Page 11 of Blue Norther
“She wouldn’t do that. She was shocked to see me. And she was…”
“What?” Hayes asked.
“She looked sad.”
“You said she’s here alone?” Beau handed me a glass of water, and I drank it down after chucking the aspirin to the back of my throat, nodding.
“Where the fuck is the guy who knocked her up?”
That was the million dollar question.
I growled at the thought. The vibration ricocheted through my body, and I winced from the pain that lingered in my bones.
Violet
Bread. Eggs. Milk. Toilet paper. Chocolate. Chocolate. Hot sauce. More chocolate.
I sighed as I looked down at the pathetic shopping list I’d managed to put together at the last minute. My hands were still shaking from seeing Colt, the scent of him lingering in my memories from the hug he’d surprised me with.
I wasnotready to think or confront my feelings about all that, so chocolate—copious amounts of it—were in order.
A shiver rolled through my body.That was weird. The feeling of being watched raised the hairs on the back of my neck. No. I’d just gotten here. Everything inside of me was hyper-aware because of what happened in New York. But there was a tall man, standing next to the oranges, who kept looking over his shoulder at me. I had to be overreacting. I just needed to take a breath and?—
Shit.I bumped my cart into the display of Granny Smith apples. As if that loud clang wasn’t bad enough, I watched as apple after apple came off the precisely stacked pyramid display. Why would anyone think that was a good idea…I looked around desperately for help, but Tall Man was nowhere to be seen.
Knowing I couldn’t just leave my apple disaster to some poor, unsuspecting teenager working late hours after school, I slowly got down, using the edge of my cart for some stability, and started rolling apples back towards the display. I grimaced, holding my belly as the baby moved, who apparently was not appreciating the way I was twisting.
“Whoa,” a deep voice boomed over me, chuckling. “What happened here?”
Heat filled my face as the stranger got down, slowly rolling apples the same way I was.
“My clumsiness got the better of me,” I said as I leaned back, stretching so the baby would settle. It gave me a chance to look at the person working beside me. Clean shaven. Kind eyes that kept glancing my way, but didn’t give off the same creepy vibes as the man who couldn’t stop looking at my belly. No. There was something almost like concern in this man’s eyes.
“Gotcha. Texas isn’t known for snow, so I guess this apple-anche is the closest thing to winter excitement we’re going to see around here.”
God, he was charming. I could feel my face flooding with heat. The stranger got up, stacking the apples back onto the display. “All better,” he said as the last one went into place. He turned towards me. I was useless, still down on the floor, contemplating just how ungraceful I was about to look when I hefted myself up.
“Do you need a hand?” he asked.
“Oh no. Just taking a minute to run a calculation about the mass, volume, and velocity needed to escape one’s own gravitational pull,” I joked.
“Those were a lot of fancy words. Are you a physicist?”
“Nope. Just a pregnant lady who sometimes has to decide if it’s worth the hassle of getting off the couch,” I laughed.
“Well, I’mdefinitelynot a physicist, or an expectant mom, but two masses have to be better than one, in these situations. Can I help you?” The kind man held out his hand to me. I nodded, pretty sure I was only accepting because I could not, for the life of me, think of any other way I was going to be able to get back up.
He did most of the work, pulling me up like it was nothing.
“Thank you.” I laughed softly as I let go of his hands, brushing my own over my belly before turning towards my cart. “And thank you for helping me clean up the runaway apples. I fear this is a story I’ll tell my little one every time he comes shopping with me.”
“It was no problem. You have a good rest of your shopping trip. Maybe just skip the canned soup aisle, though. I saw a display of baked beans that was already teetering precariously the other day.”
“Noted. Thank you again.” I waved as I pushed my cart as fast as I could manage. I was about to skip everything and just run to my car, but I was genuinely hungry and knew, for my sake and the baby’s, that I needed to get actual food to eat.
Turning the cart down the cereal aisle, I stopped. Tall Man was there, his hands around a box of Bran Flakes. It took one second for him to turn and face me, his eyes raking down my body again. I squared my shoulders.
Just get to the oatmeal. You’ll be fine.
