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Whoa. Her legs weakened at his words.
“Effie, if you need to leave work in the middle of the day, what are you supposed to do?”
“Text Grady. Which I did!”
There was a beat of silence. Then another one.
“Didn’t Grady tell you that he was out today?”
“Um. Yes.”
“And he couldn’t check his phone?”
“Um. Yes.”
“So what would be the logical thing for you to do if you knew he wouldn’t see your text?”
“I’m guessing it’s not sending up smoke signals?” she asked.
“Text me, Effie.”
“You weren’t even at Pinkies. It’s only a quick errand.”
“And what do you need on this quick errand?”
“Steele,” she groaned.
“Tell me.”
“It’s personal.”
“Tell. Me.”
“Period stuff. All right? I’ve got my period.”
Around her a couple of people stopped to stare. She closed her eyes. Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Baby.”
There was a lot in that one word. It was said softly. With care and attention. She let out a deep breath.
“Sorry, I can get a bit, uh, snappy when I’m cramping,” she whispered.
“You got your period while at work?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“You know we keep that shit out the back for the girls, right?” he asked.
“Well, yeah. Since I’m the one who keeps it stocked up. But that’s for them, not me.”
“Baby.” This was said in a sterner tone. Which meant he didn’t like what she was saying.
“Damon,” she said quietly. “I can get my own stuff. I’m three blocks away. If you hadn’t called me, I’d probably already be back.”
“Right. We’ve got to have a talk. Soon as you get back. Hurry.”
Lord, he was frustrating.
