Mr. Big
Page 26
I gasp in horror as I imagine my name being called over the speaker next.
Clean up in aisle five because Big Sexy smiled at Julia Rominger and she did the sample girl equivalent of pissing her pants.
I wouldn’t put it past She-Hulk to do something like that.
Then Big Sexy would know my real name instead of how he was probably thinking of me right now: that creepy girl staring at me and making a fool out of herself.
Thankfully, after some serious arm flailing, I’m able to catch myself on the table and right both it and myself before I land on my ass. Heart thundering, legs trembling, face flaming more than a virgin on The Bachelor when a camera zooms in for that oh-so-perfect first kiss, I suck in several breaths.
I refuse to glance over at Big Sexy.
I comb a finger through my hair, a nervous habit I’ve been unable to break since I was a shy kid.
Then I can’t help myself. I turn back to face him.
And almost scream in surprise to find him standing right in front of me.
“Hello,” he says.
I blink, and feel my face going into another full, four-alarm blush.
“So what are you offering today?” he asks.
“I’m sorry?”
“Chicken wings, huh?” He inspects the package and remnants of sauce in the slow cooker.
“Um, yeah. I just ran out, but I can…” He waits, as if he’s actually interested in an alternative to not having a chicken wing. “Well, I can go get some more?”
He nods. “Go ahead,” he says. “I don’t mind waiting.”
“Are you sure?” I ask him.
“I’m sure.”
As I walk around my table, he shifts and our arms brush. I tremble at the contact, and I tremble some more when I catch a whiff of his scent—something spicy with citrus accents that makes me want to moan, latch onto him, and lick him like an ice cream cone. Somehow I manage to walk several feet before I glance over my shoulder to make sure he hasn’t run off. He’s looking at a floral display near my stand, and I want to tell him I’ve got a flower he can inspect. But there’s no way he’d be interested in me. He’s not just out of my league—he’s so far out of my league we’re not even playing the same game.
I rush back to the employee restroom and check my hair. I don’t know why, but it has a tendency to fall flat at work. I want my golden hair to bounce. If it’s full of life, I look full of life, right? I run my hands through my hair, fluffing some oomph and volume back into it. My makeup is fine. I could use a little ChapStick or gloss, but I just wet my lips with water from the sink and dab them dry with a paper towel.
I adjust my work shirt to make sure it’s straight. I unbutton the top and pull it down to show off a little cleavage, give him a taste of my curves. Then, I shake my head at the grocery store sample girl staring back at me in the mirror. It’s no use. I’m as plain as they come. I also weigh quite a bit more than your typical size-eight twenty-something and have heard my share of remarks about fatties manning food sample stations. The last time I saw my mother, she’d advised me to cut back on the ice cream, which wasn’t the politest way to greet me given I’d spent the past two years taking care of her while she suffered through her cancer treatments. But she gave me life and I’m glad she’s doing so well. Even when she insists the number I see on the scale is double digits too high.
Doesn’t matter. I need to get back to my sample table before Big Sexy loses interest in the chicken wings. If he ends up leaving, I might never see him again. He could find another place to buy his vitamins tomorrow. He could decide he doesn’t want to chance running into the klutzy girl at Cooper’s again. Me? I just want the chance to talk to him a bit more.
He has a great voice and now that I’ve heard it, I’ll probably fantasize about all the things I wish he would say to me. Not asking if I have any chicken wings left to sample, but maybe…
You look beautiful today.
Damn, what a body.
You’re the best lay I ever had.
I grab a package of the wings and hurry back to the front where my samples stand is waiting, unattended.
He’s gone.
Of course he is.
I don’t know what I was thinking. I know better than to think someone like him, with his perfect face and body, could ever actually be interested in someone like me. Even so, I feel like I just lost my chance at something precious.
I adjust my shirt so that it’s a little more work appropriate and button it back up before anyone else sees me.
It’s time for me to go on break anyway. I can put the table away and sulk over a sandwich from the deli. I walk closer to the table and that’s when I notice Big Sexy didn’t leave after all.
Instead, he’s passed out on the floor.
Love stories you’ll never forget
By authors you’ll always remember
eOriginal Romance from Random House
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