Page 7 of Time For You
Chapter Three - Autumn
Quickly, I slid onto the driver’s seat of my car and tossed my bag on the floor of the passenger side. The ignition rumbled as it came alive after I pressed the start button. I stared at my rearview mirror watching protectively for Rory to get into her car. It may be the middle of the day in an overall safe town, but I’d spent too many days and nights in New York looking over my shoulder to do anything less.
Once I saw her brake lights turn on, I backed out of the parking spot and turned the vehicle out of the lot heading for the store at the edge of town. The drive was no more than five minutes since only a handful of lights existed down the main thoroughfare and they were all green. Apparently today was my lucky day.
Once I parked the car, I dug into the bag and retrieved my wallet and the list of groceries Mom had requested. All of the ingredients for chicken korma graced the white paper in my mom’s delicate cursive handwriting. Her penmanship was something I’d always been jealous of.
Inside the store, it didn’t take long for me to find what I needed. The layout hadn’t changed in the six years since I left and I doubted it would in the next sixty. Unlike the big grocery chains, Chuck’s Grocery didn’t have the latest technology where you could scan your items as you went and then pay via a mobile app. They were old school and still tagged each individual item with the price tag. There wasn’t even a self-checkout to be found.
Mr. Granger stood at the register, his face wrinkled with smile and laugh lines. The kind you hope for as you age. The kind that showed you lived a good life. He waved at the family that had just finished checking out before turning back to the register. His eyes shot up when he noticed me standing there.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Autumn Easterly,” he said as I began placing my items on his tiny conveyor belt. “I’d heard you were back in town, but I learned long ago not to believe everything you hear.”
I didn’t have to force a smile for Mr. Granger. My happiness to see him was honest and sincere. It helped that I used to work part time in the grocery store when I was in high school to help buy my first laptop and he’d paid me a little extra under the table when I’d tutored his grandson.
“It’s the truth this time. Mark that one in the history books,” I said and admired his gravely chuckle. I’d missed that sound.
“I can only hope the reason for your visit is nothing more than the telephone game then.” He started sliding my goods across the scanner as I narrowed my eyes at him shrewdly.
“What are they saying?” I said apprehensively. It wasn’t that I cared what the town said about my return. I knew how Ashfield gossip worked. But I didn’t want to cause any damage to my parents or their reputation, especially if it wasn’t within miles of the truth.
Mr. Granger had the decency to blush as he released a nervous chortle under his breath. The type where you’re embarrassed for someone else, but you aren’t quite sure how to tell them.
“Well, you and I both know it wasn’t anything salacious. So, you might as well spill the beans.”
I listened as he loudly whispered what some rumors were of my return. If I were in a lesser frame of mind, I would retreat to the only home I’d known with my tail tucked between my legs, but it was all too sensational to give it more than a giggle in passing.
Once Mr. Granger had finished bagging the items and I’d paid with my card instead of Mom’s cash, surprised to see he had finally upgraded to a credit card reader, I left him with a smile and a wave. I couldn’t help the snicker as I turned to exit. His old cheeks were still a ruddy, blotched mess from our conversation.
I was too busy looking over my shoulder at my old employer to notice the solid wall of muscle in my pathway.
“Oomph,” I mumbled as I impulsively pressed a hand to the mass as I took a step back. Luckily, I held the bag of groceries in my other or else there would have been a mess to clean up on aisle three.
But as I turned my gaze from Mr. Granger to the form I’d bounced off of, I realized there was still a chance for a mess on aisle three. I wasn’t sure if it was pure unadulterated lust or just my synapses not firing on all cylinders, but my hand clenched the stranger’s white t-shirt in my fist as I stared up at him slack-jawed. Maybe I had been gone too long and I was seeing a mirage, as if I’d been lost in the desert searching for water. And he was certainly a tall drink of water.
Double my height and a wall of pure muscle, the man before me lifted the edge of his mouth in a smirk as I blinked uncontrollably. I didn’t recall seeing him before, but again, I had been gone for long enough that new residents made Ashfield their home.
“Um. . .sorry,” I said, reluctantly unclenching my hand and releasing his shirt. I winced at the clump of wrinkles I left behind. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“That’s okay. No harm done.”
“Well, I’ll let you get back to choosing a flower arrangement.” I was already overstaying my welcome, and as he turned his attention back to the display, it was clear that he didn’t need me lingering.
But obviously my brain was still a muddled mess and I asked, “Need any help?” I may not be a botanist, but with my event planner job, I’d put together a few floral arrangements in my day.
He huffed out a laugh and it wrapped around me like a warm, heavy blanket. I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in its comfort.
“Is it that obvious?” The stranger turned his dark brown eyes to me again and I felt myself melting beneath their gaze. I returned a soft smile, noticing that the temples of his wavy, dark brown hair were slightly gray. Which left me realizing that he was older than I originally thought, but a lot of men grayed earlier due to stress or life in general. Hell, there was a girl in my high school that started getting gray hair at sixteen. I always had a thing for the George Clooney type anyway.
“You do seem a little lost. But I’ve put together a few arrangements in my time. What occasion are they for?” I asked as I skimmed across the display. I knew the flowers were local and there was a wide array of choices, but I’d always been drawn to seasonal arrangements.
“Dinner.” He’d said it without a second thought, which effectively poured cold water over my entire body. Of course, a man like him would be taken. It was stupid to think otherwise. He was the most attractive man I’d ever seen in Ashfield or New York for that matter. He almost had a familiarity about him, but I couldn’t place it. Not that it would matter now. He was buying flowers for his date or girlfriend. I’d already searched for a wedding band and found him lacking. At least I was able to narrow that down. I wasn’t a homewrecker like my ex.
Wordlessly, I grabbed the display I thought was the most beautiful. And was probably the most expensive, but by the watch he wore and the name brand sunglasses dangling from the collar of his crewneck, I knew that he most likely had the money to spend.
“These. I’m sure she’ll be impressed,” I said as I not so gently shoved the cellophane wrapped bouquet at his chest. Luckily, he grabbed it as I released my hold and shifted my grocery bag into the other hand. He was too busy adjusting the flowers in his grip to notice that I’d moved past him to the exit.
“Thanks!” he called out after me, but I continued walking like I hadn’t heard him. I’d embarrassed myself enough for one day. I needed to head home before I did any more personal damage.
