Page 35 of Stealing His Cupcake
That dissolves me into a very unsexy pile of snorting giggles, and I have to lean against the wall to keep my balance. I’m not at all surprised when a pair of strong hands holds me upright, forcing me to look into my prince’sdarkexpression. The thought sets out more giggles, and I’m glad I just peed.
“Are you alright?” he asks with audible concern. Perhaps he’s worried he kidnapped a complete lunatic.
Well, no takebacks. He took me, so now he has me. And I have him. “I’m fine. Perfect,” I reply when I manage to stop laughing. “Everything’s perfect.”
Chapter 24
Wyatt
WhileIhadbeenworried the entire time that Amy was in the bathroom, I couldn’t exactly follow her inside. I had to trust her to follow the rules, and believe the fear of my potential retribution on people she’d ask for help would keep her in line. When she came out, chatting with a stranger, I feared the worst, but then she started laughing at something the other woman said. And now? Now I can’t make heads or tails of her.
It feels like something between us shifted profoundly. For the better, yet it still nags at me. Good things don’t just happen to me. They’re hard- earned or they’re a trick. I haven’t given Amy enough reasons to trust me yet, to be comfortable around me, so the sudden change in her behavior is suspicious. If it was anyone else, I’d be sure they’re playing me, but Amy doesn’t have a deceptive bone in her body. Her smiles and the ease with which she leans into me as we go through the shop feel genuine. So genuine that the hope I felt this morning blossoms further, setting me up for a major, yet inevitable, heartbreak.
For now, I bask in Amy’s easy smiles, grateful for a moment of normalcy with her, no matter how brief it may be.
“Can I have these, please?” she asks, pulling me out of a spiral of dark scenarios.
“What?” I’ve been so distracted I haven’t even noticed her picking up a pack of almonds in chocolate. “Of course. Anything.”I’ll give you anything, just don’t break my heart.Fuck. I didn’t even know I had a heart until I accidentally gave it to her. I’m so screwed.
“Thank you!” She beams, her smile so vibrant it lights up her expression. A trucker at the end of the aisle looks at her, his eyes roving down her body, pausing on her cleavage for a few seconds too long, then getting stuck on her beautiful legs.
My fist clenches, crushing the pack of cheddar-flavored chips I’ve picked for myself. I don’t even realize I’ve moved toward the leering creep, intending to annihilate him from the planet’s surface, until Amy steps in my way. Her smile is still there, though some of its lightness has dimmed, and the corners of her eyes are drawn tight. “That’s okay,” she whispers, reading my mood as if she could see into my soul. Who knows? Perhaps she can. Perhaps she really is an enchantress.
The trucker heads for the register but him being out of my sight doesn’t ease my anger. If anything, it inflames it because now I’m convinced he’ll be waiting around the nearest corner, ready to snatch Amy away from me, because with the way she looks, all beautiful and radiant, everyone in the entire world must be thinking about stealing her. And I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Amy repeats, a little more urgently. “Can we just go, please? I don’t even want the almonds, just…” She tugs on my arm as if she could stop me from going after that asshole if I chose to. The problem is, I don’t want to anymore. When she looks at me with those sweet brown eyes, now wide with worry, repeating, “Please?”, I can't help but forget all about murder.
Taking a deep, slow breath, I calm down and re-engage my brain. Was I really about to kill someone in the middle of a gas station store, in frontof half a dozen cameras? Just because he looked at Amy? Alright, that part was justified, but I have to be smarter about it.
“We’re getting the almonds,” I say once I’m sure my voice won’t tremble with anger. “And anything else you want.”
She watches me carefully. “Okay. Maybe some jerky?” I know she’s just trying to distract me, but it’s still working. “Or marshmallows!”
Shaking off the rest of my anger, the visible part at least, I smile at her. “Jerky-wrapped marshmallows. Got it. Sounds disgusting, but whatever works for you, cupcake.”
“What? That’s not what I meant!” Amy chuckles, shaking her head. “Though it might be an interesting combination.”
“Ah, so we’ll be making puking stops aside from peeing stops? That’s going to work wonders for our average speed.” Seeing I’ve made a complete mess of the chips in my hand, I put the crushed bag back on the shelf and pick up another one.
Amy sucks in a sharp breath, glancing around to see if anyone’s watching us as if we were committing a grave crime. “You should pay for that,” she whispers urgently, pointing at the smashed bag.
God, she’s so adorable. Naïve, but adorable. I can’t help but tease her. “Why is that?”
“What do you mean? You—” Looking around with a positively guilty expression, she whispers, “You broke it. You can’t just put it back. That’s not right.”
I make a valiant effort not to laugh, I really do, but I fail anyway. How has Amy grown up this incrediblyproper? There’s no father listed on her birth certificate, and her mother was a junkie. Kids growing up in that kind of shit tend to repeat the pattern and yet, Amy is the most law-abiding person I’ve ever met. We make quite the couple. “You know who I am, Amy,” I tell her softly. “I’m not a good person. You are the only thing that matters. As long as you’re by my side, the rest of the world can burn. I couldn’t care less if everyone around us suddenly dropped dead. What makes you think I care about not putting a fucking bag of chips back on the shelf?”
I know my words are over-the-top, but she needs to hear them. “I am who I am,” I add. “I’m not going to change.” Except I already have.
Instead of recoiling in fear like I was convinced she would, Amy surprises me with an adorable eye roll. “Well, when you put it that way, it does sound silly. It still makes me feel bad, though. What about the poor, chips-craving person who buys that bag and instead of a nice, crunchy snack, they’re left with chip dust?”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “They can burn in hell. Let’s go.” I lead her away before I do something stupid, like actually buying the damned chips. I might have changed for Amy, but I don’t want to change that much. I like being an unscrupulous asshole.
Arms full of unhealthy snacks and a few bottles of even unhealthier soda, we stand in line at the register. I hover around Amy protectively. Not to stop her from running but to prevent anyone from looking at her.
Why did I fucking tell her to dress nicely? So stupid. That dress of hers is like a lighthouse beacon, drawing everyone’s attention to her.
I should have told her to wear those old leggings, though she’d probably still be beautiful in them. I should have made the scarf bigger. Blanket-sized, so I could wrap her in it completely. That’s going to be my next project. A floor-length poncho. With a hood. That way, no one but me would ever see those beautiful legs of hers. Or her tits. For fuck’s sake, those tits. Just the thought of them is making my cock strain against my pants as we finally pay for the snacks and leave the stupid shop, me battling an urgent desire to burn it to the ground with everyone inside. I curb it somewhat, mostly because it would take too much time. We have an appointment we can’t miss. I do, however, make note of the leery trucker’s license plate. It shouldn't be too hard to find him later.
