Serenity Falls(26)

“Mmm-hmm. Snickers ice cream bars.”

“That’s it?”

“I like to dip it in peanut butter, first.” Now it’s my turn to shrug.

“No offense, but that sounds gross.”

“Hey! Don’t knock it until you try it. And I could say the same thing about you and your cream filling.” I shove him sideways casually.

His eyebrows raise and a sly smile plays on his face. “My cream filling huh?” Mortified. That’s the only way to describe what I feel right now. My face burns with embarrassment. I refuse to respond to his question. When we reach the shopping carts, Wes pulls one out of the rack and looks at me expectantly. He nods his head toward the empty buggy. “Get in.”

Without hesitation, I hop in and sit cross-legged, while he pushes. I smell him before I hear him. “Hold on tight, we’re about to fly through this store,” he whispers in my ear.

My hands fly to the sides of the buggy and grip the cold metal. A smile blooms on my face when my hair flies back as we go sailing up and down the aisles. Mothers with children look at us as though we’re setting a bad example. Young couples catcall as we coast by them. The elderly give us that look that says I-remember-what-it-was-like-to-be-young. Just as we turn down an aisle flooded with boxes of cereal, a man steps directly in our path. His uniform consists of navy blue dress pants and a red vest with a nametag that I can’t read. He stands with his arms crossed over his chest, as if daring us to continue towards him.

“Hold on tight,” Wes calls from behind me. My hands fly up to cover my eyes when I feel the cart lean. A gasp of shock escapes; my hands spring away from my face, and grip the edges of the cart as I was instructed to do in the first place. My eyes pop open when the basket lands with a loud thud, upright, in the front of the store. Before I know what’s happening, I’m thrown over Wes’ shoulder for the second time today as he hauls ass out of the store.

“What’s going on?” I ask, reeling from what just happened.

“That dude looked like he was about to call the cops.” Wes pants in between breaths.

My hands dig into his lower back as I try to push myself up to see if the store attendant is coming after us. When there’s no sign of him, I say, “But we didn’t get your Oreos.”

A faint beep sounds from behind me when we come to an abrupt halt. Before I know it, I’m tossed into the passenger side of the truck, and the door slams beside me. I reach over and fasten my seatbelt as Wes jumps in and starts the truck. The tires squeal as we back out and make our hasty escape from Dale’s. Only the sound of Wes’ heavy breathing fills the cab until I break into uncontrollable laughter. My eyes water, I can’t catch my breath, my stomach cramps, and this ridiculous smile won’t leave my face. “Why are you laughing?” he asks.

I’m laughing so hard that I couldn’t answer him if I tried.

After a few minutes, my laughter dies down and gives me the reprieve I need. I look at him. Really look at him—at Wes. My eyes are drawn to how the sunlight beams off his sandy blond hair, giving me a glimpse of the different shades of reds and browns that mix within the blond, his deep tan that can only be perfected by good genetics, and those captivating blue eyes that hold me hostage when he looks at me. “Thank you,” I say whole-heartedly.

“For what?” He looks between the road and me.

“I haven’t had that much fun in a long time. Actually, I haven’t laughed this hard in a long time. So, thank you.” I lean my head back on the headrest facing him.

With a smile of his own, he replies, “Anytime.”

I don’t know how it happened, but Wes has gotten to me, and I think I might have a new addiction soon.

“Do you mind if I take a quick detour? I still want those damn Oreos.”

I give a soft chuckle. “No, go ahead. I’m just gonna rest my eyes real quick.” A yawn escapes me, as my eyelids grow heavy.





My arms seem heavy, but my body feels warm—content. I snuggle into the warmth beneath me, only to feel something hard and unyielding. As my eyes flutter open, all I see is blue, a blue shirt, and blue eyes. That’s when I remember that I fell asleep in the truck. One arm supports my back, and I can feel the rippled muscles bulge, while the other stays firmly tucked under my legs. I wiggle and try to jump out of Wes’ hold. “It’s okay. You fell asleep. I was only carrying you inside,” he says, holding me tighter to him.

“Why didn’t you just wake me up?” I give up on my struggle because he’s obviously not going to put me down.

“I tried, but you wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t just leave you in the truck.”