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As I unloaded my full carry basket onto the belt, I couldn’t
help noticing the man in front me who was wearing a charcoal gray suit. He was
attractive, but what instantly perked up my ears was his British accent. That
wasn’t something one often heard in this suburban town outside of Dallas,
He was talking to the elderly cashier, who I knew as
Laverne, about lacking the identification necessary to buy the bottle of
champagne she was holding in her hand.
“You have my word I’m over the legal drinking age, whatever
that may be here in Texas.”
Laverne adjusted her thick glasses and shook her head.
“Unless you have some sort of identification proving it, honey, I can’t sell it
He searched the inside pocket of his suit. “Unfortunately,
my passport is back in my hotel room. Is there any chance you could give me the
bottle now, and I could return tomorrow with my ID?”
Nice try, I thought, but then realized the words had
inadvertently slipped out loud. When his ice-blue eyes focused on me, my body
immediately responded. Because the eyes were only part of what made up his gorgeous
face, now turned in my direction.
Damn, David Gandy had nothing on his younger version, for
sure. The man’s mouth turned up in a slight smile towards me before he sighed
at Laverne, seemingly recognizing that her cataracts and sour expression made any
use of his charms a wasted effort.
Taking pity, I stepped up. “Hey, Laverne, how about I pay
for the bottle? I have my ID if you need it.”
She hesitated and then glared when Brexy, my new mingled
word for British and sexy, pulled out his wallet, probably to front me the
“You keep your wallet and your cash where it is, honey. What
you two do in private ain’t none of my business, but don’t be doing it in front
of me. Rules are rules.”
Brexy and I exchanged arched brows at Laverne’s suggestive
way of putting it, but he stowed his wallet and said, “Understood. I promise
to, uh, finish this transaction in private.”
Now he was smirking. The expression suited his handsome
features very well. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.
As Laverne scanned my items, she started chatting. “Making
snickerdoodles with the girls tonight?” She directed the question towards me.
“Yes. Sure am.” I noticed the man’s gaze flick over to my
left hand. Subtle he was not. Then again, neither was I. “My three nieces,” I
offered, feeling like an idiot for needing to clarify that point.
“You don’t need her identification, I take it?” he inquired,
making room for me to slide my credit card at the terminal in front of us.
Laverne tsked “I’ve known Peyton here for nearly the
twenty-nine years she’s been on this earth, so I’m quite aware of her age
without needing proper identification.” She handed me the receipt after bagging
everything and added, “She’s also quite single.”
And with that, she was moving on to the next customer.
I shook my head over her use of the word ‘quite’ in
front of single. Because ‘single’ wasn’t enough, she had to add the word
‘quite,’ making it sound as if I couldn’t possibly be more single.
Small towns. Gotta love ‘em.
Aubrey Bondurant is a working mom who loves to write, read
She describes her writing style as: “Adult Contemporary Erotic Romantic
Comedy,” which is just another way of saying she likes her characters
funny, her bedroom scenes hot, and her romances with a happy ending.
When Aubrey isn’t working her day job, or spending time with her family, she’s
on her laptop typing away on her next story. She only wishes there were more
hours of the day!
She’s a former member of the US Marine Corps and passionate about veteran
charities and giving back to the community. She loves a big drooly dog, a
fantastic margarita, and football.