Page 23 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
“No, it’s important. Pretty please?” I turn on my charm and bat my lashes.
“What?”
“The Viagra, can you make sure it’s the extra strength?”
Poor Brian looks at Grant and then back to me for what seems like the tenth time. “You two are crazy. I don’t want to be in the middle of your weird fight. Use the PA yourself if you need anything else.” He holds the phone out to me. I’m more than tempted to make my request but figure we’ve caused enough of a scene, and by all accounts, I think I won this round.
“Thank you for your assistance, Brian, but we’re good now,” Grant says as he eases his grip on my arm and slides his hand down to the small of my back. I step away from him with the low hum of his chuckle in my ears.
Asshole.
The awkward tension only builds between us as the seconds tick by. Grant chats amicably with the cashier about how nice the weather is while the poor kid fidgets restlessly and refuses to meet his gaze. I glance around the store, waiting impatiently for the associate to bring the Tampax to the counter and wondering what is going to happen to my Viagra request.
Finally, the associate makes her way down the main aisle with the familiar blue-and-green box and holds it up to the male clerk. “Is this what you were looking for?”
Poor Brian blushes a darker red as Grant steps forward and takes the box from the associate. “Thank you, Eileen. You’re looking wonderful as always,” Grant says, prompting her to pat down her mass of gray curls. “How are the grandbabies? Is little Mario still as rambunctious as ever?”
Impatient to get the hell out of here, I force myself to watch the exchange between the two. Grant is holding the box of tampons in his hand, casual as can be, which is both surprising and unnerving. Not only am I privy to his personable skills with the nice lady who works at CVS but also I’m in the position to notice how perfectly well Grant’s uniform pants hug his ass.
And what a mighty fine ass it is.
Stop it. Here he is dragging me through this stupid charade, and instead of being mad at him, I’m checking out his ass? Again.
But it’s not just his ass. I’m also admiring the way his uniform sleeves hug his biceps and how broad his shoulders are.
But this is Grant Malone. He’s the little boy I used to giggle with and play cops and robbers with. He was like the brother I never had . . . so how is it possibly okay to find him this damn attractive?
It isn’t.
That’s the plain and simple answer. I can’t find him attractive. I can like him, but he’s off limits. He knows too much. Him just being here reminds me of before too much.
He’s too close when I’ve never allowed anyone to be.
I can be mad at him. I can be pissed as all hell that a little while ago he was threatening to haul me off to jail because I was a smidgen over the speed limit. I can also be livid that he called my bluff.
That’s all I can be.
Oh, and I can be damn proud that I just met him tit for tat wit
h his little plan to embarrass me.
“Right, Em?” His gravelly voice cuts through my thoughts—of him.
“Right, what?” I must look like a deer caught in headlights, and Eileen just smiles softly.
“He’s such a good boy, isn’t he?” Eileen says as she pats my arm.
I smile with so much saccharine that my teeth are going to rot. “He is.”
And then she steps into Grant and lowers her voice. “No need to be embarrassed, dear. Having trouble getting an erection can sometimes be caused by stress.” She pats his arm much like she did mine. “Try some good old fashioned pornography. I may have experience in knowing it does the trick.” She winks and gives a knowing smile that leaves me biting back my snicker before she walks off as if she didn’t just talk about porn.
Way to go, Eileen!
Grant blushes for the first time during this whole charade and blinks as if he’s trying to make sure he actually heard her say what she said. I take his stunned silence and use it to my advantage by pushing a ten dollar bill across the counter to Brian. The poor kid is standing there trying to act like he didn’t hear the exchange when he clearly did.
“I got it,” Grant says with authority, taking my money off the counter and shoving it back in my hand.
“I can pay for my own—”
