Page 2 of Piece Of Me

She smiled to herself. He should be.

Scarlett marched up to the counter and before she had a chance to say anything he spoke.

“Are you okay?”

Lord. Have. Mercy.

“Am I okay?” she said, planting her hands on the counter. She blew at a wisp of hair that tickled her nose. “No, David, I’m not okay. I’m so far from okay that I had to hop into my brother’s truck, which if you’ve seen it, you’d know how ridiculous it is. I can barely reach the damn gas pedal. And try parking that thing. I couldn’t find a spot close by that would fit its big ass, so I had to park clear across town by the water tower.” She shook her head. “So no, David, I’m not okay.”

“Oh, well, I…” He was clearly flustered.

“Why did you put me on hold this morning and never pick up again?” she interrupted.

His brow furrowed. “This morning?”

“I called about my package?”

“But I?—”

“I’m not here to listen to excuses. I want my package. It was supposed to be delivered yesterday, and it didn’t come. Then I was told it was to be delivered today, and again nothing.” She threw her hands into the air. “You can imagine how pissed off I was when it didn’t arrive.”

Sweat broke out on David’s brow and he nervously, shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry, Scarlett but it?—”

“Again,” she held up her hand. “I’m not interested in why it didn’t come. I’m standing here in my damn nightgown, so you know how serious I am.” She thrust out her chin. “I’m not leaving until I have it.”

“But Scarlett…” His voice trailed off as she leaned toward him, and he took a step back.

“No buts, David. I will hurt you. Remember the bus?” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go get my package.”

His gaze moved to just behind her, but at her annoyed tsk, he hopped to attention and disappeared into the back.

“Well, that was entertaining.”

Scarlett froze, suddenly aware of an audience. The voice was low, warm, with a hint of rasp and a Texas twang. She didn’t recognize it and angled her head to the side, noting a pair of worn brown boots and the frayed edges of jeans that covered long legs. To get a better look she’d have to turn around, and she wasn’t in the mood.

“Glad you liked it,” she replied lightly, eyes on the door as she waited for Wilcox to bring out her package.

“It’s not every day I see a little slip of a woman make a man twice her size crap his pants.” A pause. “Makes me wonder.”

“Why are you talking to me.” Her voice was sharp.

“Just trying to be friendly.”

“Well don’t be.”

“Can’t help it. My momma raised me to be a gentleman.”

“Good for her.” Annoyed, she took a step forward.

“That’s not nice,” he replied lightly.

“I’m not a nice person.”

“I’m beginning to see that,” he replied, moving so that he was abreast of her.

Scarlett didn’t have to turn her head to know he was tall. Out of the corner of her eye she noted the long, lean lines. The broad shoulders and muscular chest shown to perfection in a plain white T-shirt. She couldn’t see his face exactly, but she was guessing it was as interesting as the rest of him.

Not that she was interested.

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