“Store’s closed,” he grunted as he continued locking up.
“Please, I apologise, but I really need that gift,” I insisted.
“Said, it’s shut.”
I ground my teeth and, determined to be polite, swallowed my temper. “Yes, I’m aware, but I’ve paid, and this is for my Gramp’s birthday. He’s seventy. I’ll pay extra if you let me collect it. Please.”
The guy turned around and faced me. Whatever he’d been about to say was halted as he stared.
“Sorry, I’m a mess! I know. There wasn’t time to change. I volunteer at an old people’s home, and as you can tell, Mr Jones really didn’t want his pie and gravy today,” I babbled.
“Or his… is that apple cobbler and custard?” he asked, grinning.
“Yup, took offence to that too.” Mr Jones, the asshole, had thrown his dinner and then dessert over me. And shit… I looked up at him. This guy was freaking gorgeous.
Laughing eyes scanned me up and down, and I hated that I was a mess. If only he could have seen me dressed up and in a sexy LBD.
“You’ve had a bad day,” he stated.
Resigned, I looked down at my jeans and tee. “Yeah, you could say that again.”
“Come on, I wouldn’t want to upset your grandfather,” he replied as I leaned forward a little and saw his name badge. Shotgun. Was that because he shot his load too early? Shotgun began howling with laughter, and a red heat crept up my neck and cheeks.
“No! I said that aloud, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. Jeez, lady, let’s get your gift before you say anything else, and I don’t get further insulted. And no woman has ever had any complaints about me shooting my load early,” Shotgun teased.
“God, I’m so sorry,” I babbled.
“It’s fine.” Shotgun opened the door and switched the lights on. “What was the surname?”
“Allegra Spalding. It’s a belt-and-wallet set with the name ‘Norman’ etched on both.”
“Ah, yeah, I got them. Here,” he said, reaching behind the counter and handing them to me. I checked the details and was highly impressed.
“These are stunning,” I praised.
“Thanks. My grandfather taught me how to work it by hand.”
“You made these? Dude, you possess some serious talent,” I exclaimed.
“Thanks again. If you don’t mind, I have to lock up,” Shotgun said.
“Oh, sorry, of course. Here, take this for your trouble.” I placed a twenty on the counter, and he shoved it back.
“Don’t want it.”
“But you reopened the store.”
“Still, don’t need it. Come on, lady, I’ve got somewhere to be.”
“Shit, I need to dash. Thank you so much, Shotgun, you saved my ass!” I cried and dashed off. I needed to shower, change, and arrive at my aunt and uncle’s. No time to waste!
Shotgun
Such a nice ass to save. Shotgun admired it in those tight-fitting jeans as Allegra rushed off. He’d intended to get her phone number, but she’d raced away. Shotgun knew it wouldbe with the order, but he didn’t abuse personal information like that. Oh well, it wasn’t meant to be. Despite being covered in food stains, there was a warmth and humour in her eyes. Allegra had caught his attention, but it was too late now.
He made his way downstairs and nodded at the prospects who were doing the final walkthrough and chasing off any stragglers. Shotgun headed for his bike; there was a cookout tonight at the club, unusual for a weekday, but whatever, he was attending. Shotgun checked his phone to see if there was a message from Rain. Today was important for this man; he was up before a panel, hoping they would approve his new experimental drug. Rain had worked himself to the bone perfecting his formula.
