He ignores my command and reaches for my next item.
“Aspen, I’m just helping with your groceries.”
I don’t want to make a scene. And he’s right, it’s not a big deal. Just groceries. “So, tell me what you’re doing today,” he repeats. I let out half of an exhale. He just doesn’t stop.
Fine. “I’m shopping for a dress for the Chamber of Commerce Silent Auction the week after next.” I pause and then add, more to myself, but he hears, “I need to find a good dress.”
His eyes light up. “I’d love to see you in that dress. I’m going to that event, too.”
“Please. You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all. My dad always goes for his law firm, and he asked me to go. Social events aren’t really my thing, but I’ll definitely go if you’ll be there. Especially if you wear a dress. A red dress!”
“You are unbelievable.” I can’t help but let a tiny smile escape. But still. What a freak.
I pay for my groceries, and as I ready my cart to leave, Ryker gets his batteries and citronella candles rung up. As I’m walking away, out of the corner of my eye, I see him hand a hundred-dollar bill to the cashier and tell her to put the change in the “charity box thingy” for animals that sits next to the register.
I’m exiting the doors to the store, and he strides right up next to me, his long, sexy legs easily keeping pace. As we walk out the doors, we’re ambushed by a couple of Girl Scouts.
“Good morning ma’am and sir, would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies? They’re a special summer release, for camp.”
God, no, I think to myself. I have no need of Girl Scout cookies. I make pies every day, for crying out loud. And I don’t have any cash on me, anyway.
Ryker says otherwise. “Absolutely, ladies,” he cheers, flashing them his beautiful smile, and I have to admit, it stops my heart.
The girls squeal with joy, and I stop walking, as I can’t help but watch this unfold. He follows them back to their table to survey the options. “I’ll take ten boxes of Thin Mints, ten boxes of Peanut Butter Patties, and ten boxes of Shortbreads.” The girls squeal even louder at the whale they’ve just harpooned, and they grab the boxes.
“Put them in her cart,” he says, pointing to me, and before I can say no, the girls laugh, throwing them in. He pulls out two hundred-dollar bills and tells them to keep the change. They run back to their table, giggling. What is it with this guy and hundred-dollar bills? And I can’t help but giggle, too, at the absurdity of all these Girl Scout cookies in my cart, that he bought them, and that he is so damn hot and playful.
And generous.
But what am I going to do with all of these damn cookies?
“Ryker, you are something else. I don’t want these cookies, you know.”
“Well, I don’t either, but you make me return them to those girls,” he says, as he turns around and looks at the smiling kids.
I smile and shake my head. “I’ll donate them to the homeless shelter when I take my pies next week.”
We continue walking to our cars, and he says, “I read about that on your restaurant’s website. That’s really cool.”
I don’t know why, but my insides get warm and gooey like homemade mac and cheese. He read my website.
“So, what you do, Ryker, that you can just throw hundred-dollar bills everywhere and want to invest in my bed-and-breakfast without even hearing the pitch.”
“Crypto billionaire.”
I jerk to a halt in the middle of the parking lot, right behind a car trying to back out. The driver sees me blocking his way and honks the horn. Startled, I jump, and Ryker gently places his hand on the small of my back to guide me out of the way. My back sears red-hot under his touch, and a gush of desire pools between my legs. I swallow hard, and the blood pounds in my ears. I shuffle faster to put distance between his hand and my back, but he keeps pace. And his hand stays there.
“You can move your hand now, Ryker.”
“But I don’t want to,” he says darkly, and chills run through my skin.
I try to say—“But I want you to”—but the words don’t come out. I’m enjoying the surge of sparkles shooting through me far too much.
I get to my car and open up the trunk and start loading in the groceries, and he tries to help, but I finally get my head on and stop the nonsense. “Ryker, stop!” I snap. “I can handle my own groceries. Please.” He raises his hands in surrender. I’m clearly no longer in a playful mood.
Crypto billionaire. Well, that explains everything. I don’t know squat about crypto currency, but I know what the word billionaire means. For some reason, it kind of annoys me. Easy money. It figures.
Life has never been easy for me. Which is fine. I like staying busy and focused, but…
He interrupts my internal rant. “So where are we going shopping for your dress?”
I laugh despite myself. “I am going shopping for my dress, after I take my groceries home and put them away.”
“Great. Sounds fun. I’ll see you at your place.” A playful smile lights up his face, and he turns to walk away, full of confidence and virility. I’m left standing there, speechless, as he gets into his car. He must be kidding.
I finish loading my groceries into my car, and I get inside it. I start the engine and look at myself in the rearview mirror. I give myself a straight talk, squinting at my reflection. “You better stop it, Aspen. Get your shit together!” There is no room in my mind for a man. My heart might have room, but my mind doesn’t. And my
