Page 4 of The HalloQueen

“It is the least one should do when they fondle someone. As long as it is consensual fondling, that is.”

I blushed, “I look at them so closely because I use them in photos to sell clothes. I don’t want them to be cracked or chipped and then spend the rest of my life photoshopping a sliver of black porcelain back into place.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Though, I don’t know if I should be insulted that you believe I’d stock subpar skulls during their busiest season.”

I leaned down to grab a pink to purple gradient skull with silver glitter eyes from the bottom shelf and squealed, “Eeee! This is perfect! Look at her, she’s gorgeous.”

“Not as beautiful as you,mon coeur.”

Scoffing, I gently placed it into my cart, “you went from angrily telling me to read the signs to calling me beautiful real quick, didn’t you, Thomas?” I took a few steps into the next aisle to grab various netting and confetti and he leaned over the chest-high shelves to continue flirting.

“Yes, well, I hadn’t looked at you yet,” His bright smile was the most playful one I’d ever seen, creasing two dimples into his cheeks and making his eyes sparkle.

“Mmmm,” I hummed, “So you admit that you’re only nice to pretty people? Is that supposed to make me feel special?”

“Oui. Most customers are…shall we say…a little ripe around the edges. You,mon coeur, are perfection.”

“You are shameless!” I laughed and walked back to my cart to place the items inside.

“Non, just French,mon amour.”

I stopped a couple of feet away from him and took a few obvious sniffs, finding that I couldn’t quite smell him. He didn’t smell bad, but I couldn't figure out what his scent was either. As he was the one pushing the line, I decided to play into it. Maybe my Andrew plan would work just as well on Thomas? “Thankfully, you aren’t ripe around the edges either.”

“If you wish to smell me, amour, come closer so you can get the full affect,” I caught him looking me up and down and I popped my hip, placing my hand on it to accentuate my waist.

“Thomas, I’ve known you for about four minutes. I don’t know if we are ready to start huffing each other.”

“And yet, you’re blatantly smelling me like I’m your favorite tea. I am not just a piece of ass for, what is the word…. oggling! Unless you’re into mutual oggling, then by all means continue so I can enjoy oggling you as well.”

I snorted and headed back towards the front of the store with my cart, grabbing random goodies as I went, “Come on, I need to get back to work.”

“And where is work? Here in Quaker's Wharf?” he asked as he walked behind his makeshift desk.

“Yes, are you from around here?”

He raised his shoulders in a slight shrug, “I am from lots of places, but yes, currently I find myself here.” He scanned a few of my items and then asked, “where do you go for fun around here?”

“Fun?” I asked “Like a bar or something? I know a lot of people -”

“Non, Annabel, I wasn’t asking about other people, I was asking about you. Where do you go for fun?”

I fumbled a bit in response, “who said I have time for anything fun?” Thomas finished ringing up my items and I couldn’t help but cringe at the total - I knew I could afford it, but it still hurt after years and years of scrimping to barely make it through. To spend hundreds of dollars on decor was just…terrifying. “Eww…”

“What is wrong?” Thomas asked, furrowing his brows, “Did I come on too strong?”

A blush burned through my skin and I nervously shook my head, “oh no, no. It’s a me problem. Don’t worry about it.”

“Bonne. So where can I take you tonight?”

I laughed again, swiping my card, “Who said I’m going out with you, Thomas?”

“I thought we were heading that direction, what with the huffing each other, as you called it. I thought I’d risk coming on strongly, before you walk out of here and I spend my day worried that I’ll never see you again.” He pushed his long charcoal sleeves up over his forearms and my blood heated. I could never help myself around a nice set of forearms, and I was hardly subtle as I stared at his defined muscles with a thin covering of dark hair and corded veins on them.

“Uh…” I shook my head, trying to snap out of it, “Thomas…”

“Give me your number at least,amour, if you need longer to get to know me before braving the real world together that is fine, but at least let me text you until you can no longer resist my intense french charm,” He handed me my bags and I hesitated.

I hadn’t dated since coming back to Quaker's Wharf, having tried in Chicago and found that it distracted me too much from my work, and with Fat Girl Fall coming up there was no way I’d have time to pursue anything. …But, then again, this was probably his busiest time of the year too. What was the harm in a little text flirting to get under his skin?Do it for the discount, Annabel. Sink your claws in.

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