He finally unstuck his feet and moved forward, walking up to her slowly.
“Hi!”
She turned, startled, and a tiny frown creased her forehead.
“Hello?” It was a question, not a greeting. She blinked, a bewildered expression on her face as if she’d never seen him.
He reached out a hand to touch her, but she flinched so he quickly drew it back. What the hell was this all about?
“ML? It’s me.” He gave her what everyone told him was his most appealing smile, hoping that would put her at ease.
Instead she took a step away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know you. I think you have me confused with someone else.”
He felt his smile slipping. “You forgot me already? I thought I made a better impression than that.”
I sure tried my damndest.
She stepped further away, dropped the melon into the bin. “Excuse me. I have to finish my shopping.”
Grabbing the handle of her shopping cart, she skittered past the rows of produce and hurried the corner into the frozen food section.
Marc stood there, staring after her. She didn’t know him? What was going on here?
Had he done something wrong?
Had she regretted it all this morning and was trying to pretend it never happened?
What do you think, asshole? A nice girl like her was probably just taking a quick walk on the wild side.
But they’d connected. He knew it. Felt it. It was more than just sex. A lot more.
Okay, so she’d only seen him in the weird lights from the bar and the little glow of the bedside lamp at his house, but did he really look that different? Should he have rolled up the long sleeves of his shirt so she could see the tatt? She’d been so fascinated by it, running her finger over it. Would that have jogged her memory or as she deliberately burying it? He’d been all too aware last night wasn’t a usual event for her, and he’d tried to take as much care with her as possible. Make sure she was completely satisfied.
Blow it off. There are a lot more out there just like her.
But the fact of the matter was, that wasn’t exactly true. His Music Lady was one of a kind.
And he’d have to figure out how to find her again.
The anticipation of preparing food dissipated. With rapid strides he pushed his cart up and down the aisles, tossing in the bare essentials he needed.
Hoping to see her again.
And trying to convince himself that he was imagining the hurt burning in his heart.
***
Emma hurried to the farthest corner of the store, as far away as she could get. She huddled in the soft drink aisle, hand pressed to her chest, heart pounding. She was more mortified than anything else. A stranger walked up to her and she panicked? What could possibly happen in the grocery store? Was she so freaked out moving passed her boundaries last night that strangers frightened her? Could she have acted any more like an immature teenager? Or worse yet, a prickly spinster?
She had to admit good-looking men didn’t usually come on to her in the grocery store. Or any place else. Probably because for years, she’d walked around with that “Keep Away” sign all but plastered on her forehead. There had been something familiar about him, but at the moment she was still wrestling with her late night joy ride. She couldn’t handle another strange guy stepping into her life.
Of course, she could have handled it better. Right? Instead, she’d just made an ass of herself and the guy was really cute. Sexy. Neatly combed mink brown hair. Lean body in jeans and a long-sleeved, collared shirt. A vest. Clean shaven with the scent of something fresh and outdoorsy tickling her nostrils. Stormy blue eyes.
Stormy blue eyes?
Really?
Ohmigod!
Was it him?
Shit, shit, shit.
Discomfiture crept over her like a thermal blanket. How could she not have recognized him? After the incredibly intimate hours she’d spent with him? Bad enough she was still trying to straighten out the maelstrom her emotions had become. Now she had embarrassment to add to the mix.
Okay, so she wasn’t expecting him to look like Nick Next Door when she saw him again. But that was no excuse. You didn’t have incredible erotic sex with a man one night and then not know who he was the next day, even if he wasn’t wearing his rock star persona. No wonder hurt had flashed in his eyes.
Dork—that was the word for her.
Emma was torn between wanting to find him again and hiding until she was sure he’d left the store. What if someone saw them together? Told Andrew? Okay, told him…what? That she was talking to a strange man in the grocery?
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat.
What if Andrew himself showed up here? He shopped here sometimes. He was already angry at being unable to reach her. Just one question about the man she was talking to and her face would give her away. She had never been a very good liar.
And then, of course, Andrew would immediately be on his cell talking to her parents.
More fun.
Emma, Emma, Emma. You wanted to experience life. Okay, here it is.
But give her a break. Who expected a rock musician to be wandering the aisles in a grocery store? In her limited, distorted view she never associated them with mundane, every day activities. Big mistake.
Sliding open the door to the cooler, she pulled out a can of soda and rolled the cool aluminum against her hot cheeks while she tried to pull together the fragments of her brain. She waited in the corner as long as she could before venturing down the aisles again. She moved slowly, keeping an eye out for her Guitar Man, wanting to apologize yet afraid to face him again. Finally, she made it to the front of the store without running into him. Her grocery shopping was done for the
