Page 43 of Fastlander Fighter

“Maybe you should be a therapist.”

“Alas, I have no time for that. I have a very important job.”

“Oh yeah? Where do you work?”

“You are looking at the day-shift low-man cashier for Grunt’s Grocery. I am celebrating my one-month anniversary there tomorrow.”

“You work at Grunt’s?” he asked. “Really?”

“I’m living the dream.”

“That was the grocery store I grew up going to. Okay, pop quiz, where is the cat food?”

“Aisle nine.”

“Nicely done.”

She shrugged. “I’m a fast learner. I have eyes on that head cashier position. Sandra Mosley has the best register, and I’m gunning for her spot. My register keeps glitching and I have to have management come fix it like four times a day.”

“Huh. Maybe I’ll come shop at your store sometime.”

“Maybe I’ll wear my cashier apron lower if I know you’re coming in.”

“Whooo, seductive.”

She was giggling really good now.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly.

“For what?”

“For listening to me whine about my brother. I’ve never told anyone that stuff before.”

Something about that drew heat up her neck and into her cheeks. She liked that he trusted her to vent to. She also liked that he didn’t stay in a bad mood long, and came out of it easily with a smile.

“Want to see something crazy?” she asked.

“Is it your red bra strap? Because I’ve already seen it. I’ve been staring at it half this entire time I’ve been in here.”

She laughed and tucked it back under her tank top. “No, and it’s not my matching red lace panties either.”

Captain’s face went blank. He pursed his lips and froze like a statue. A laugh consumed her at his dumbfounded expression. He was easy to get to.

“Just kidding, I’m wearing granny panties in a festive color.”

“Even better,” he growled, the glint of teasing back in his eyes.

“You say that until you realize they are control-top granny panties to keep my stomach in and cover my stretch marks.” Yep, that was a test.

Without one second of hesitation, he said, “I want to see.”

She frowned, the teasing leaving her system completely. “You want to see my stretch marks?”

“Yep.”

She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I don’t…I don’t know. They’re kind of a lot.”

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to show me, but just so I know where this reaction is coming from, do they make you feel insecure, and if so, why?”

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