation clear in the pause between us. My flutter-sleeve, crew neck blouse doesn’t reveal any skin besides my arms, yet he looks at me as if I’m the centerfold in a magazine.
“Let’s hope I don’t trip over these heels before the night’s over.” I point to the shoes, trying to keep the mood light. I opted for a more casual look, pairing the bronzed amber shirt with a brown pencil skirt that isn’t too tight and balances my body proportions perfectly.
“Then I’ll catch you.” His deep baritone sends chills skating across my skin. He holds my gaze as his steps close the distance. “Always.”
His words are honest, a promise that shouldn’t feel so real. But when he looks at me like I’m the only one holding his attention. Like his only care in the world is to take care of me. I don’t know. I fucking melt. No one has ever made me feel this special.
“I need to lock up, then we can go.”
He nods and points to a pile of broken-down boxes. “Want me to dispose of the cardboard?”
“There’s a bin in the back where they go.”
He lifts them up. I go to help, but he stops me, nudging his chin toward my heels. “No use twisting an ankle over cardboard. I’ll be right back, Princess.”
The new nickname causes me to pause. I cock my head at him. “I thought we settled on ‘Babe’ for a nickname.”
“Eh, I like Princess better. You deserve all the finer things in life.”
The corners of my mouth lift. How ironic. Too bad he’ll never know the irony behind the nickname.
