Chapter 4 #4
“How are you feeling today?” he asks, reaching around me to grab a couple cans of tomato soup. He’s so close I can’t help but notice how sexy he smells. Soap and pine trees with a slight undertone of hay. I fight the urge to bury my nose in his shirt.
“Fine. Sore, but fine.” I grab both soup options just so I can move a safe distance away from the temptation of Shayne’s flannel shirt.
“You should go for a soak. Aren’t there some world-famous hot springs not too far from here?”
“Ohhh no, hot springs freak me out. You know lava heats that water, right? There’s a reason for those ‘Swim here and risk death’ signs they have around.”
“That’s surprising. The two times we’ve met, you seemed to be very comfortable taking risks,” Shayne says, laughing. The rich, rolling sound of it should be bottled and sold on eBay.
“Yeah, neither of those moments were my finest hour. Thanks again for your help last night—I promise to be less…well just less. See you around.” I turn to head towards the end of the aisle, and Shayne follows me.
“Mineral water is great for muscle relief.” Clearly he’s not ready to give up on the idea of me cooking myself.
“So is ibuprofen.”
“We could go together. I’m always sore after work.” I sneak a glance up at him to see if he’s kidding. Our two previous interactions should have placed me on the very bottom of people he’d want to hang out with.
“You serious?” His mouth is very distracting. Especially when it’s quirked into a half-smile like it currently is.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I can think of a couple of reasons.”
“I know three people in this town. Two of them are my employers. One of them seems kind of nuts but probably fun to hang out with.”
Kind of nuts. More like completely nuts, especially if all it takes for me to consider turning myself from rare to well-done is a pretty face.
“I guess I could be persuaded to take a dip in lava water. But if I do get boiled alive, I’m for sure banshee haunting you for the rest of your life.”
“I’d hope so,” he says, stopping to take his phone out from his back pocket. “What’s your number?”
Is this gorgeous man asking me for my phone number for real? Did I fall asleep in the soup aisle? Is this a dream? I think I’ve forgotten my phone number.
Shayne is looking at me expectantly, so I just hand him my phone, fumbling it a bit so he’s forced to catch it midair before it drops to the ground. My superpower is the ability to turn even the most mundane situations into cringe-worthy ones.
He hands me back my phone and a second later a new message pops up from Shayne My Personal Lord and Savior. Guy’s got jokes.
“Very funny. I’ll be changing that contact name to Cowboy Hat Demon Horse. Oh, I almost forgot—I still have your coat.”
“I’ll get it from you when we go for that soak.
I’ll be in touch, Banshee.” Shayne tips an imaginary hat at me and then continues towards the bread aisle.
I also need bread but need to calm my nervous system down more.
There’s no way I can actually go soaking with Shayne.
I can barely tolerate being in his presence when he’s clothed.
The mere thought of him semi-naked, glistening wet, surrounded by steamy lava water—I have to grip the shelf next to me to keep myself upright.
It’s worth mentioning that John never had this kind of effect on my nervous system. I feel like my libido was lying in dormancy for ten years and now that it’s awake, I’m being tortured.
As I’m loading my grocery haul into the back of my car, my phone rings. “Nola” pops up on my screen, and I realize I never returned her call from the other day. I quickly finish loading up and then accept the call.
“Hey Mom!”
“Hey bunny! How…you today? Hope I didn’t catch you…middle of something,” her voice crackles in and out.
“I’m fine, Mom, but your reception is crap. Where are you?”
“Oh I’m sorry … no cell phones up here but … check in.”
“No cell phones? Are you in prison? Do you need me to bail you out?”
“Prison! Paige … so dramatic. No I’m … near Sedona. I don’t … took a helicopter up here.”
“A helicopter? What? Who are you with?”
“A patron of the arts! Grayson Ellis … mural commission … new wellness retreat. Thinking about doing it, you wouldn’t believe the colors up here.
I’m surrounded by fuchsia, ochre…carmine …
so beautiful … saguaros!” Mom carries on despite the poor connection, so I take a large gulp from my water bottle, preparing myself to listen to half a monologue about her latest artistic endeavor while being unable to get a word in edgewise.
“You should come visit! I’ll be here for at least a couple of … Grayson has a private residence … going to make a bundle … not to mention a gorgeous penis!” Water sprays from my mouth.
“Mom! Go back to describing the color palette. I don’t want to hear anything about your new lover’s unit.”
“Honey you’re thirty-two … life’s pleasures are finite … need to be open to possibilities.”
“Okay, Mom. Love you. Call me when you get better reception. Use protection! Janet Jackson got pregnant in her fifties!”
“Love you bunny. Grayson…vasectomy … visit soon!”
I end the call, laughing. Nola is many things, but never boring.