“And you ran into me, because you weren’t looking.”
“Oh, aye. Entirely my fault. As I’ve the testicles in this equation,” he snapped, his tone chilly.
“Don’t try and make it about your testicles,” Evie said, more loudly than she intended.
Several heads turned in their direction.
Tim fought a smile, but lost. “You should see yourself. Righteous indignation has nothing on you. I’m not stalking you, Miss Winthrop. I needed groceries, as we ascertained at breakfast. We fell for the same marketing ploys, regardless of our intellect and knowledge. I apologize for the collision, but I’d my eye on this.” He bent over and plucked an item off the bottom shelf. “Upper shelf stuff, this,” he said as he dropped it in his cart. “Phasing it out, apparently.”
“What is it?”
“Chocolate covered dried cherries. Ambrosia straight from the gods. Best with either hot coffee or this!” He held up a bottle of chocolate wine.
“Mr. O’Brian, are you a secret chocoholic?”
“My dirty little secret,” he replied with a sly wink.
“Well, at least you’re not secretly into BDSM.”
Tim nearly choked on his tongue. His face went shades of red she had no name for. “Holy God, woman!” he gasped, laughing loudly. “No promises there. I’d have to know your definition of the aforementioned proclivity.”
© 2017 Dellani Oakes