Page 49 of Bad Boys Don’t Date Clumsy Girls

“Wow, that looks great.” I can’t believe how much easier it is to look at. “It looks like a real retail display.”

Dylan bobs his head in a combination of a nod and shake. “But we need to group the products within each category.”

“What do you mean?” I stare at the wall. I’m so enamored with the result, I can’t see what he’s suggesting.

He reaches up and pulls a hook off the wall that holds dog leashes and then removes another hook that holds rawhides. He puts the leashes where the rawhides had been and then yanks down a hook of dental care products and sets the rawhides in its place. Finally, he rehangs the dental care hook where the leashes had originally been.

“Oh, I see what you’re doing.” I scan the much smaller “others” category. “And you already did it with the first category. You are organized.”

“Don’t let it fool you. It’s only my epic window dressing skills. The rest of my life, I’m a mess.”

I let out a breath of relief. “I’m glad to hear that. I was about to feel very threatened.” I bite my tongue and mentally scold myself for teasing him. It’s like I can’t help myself with him.

Perhaps he sees my self-admonishment on my face, because his lips suddenly purse together, and he shifts his focus back to the dog products with an unnatural intensity.

To distance myself, I step over to the cat section. I notice that Dylan had started to organize the category before my help messed it up. Why didn’t he say anything? I finish his work by tracking down all cat toys and moving them together. Then I group the collars. My mind is going to explode with the complicated puzzle I’m solving. I steal a few glances at Dylan who seems perfectly at ease in his find and replace project. He catches me looking so I snap my gaze away. He probably has the wrong idea of why I’m watching him. Well, the right idea, but what I’d tried to disguise as the wrong idea.

I drop my chin to my chest in defeat. I can’t even puzzle out my own feelings let alone these stupid cat products. “I give up.”

“I’ll get it.” Dylan nods his head in the direction of the employee breakroom. “Why don’t you go to lunch?”

I open my mouth to protest, but when he turns the full force of his gaze on me, I slam my lips closed. I’m pretty sure his chocolate syrup eyes are sending me an invitation to drown a happy death in them. I nod once and flee.

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