Page 2 of Rafferty

Of course, I can’t go to HR about it because she’s freaking Brienne Norcross’s cousin, and Brienne Norcross is my ultimate boss, given she owns the Pittsburgh Titans.

In a split-second decision that I hope won’t get me kneed in the nuts or arrested, I grab the beautiful store clerk and pull her into me. One hand at her waist and the other to the back of her neck, I see a flash of shock in her green eyes before I put my mouth on hers.

It’s reckless and impulsive, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

She gasps against me, tries to pull away, but I whisper against her lips, “Please… Just go with it. I need to be saved from a crazy woman.”

I lift my head, find her green eyes more confused than anything but then to my surprise, she puts her arms around my neck and kisses me back. I can’t even be impressed that she’s crazy enough to play along because holy fuck, can she kiss. Soft lips, brazen tongue.

I’ve got no choice but to engage back, sealing a blistering kiss between us that has my body reacting embarrassingly, but for the life of me, I can’t care right now.

“Rafferty, who is this?” Tansy’s voice has an edge, her tone penetrating the languid bliss as I explore the stranger’s mouth.

I pull back slowly, staring into the woman’s mossy eyes that sparkle with what looks to be amusement. My gaze drops to her chest and I see that her name tag says Temperance.

Taking Temperance by the hand, I slowly turn to Tansy and put in place a fake expression of surprise to see her there.

“Tansy… hi,” I say, giving the small hand in mine a reassuring squeeze. “What are you doing here?”

She narrows her cold blue eyes at me. “I asked who this woman is.”

Before I can answer, Temperance steps forward, extending her free hand and with a polite smile says, “Hi, I’m Temperance Martin, but everyone calls me Tempe.”

Temp-ee.

I love that.

Tansy ignores the greeting, eyes lasered onto me. “Why were you kissing her?”

Again, before I can even open my mouth, Tempe slips her arm around my waist, leans her head against my shoulder and says, “Rafferty and I are dating.”

Tansy’s eyebrows shoot up and then her eyes glitter with malice as she looks to Tempe. “Oh really? Did he tell you he slept with me recently?”

My stomach flops over because while Tempe seems like a very cool chick who might even be enjoying this, that sounds damning. “Over a month ago,” I clarify. “Once.”

The beautiful woman named Tempe, who’s holding on to me like I’m the love of her life, merely shrugs. “We were on a break. I was sowing my wild oats too, truth be told.” I nearly choke with laughter but manage to keep it down and my face bland. “But now we’re back together and stronger than ever.”

I can see that Tansy doesn’t buy a word of it and her facade frosts over to cool composure. “If you say so,” she croons and then winks at me. “But I know better. You saw me walking toward you and grabbed this stranger to kiss. I know your game and I’m here to play it. See you around, Rafferty.”

As Tansy walks away, I release the breath trapped in my lungs. Tempe’s arm drops from me and she turns back to the shelves as if a stranger accosting and kissing her in the international foods aisle was just a usual occurrence in her everyday life.

“Thank you,” I murmur, turning to face her. “You were amazing and I owe you one.”

Tempe smirks, giving me a side-eye. “Happy to help a customer.” She picks up a can, then seems to consider something and turns my way. “It was kind of fun, actually.”

Chuckling, I rub at the back of my neck. “Yeah, that was kind of fun.”

Her smile turns knowing, the dimples muted. “One-night stand gone bad?”

“You could say that,” I mutter, my face flushing with chagrin. “Tansy’s been… persistent. Stalkerish, almost, and when I saw her headed my way, I panicked and pulled you into the scheme. Thanks for not kicking me in the balls, by the way.”

Her brow arches, and she gives me a curious look. “You don’t look like the type who needs saving.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Looks can be deceiving, I guess. But really, thank you. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you—”

Tempe shakes her head, her golden-bronze ponytail swishing. “Just doing my part to keep the grocery store drama-free.”

And it hits me at this moment—I don’t think she knows who I am. She hasn’t alluded to it, nor has she acted starstruck, and I have to admit, the anonymity is refreshing. I’m considering asking her out for a drink when a man comes around the corner, dressed in the same mustard-colored shirt and khaki pants. His name tag says Dale, Associate Manager.

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