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“Gram—”
“Don’t kid a kidder, Atlee Marie. I’m old, not blind. I saw the way you two looked at each other. Shoo.” She waved a hand in front of her face.
Part of my grandmother’s charm was her flair for theatrics.
“Gram, really—”
“River can take me home tonight. No need for you to rush.”
Enough.
“Gram, I love you more than anyone in the entire world.”
“I know that, child.”
“So it would really hurt my feelings if—”
A bell sounded and the front door opened, cutting off my threat.
In walked Wilson.
Apparently sometime in the last three days I’d developed a suit fetish—something I didn’t have before I’d met Wilson. Though before him I also hadn’t known I liked dirty talk and totally got off being ordered to my knees. And just thinking about Wilson’s strong hand flexing around my throat while he pounded into me made my nipples pebble.
“You’ve got it bad,” Jane whispered from much closer than she’d been before the bell had chimed.
“Huh?” I mumbled.
“Mrs. S is right, shoo,” Jane breathed. “My husband is hot, but that man is fine and he’s looking at you like he wants to strip you out of your shorts.”
Thankfully, Jane was speaking quietly and my grandmother’s attention was on the approaching men. She’d have a field day with Jane’s comments.
“Mrs. S. Jane,” Wilson greeted. “Atlee.”
Christ on a cracker, I loved the way he said my name.
“Mr. M,” my grandmother weirdly snapped.
Wilson’s startled gaze went to Gram and a slow, easy smile that sent my heart into overdrive graced his sinful lips.
“Touché,” he muttered. “We don’t have much time. Are the boxes ready?”
“Yes. Atlee will show you where they are.”
This was one of those times in life when you picked your battle. I could argue that I didn’t work at Smutties but Jane did and she was standing right next to me and could easily show the men where the boxes were, or my grandmother could’ve simply explained where they were. I knew the men frequented the bookstore and would have no problem finding them.
However, arguing would delay Wilson’s departure.
I needed him in and out…no, no, no thinking of Wilson going in and out of anything.
I heard Jane giggle.
My grandmother was about as subtle as a brick to the forehead.
“I’ll show you.”
I moved around the new releases table, set down the Kris Michaels book I was definitely buying for the plane ride home in front of my grandmother on the checkout counter, and walked toward the backroom.
When I stopped next to the stack of boxes only Jack had followed. The man was tall, broad, extremely good-looking but it was his black eyes that made me shiver. Or more to the point the way those charcoal eyes stared at me like he was dissecting my every thought was what had me squirming under his scrutiny.
