Page 36 of What Hurts Us

And his ass.

And his face.

But that was it.

The tips of his fingers grazed my lower back as we crossed the parking lot and walked into a big box store whose sign teased the provision of everything home-related and beyond.

“Are we getting enough to warrant a cart?” I asked when Cal went for the corral.

He cocked an eyebrow. “It’s a buggy.”

“It’s ashopping cart.”

I snorted and grabbed the handle, but he swatted my hand away. “No, ma’am. I’ve got it.”

It was thema’amthat made me squeeze my thighs together. “Be straight with me, Fletcher. You just want to push the cart to keep the weight off your leg.”

Callum scowled, and that made me just the littlest bit happy.

“Oh my God!”

Cal didn’t get a chance to retort because a pile of Dolly Parton-worthy blonde hair collided with him.

Inch-long acrylic nails in Barbie pink grappled at the back of his shirt as orange arms snaked around his neck.

“Callum!” the Paris Hilton wannabe squealed. “Look at you! All out and about! I’m so glad you’re on your feet! My stars, you look miles better than when I brought dinner to your place. That casserole must have healing powers!”

Oh. My. God.

Cal spit out the chunk of blonde hair that had flown into his gaping mouth. “Brandie Jean,” he croaked in acknowledgment.

Brandie Jean Palmer in the flesh.I had seen her from a distance, but up close was… So much worse. Her lashes looked like spider legs, and I wondered if she had gotten them from a Halloween store.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met,” I said, extending my hand as I wedged between the two of them. “I’m Layla, Cal’s girlfriend.” I gave Brandie Jean the feminine smile that was half-sugar and half-cyanide.

“Girlfriend?” she squeaked.

Brandie didn’t move nearly far enough away for my liking, so I went all-in on the charade.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said as I dipped into Callum’s side, wrapping one arm low around his hips and sliding my other hand up his chest.Hot damn—his pectorals were enormous.They were probably as rock-hard as Brandie Jean’s fake boobs. Whisking away the thought of oversized implants, I turned my attention back to the human barnacle. “I don’t think Cal has mentioned you before.”

The comment landed because BJ looked like I’d punched her in the face. The implication was clear: she wasn’t important enough for Callum to have told me about her.Even though she was the whole reason Cal and I were out shopping for plates and bowls.

Brandie Jean quickly recovered. “Oh, Callum and I gowayback. Isn’t that right?” She tried to bat her eyelashes, but it looked more like two black snow shovels attached to her eyelids were trying to scrape away the silver glitter that stretched up to her eyebrows. “We dated.”

“One date,” Cal choked out, having seemingly recovered from his mental stroke. I pinched the back of his hip and slid my hand further up his chest.Get it together, man.

He must have read my mind because the next thing I knew, his arm was around my waist, anchoring me to his side.

I clicked my tongue in a ‘silly me’ kind of way. “That’s right—that little fundraiser for the Ladies Auxiliary.”

BJ’s smile was that of a wildcat baring its teeth. “Are you going to bid on Callum this year, Layla?” She turned her attention to him and giggled. “Because my checkbook has been burning a hole in my purse!” Narrowing her eyes at me, she said, “I’m a tough bidder, sweetie. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”

13

CALLUM

Layla lurched forward, but I kept a grip on her waist. I didn’t want to find myself in the middle of a catfight on aisle twelve.

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