Page 23 of The Illicit Play
Shit.
Spotting his name tag, I try to hide my reaction when I notice that he’s the store manager.
Shit, shit, shit!
You’re busted.
This has never happened to me before. The thrill ofnearly getting caught is what I’ve been craving. Notactuallygetting caught.
Forcing a smile that better be fucking innocent, I veer to move around him, but he darts into my path, barking in a voice that will alert the whole fucking store, “I don’t think so, lady! Give me back that nail polish!”
CHAPTER 8
GRADY
“The nail polish!” someone shouts again. “I saw you take it!”
I glance over my shoulder but can’t see whoever the store manager is yelling at.
I was just in here restocking my first-aid supplies for my upcoming hiking trip when I noticed the guy storm past me, muttering under his breath.
Then he started shouting, and it’s oh so clear.
Shoplifting little punks.
I shake my head, irritated by stupid people who think they have a right to just take stuff they don’t deserve.
Nail polish?
That’s not a necessity.
I can get over someone shoplifting food or feminine products or something like that. It’s not right, but I get it.
Nail polish, though?
Give me a fucking break.
“You did take it! I saw you on camera!”
The woman’s voice rises a little to match his. “I don’tknow what you’re talking about. Yes, I was looking at the polishes, but that’s it.”
Wait.
I go still, my hand poised in the air above the box of Band-Aids.
I know that voice.
Swiveling left, I head down the aisle, my lips parting when I spot the back of Blake’s head.
And I should know what it looks like, because every time she’s passed me in the house and I’ve desperately tried to ignore her… yeah, I’ve turned back to drink her in, to let my gaze travel down those stunning blonde curls and across the curve of her perfect ass.
Shit, I’m a creeper.
But I can’t seem to stop myself.
I should be getting a fucking trophy for the fact that I’ve been avoiding contact all week. I’ll graduate to not checking her out next week… after I’ve stopped this asshole manager from yelling at her.
“Everything okay over here?” I step forward, keeping my voice low and calm. The manager looks at me, and I smile. “Hey, Kevin.”
