“Sure.”
As I end the call, I feel rather than see someone in the same aisle as me.
I turn my head to see Liam a few feet away. He’s pretending to peruse the candy.
“That was my sister, Debbie,” I say as I step closer to him.
He looks up. “From the little I heard, she sounds just as you described. Although I don’t know if her narcissism is as undercover as she wants others to believe.”
His blunt assessment of my sister breaks the tension I’ve been feeling in my chest since she called, and I feel my shoulders relax.
“What are your faves?” He gestures to the candy rack in front of him.
“I love peanut butter cups.” I grab a few. “How about you?”
“Same, actually.” He pulls several more off the shelf.
We walk to the refrigerated section next.
“Bottled water?” I ask him.
“Good idea.”
I reach for the gallon jug on the bottom shelf.
“You want to drink out of that?” Liam asks me as he takes it out of my hands.
“Ha-ha. This is to save time and money.” I grab two large bottled waters in addition and lead him toward the cash register. “You’ll find I’m annoyingly frugal.”
“I don’t find that trait to be annoying,” he says as he sets the gallon on the counter. “I grew up without a lot.”
A young kid, probably in his late teens, rings up our order. Liam hands him a credit card before I can even reach for my purse.
“Those quick reflexes must help you on the ice,” I joke.
Liam shoots me a panty-melting grin. “Sure do.”
“Here’s your card, sir.” The clerk finally looks up.
He does a double-take when he recognizes Liam.
“Uh, Mr. Storm. Liam Storm. Sir…you’re my favorite player.” He stammers and blushes and is utterly adorable.
Liam thanks him and agrees to a photo with the kid.
As we’re walking back to his truck, he says something totally unexpected. “I’m glad you were in there with me.”
I hustle to keep up with his fast walk. He’s a big guy, and while I’m nearly five feet nine inches tall, something about Liam makes me feel like I’m always trying to keep up.
“You’re glad I was there to help choose what water to buy?” I have no idea what he means or if he’s joking.
But his tone is deadly serious when he says in a low tone, “Full disclosure—I still fight the urge to lose my shit every time I walk into a convenience store.”
We’ve reached his truck now. Like a gentleman, he opens the passenger door for me, and I slide in.
I watch him walk around the truck to the driver’s side. And I have no clue what to say to him.
I know what he’s referring to, of course. Once Emerson and Max got engaged, she filled me in on the Storm brothers and how their mother died when they were young, and then their father was murdered while working the graveyard shift at a convenience store. Such a tragic story, and my heart broke for these brothers who’ve clearly loved each other through the best and worst of times.
