“How are you and your lady getting on?” Mr. Timmons steps into the aisle. “Need help finding anything?”
I twist my body slightly and bite back a giggle.
“We’re just fine, thank you, Mr. Timmons.”
As soon as he walks away, I turn back.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because he thinks we’re dating.” I can’t stop the giggle.
“And why is that so funny?”
“Like I would ever date you.”
Havoc frowns.
Can’t he see how ridiculous the idea is?
“Why wouldn’t you date me?”
Other than the fact that you hate me. “Not only aren’t you my type—”
“What exactly is your type? Rich?”
More money is the last thing I need. We could live off the interest on the interest of my money for generations. “No.” What is my type? It’s definitely not a man like Darrel. “He’d need to be intelligent, sensitive, thoughtful, a little bit nerdy…maybe morecerebral than nerdy. Kind…dating a kind man is important. And loyal.”
Havoc snorts.
“What? I know a man like that is probably impossible to find. They only live in books.”
“They’re real. They’re just picky about the women they choose to spend their time with.”
Are they really? Darrel sure didn’t seem to be. Then again, he was none of those things. “I’m ready to check out.”
“Is that your way of avoiding the conversation?”
Absolutely. “I have plans this afternoon.”
He nods but doesn’t look convinced.
“If I didn’t want to be here, I’d just leave.” Which is true. I could call Cordelia and she’d drop everything to pick me up. Bram might even do the same, but I wouldn’t ask that of him. We’re just barely becoming friends. I walk towards the front counter, not waiting to see if Havoc is ready or not.
We’ve shared way too many truths, and he’s been far too grumpily honest for me to want to spend much more time with him.
My hormones are starting to kick in enough that if he says something else mean, I just might cry.
Havoc sets the basket on the countertop.
Mr. Timmons walks over and says, “That all for you two?”
“Yes, thank you. But don’t you worry, I’ll be back again soon. Your store is wonderful.” Which it really is. I wish I had taken more time looking at it than I did ‘talking’ to Havoc.
“I’ll look forward to seeing both of you again. That will be eighteen dollars.” Mr. Timmons didn’t even look at the antique register, which seems to be there only to make change. He did all the math in his head.
Wild. “Where’s your credit card machine?” I slip my card out and wait for him to pull out a phone or grab a machine from under the counter.
“No machine.” Mr. Timmons nods to a sign on the door that says cash only.
