Page 9 of Property of Bones

I just grunt.

“That a yes?” she asks, still grinning.

I stare at her. Say nothing. One second too long. Maybe two. Just long enough for her smile to turn a bit bigger.

“Bones is shy,” Abby says with a laugh.

“I’m not shy,” I growl, finally breaking the silence. “I just don’t waste words on bullshit.”

Sunny blinks. And damn it, she doesn’t even flinch. Just tilts her head like I’m some kind of puzzle she plans on solving with a smile and sweet words.

“I like your honesty,” she says like it’s a compliment.

Hell. I need out of this aisle.

“We need to hurry,” I mutter, checking the time. “Got a shift at The Underworld.”

“Oh,” Sunny says, still too damn cheerful. “Is that a real place or just something you say when you’re trying to ditch someone?”

I pause. Give her a look. “It’s a bar. Real rough crowd. You wouldn’t like it.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No,” I grunt. “It’s a warning.”

“I don’t think you know me enough to judge if I’d like something or not,” she says, still fucking smiling. “Bars aren’t really my crowd, but I canguaranteethat I wouldn’thateit. Anyway, what can I help you guys with?”

I slam my mouth shut before I say something stupid like‘You look too damn good to be standing next to baby food.’

Great, now my fucking mind is creating poetic shit.

“I want to start Asher on solids,” Riley tells her. “But everything here looks too thick.”

“Oh, you just need a level one jar,” Sunny tells her. “We just got some in a few hours ago. I’ll be right back.”

Sunny walks off like she owns the whole damn world, all bounce and confidence and that irritatingly pretty smile.

“Is she always that chipper?” I mutter under my breath.

“She’s a sweetheart,” Riley says with a knowing smirk. “You’d like her if you gave her a chance.”

I grunt again. That’s not happening.

Tank wanders up behind me, tossing several packs of shredded cheese into the cart.

“I don’t think anything can ruffle that woman’s feathers,” he laughs. “I’ve never in my life met someone so positive about everything.”

“I don’t think one exists,” Abby says.

For the next ten minutes, I follow behind Abby and Riley as they grab everything needed for tacos.

“She should have been back by now,” I grunt.

Riley glances over her shoulder. “She probably got caught stocking something or helping another shopper. It’s a grocery store, Bones, not a war zone.”

“You’d be surprised,” I mutter, scanning the end of the aisle like some threat might leap out from the endcap of canned beans.

“Relax, man,” Tank says, elbowing me like I’m just being dramatic. “She’s a big girl. Sweet, yeah. But she’s not glass.”

---