I chase him around the store for ten minutes. He’s quick and precise with his shopping. His lack of patience to browse shouldn’t surprise me. I’m mesmerized by his concentration while loading his trolley with paper bags of nails, screws, caulk, some big roll of paper, and other random stuff.
“I love these.” Plucking a windmill from the checkout display, I blow on it as we wait in queue. “When I was younger we had to get out of our house in a hurry because…” I peek up at Theo and grimace “Let’s say forreasons.Anyway, my dad told me I could bring one toy. I grabbed this red and silver windmill that I stole…” I glance up at him again.
He regards me with wide eyes.
My name is Scarlet Stone and I steal random stuff and plant it in the sparkly rucksacks of mean girls, then report them as thieves so they get in trouble. Karma is my religion.
I clear my throat. “That Iborrowedfrom Piper, a girl who made fun of me in school. I had far more expensive options, but I chose the windmill.” I blow on it again and smile.
“Pinwheel.” Theo loads everything onto the conveyer belt at the checkout.
“Sorry?” I deposit the windmill back in its cardboard display and squeeze past him to wait at the end of the checkout.
“It’s a pinwheel, not a windmill.”
“I don’t know what you mean by pinwheel.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Of course you don’t.” He shakes his head.
“You’re making fun of me.”
He smirks.
After the cashier scans the last item, Theo reaches over, grabs the ‘pinwheel,’ and swipes it past the scanner himself. He holds it out to me like a long-stemmed rose. Expressionless.
I gawk at it, then at him for a few seconds before my grin wins over and I take it. “Thank you.”
He considers me with a tense brow and eyes that make a slow trip down my body and back up to meet my gaze. It’s not sexual, it’s confusion, conflict—maybe even wonderment. For a moment so brief I can’t fully make sense of it, I think he sees my truth. I could cry because it’s… I inhale a shaky breath… not his to see. He nods once and swipes his credit card.
My hands fist. I haven’t had the urge to chew my nails since saying goodbye to Oscar, but Theo could break me before I get the chance to let go on my own.
I clear my throat. “You shouldn’t use credit cards. They’re not secure.”
He glances over at me while I blow on my windmill.
“Our system is secure, ma’am. I can assure you,” the cashier says.
Keeping my focus on my proverbial long-stemmed rose, I shake my head. “It’s not. If I had a laptop, I could bring up every credit card number that’s been swiped through that exact machine in the past thirty days.”
“You can load your lumber around the back, just show them your receipt.” The clerk hands Theo his receipt then gives me a dirty look like I said something wrong.
“What?” I say as Theo continues to scrutinize me while we walk to the truck. “Cash. Pay cash, Theodore. It’s safest, unless you keep your wallet where someone can pick your pocket.”
“I’m going to feel someone sticking their fucking hand in my pocket.” He gets in the truck.
I open my door and throw him his wallet as I get inside. “I’m not so sure you would.”
He leans to the side and feels his back pocket, like there’s really any question that I lifted his wallet.
“Fucking thief,” he mumbles as we drive around back to get his lumber.
“Ex-thief.” I grin, holding my windmill out my rolled-down window.
It’s a good day. Scratch that. It’s a great day. Theo loading heavy lumber into the back of his truck is a visual treat. I lean against the side of his truck. My windmill takes a backseat to Theo’s muscles. My insides warm as my mind drifts back to the feel of his hard, naked body pressed to mine.
Human touch—oxygen to the soul.
“You’re drooling.”
