Page 101 of The Heart You Kept

“I came to say hello.” He leans against the shelving with his shoulder, his hands in his suit pant pockets.

“Hello.”

“Thought I might pick up one of those mystery boxes.”

I glance over at him and he gives me the best come-fuck-me look of all time.

How does he know about them…wait a minute, does he watch my morning videos?

“You don’t need to buy a mystery box.” I keep looking for another troublesome box, true to its name its designation is a complete fucking mystery.

“You’re going to give it to me for free then?” He raises an eyebrow as his eyes hold mine, and the air crackles between us.

Okay, stop.

Everything that comes out of his mouth sounds so sexual…. Or maybe it’s just that I really, really want to have sex with this bastard.

“Edward, I’m very busy tonight.” I find a pair of boxes, too small for the lamps but who cares at this point, I’ll stuff them in if it kills me.

“Too busy for me?”

I look back over to him; his dark eyes hold mine as he leans against the shelving.

Never.

“Umm.” I hesitate as his closeness causes every cell in my brain to misfire, not a single coherent thought.

“Well?” He reaches over and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Is there anything I can do to…. Help?”

Tear my clothes off.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Umm.” Again…. No words. Nothing. Just complete and utter deer-in-the-headlights dumbass.

He breaks into a broad smile; the bastard knows he has me flustered.

“I’ll go look around the store.” With a last long smolder, he walks out the front and I drop my head into my hands.

Fuck.

How is this man so ridiculously hot? It’s criminal, no woman on earth could find a box in these conditions.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” Helene comes around the corner like a hornet, she peeks through the blinds. “His hot guard is with him.”

“Which one?”

“The one that looks like Jason Statham.”

“That’s Philippe.” I pass her the boxes.

“Well, Philippe is delicious and I am totally screwing his brains out.” She shoves them back. “I have my own boxes to look for.”

“No you are not,” I whisper angrily. “Nobody is screwing anybody.”

“What is wrong with you?” she whispers.

“What is wrong with you?” I fire back.

“Where are the boxes?” Jonty sticks his head around the corner and widens his eyes. “What the hell are you two doing? There’s a thousand people out here waiting for boxes at the cash register, you know?”