“Meu Deus. O que devo fazer?”
“Find—”
Gabby shoved the cup at Zoe and rushed out of the stall, not bothering to look back.
Zoe stared at her retreating back. “Are you serious?”
She was going to kill Gabby. She didn’t need to worry about getting home to her husband and three boys because her body was going to be buried in a shallow grave somewhere along the highway.
A throat cleared behind her. “Is she coming back?” The deep timbre sent shivers down her spine.
She’d only heard it a few times, but she recognized Tim’s voice. His was the only one that had ever caused that kind of reaction. Pressing her lips together, she turned slowly to face him. Or his chest since she barely reached his shoulders. It was a nice chest too, snuggly wrapped in a gray Carolina Panthers t-shirt. She tilted her head up and took a step back to be able to see more of him.
Her lady bits swooned and she had a sudden urge to fan herself and say things like “fiddle-dee-dee.”
Maybe it was being back in the south, but there was something about a guy in a beat-up ball cap that did it for her. It framed his face, accentuating the squareness of his jaw. His eyes were shadowed under the bill, but she remembered their color and how bright they’d seemed surrounded by dark lashes.
“Well?”
“What?”
He pointed in the direction her sister had run. “Is she coming back to pay for all this?”
She glanced over her shoulder, remembering the coffee that had been drizzled over the shirts. Her shoulders sagged.
“Highly unlikely. If I know Gabby, she’s waiting around the corner to say how sorry she is I got caught.”
“Gabby, your sister?”
She tried not to stare as he slipped his hands into the front pockets of his well-worn jeans.
“Unfortunately.”
“Oh my God! My mom is going to kill me!” A teenager rushed over to them and frantically picked up the stained merchandise. “What am I going to do?”
Zoe rested a hand on the girl’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I had anything left in my cup and I tipped it over. I’ll pay for all the shirts.”
“Really?” the girl asked with tears in her eyes.
“Of course. It’s my fault. And I know how mothers can be, believe me.”
“Thank you. She’d seriously ground me until I graduate if I told her all these shirts were ruined.”
They gathered up the shirts and Zoe followed her to the corner where the register sat.
“Do you like working in the market?” she asked.
“Not really. It’s hot during the summer and there isn’t a lot of traffic in the off-season, but I have time to study between customers.”
“What are you studying?”
“AP chemistry right now.” She bagged the shirts and lowered her gaze. “There’s eleven shirts. You can get six for the price of five, so if you get one more…” She shrugged her shoulder.
Zoe smiled. “What’s your name?”
“Beth.”
“I’ll grab another shirt.”
