Page 2 of Call My Bluff
The girl turned her head toward him as they walked, her eyebrows raised. “It’s breakup food, actually,” she said, and Noah’s ears perked up.
“Oh, really? I’m sorry. Do you need a hug?”
The girl rolled her eyes, her lips pursed, but Noah decided she was definitely laughing on the inside at least, thoughwith himorat himwas yet to be determined.
“It’s not for me, but nice try,” she said. “My roommate just had a nasty episode with her boyfriend, who I hope is a soon-to-be ex. Most of this is for her.”
Noah let out a low whistle. “Must have been pretty bad to need a hundred Pixy Stix and half the freezer section,” he said. He turned to look at the girl again and saw dark storm clouds pass across her face.
“Let’s just say I wouldn’t be opposed to castration with a rusty kitchen knife, should the opportunity arise,” she said dryly.
Noah barked out a surprised laugh. “Wow. You gonna do it yourself?” he asked, only half kidding. A girl’s willingness to maim a man seemed like something a guy should know from the beginning.
“I know people,” she answered darkly, and Noah made a mental note not to get on her bad side. She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a small key ring before pressing a button on the fob.
He heard the chirp of locks nearby, and the trunk of a dark-purple Mustang GT popped open. He surveyed the carwith a twinge of jealousy. “Nice ride,” he said as he brought the grocery cart to a stop. He slowly loaded the first of her bags into the trunk, certainly in no hurry to head back inside.
“Thanks,” she replied. She reached into one of the remaining grocery sacks and popped a hole in the package of Pixy Stix. Then she slid a red one away from the others before tearing off the end and dumping the powdered candy into her mouth.
Noah noticed a Cypress Valley State University parking sticker on the bottom corner of her back window, and he nodded toward it as he added a second bag to her load. “You go to CVSU? I don’t think I’ve seen you shop here before. What’s your name?”
“Yeah, I’m a senior, and I don’t, normally. But I was in the area, and my roommate is in desperate need of a sugar rush, so here I am,” she replied.
Noah loaded the last bag and reached up to close her trunk. “You didn’t tell me your name,” he pointed out, unwilling to let that omission slide. “If you don’t, I’ll just have to make something up.”
The girl turned away before popping open her driver’s side door and tossing her purse inside, but she didn’t climb in after it. Instead, she leaned one hip against the car’s frame and regarded him with something akin to curiosity. “Oh, really? And what would you make up for me?” she asked.
Noah thought hard, watching the way her eyes danced as she waited for an answer. His gaze flitted from her outfit to her car and back to the paper tube still in her hand. “Pixie,” he said, knowing the second it left his lips he’d never call her anything else. His chest expanded in triumph as a slow grin spread across her face.
The girl folded the now-empty candy wrapper between her fingers and laughed. It was a bright, musical sound, just as Noah had somehow known it would be, and he almost did a victory dance.
“I like it,” she said, taking a few backward steps. “Points for creativity, Grocery Boy.”
Noah moved away as she ducked into the driver’s seat and snapped her door shut. The pavement rumbled beneath his feet as the Mustang roared to life, and both her front windows rolled down to welcome the autumn air. A classic rock station blared from her speakers as she pulled a pair of aviator sunglasses from above the front visor and slipped them on, obscuring his view of her hazel eyes, though he could still feel her gaze on his skin.
“Good luck with your snake problem!” she shouted over the music. Then she waved as she put her car in reverse.
“Thanks,” he replied, unsure if she could even hear. The car pivoted past him and then shot from the lot, leaving him standing in a literal cloud of dust. He could hear the roar of her engine even after she’d driven out of sight, but it couldn’t erase the way her laughter still rang in his ears.
Noah could feel the wheels turning in his mind—which was usually what got him into trouble. She hadn’t told him her name, but that would only make the hunt more challenging.
And he had never backed down from a challenge.
2
Three weeks later,Olivia parked her car down the street from a sprawling ranch-style house and peered at the scene beyond her windshield. There were plastic folding tables along both sides of the paved driveway and across the front yard, all covered in teetering piles of miscellaneous junk.
She smiled, already feeling anticipation flooding her veins. There was something about a good garage sale that funneled her usual chaotic energy into a single, focused mission: to find that perfectsomething. Sometimes it was a vintage dress, sometimes a killer pair of barely worn heels, sometimes a fringed lamp that matched her curtains and accent rugs. She never knew what she was going to find, but the excitement of not knowing was half the fun.
Olivia climbed out of her car and tucked a folded wad of cash into the pocket of her jersey running shorts. The already-fallen leaves of a nearby oak tree crunched under her sneakers as she made her way along the curb and then turned up the driveway. The first table on her right held stacks of vinyl records, and shebegan to sort through them. She didn’t own a record player, but that wasn’t the point; the point was to hunt—and hunt she would.
Half an hour later, she’d worked her way up part of the driveway and across the lawn, snagging a framed piece of stained glass along the way. She was considering the merits of a purple soap dish shaped like a hippo when she finally sawit.
An overstuffed, emerald-colored love seat.
It wasperfect!—exactly the right pop of color for her neutral-heavy apartment.
She wandered purposefully through the last table displays, careful not to look too eager. Finally, she paused where the love seat waited at the mouth of the two-car garage, her head cocked to one side as if still deciding. In reality, she was already mentally rearranging her furniture.
