“Thanks for that,” I say, taking a sip of my water bottle once I have a second.
Jolene waves me off. “No problem. That type of thing will happen here and there.”
All of a sudden, when Jolene looks past me, her smile turns from pleasant and friendly into an icy glare that could freeze fire. I turn around to see what could possibly inspire such a hostile look.
There's a woman about Jolene's age sifting through bags of chips at the end of an aisle, and I wonder if maybe they're fighting or something. I watch the woman for a moment, trying to see if there's any reciprocation of the clear hatred coming from Jolene. But the woman is happy in her own little world, searching for the right choice of flavor.
I'm still watching her when a guy comes into view, approaching my register. Even though he's wearing a hoodie, you can see that he's got some thick arms and wide shoulders underneath. His jeans sit low on his hips and fit snug against muscular thighs. When not covered, I bet that his body is the type that women would drool over.
It's not like I'm searching for a new guy right now or anything, but I could definitely enjoy spending time staring at him. My body certainly likes what it sees. His focus is down, and his hood is up, so I can't quite see his eyes. But I can see his nicely defined jaw, and it's covered in a couple days' worth of scruff. A muscle moves as if he's clenching or grinding his teeth.
Dirty blond hair peeks out from under his hood, and despite his more rough appearance, the strands look really soft. I have the weirdest desire to reach up and feel it for myself.
All the guys I've dated in the past have beenpretty, never with a hair out of place. And they either wore suits or polo shirts with slacks. I realize now that I much prefer the more manly look, and I decide he's going to be my new eye candy.
Disappointment sneaks its way in like an unwelcome guest when I think of the possibility that he could just be passing through town, though.
He walks up and places his items down in front of me.
“Hello.” I smile at him, but he's not even looking at me to see it.
Over his shoulder, I notice Jolene hasn't returned to stacking the shelves yet, but is there, staring daggers through the back of the head of the guy who is in front of me. Okay, I guess she definitely isn't fighting with that woman, and this guy mustn't just be passing through town.
The way Jolene is glaring at him is like he's deeply offended her or something. I wonder what he could have possibly done to get on her bad side? She seems like such an easy-going person.
Maybe if I get him to speak, I'll find out that he's one of those douchey guys where nothing but shit comes out of their mouth, and you wish they'd never spoken.
“I'm Remi. I'm new in town.”
Nothing. No acknowledgment. Just a shift of his feet. Well, I guess that's kind of asshole-ish behavior.
“Would you like a bag?”
A barely-there shake of the head is all the response I get. Well, if this is how he usually behaves, then I can see why Jolene might not like him. I happen to like surly, gruff people, though. I enjoy getting under their skin to see what's going on. There's almost always a reason for it.
And who knows, maybe he's just having a bad day? I've had plenty of those myself.
I total all of his items and give him the amount. “Are you sure you don't want any bags?” I ask while he pulls out his wallet. “It seems like a lot to carry.”
The guy doesn't answer again,but passes me the cash.
Okay then.
“Here's your change. Have a good afternoon,” I say in my sweetest voice. Sometimes layering on kindness is one way to get to them.
I watch as he starts picking up his packages and piles them onto one arm. And I seriously think this guy needs a bag. So with one hand, I pick up his box of cereal while my other opens a bag, intending to put the cereal into it. But before I get the chance to do it, the box is being ripped out of my hand, and the guy is walking out of the store.
“Uh, okay, see ya,” I mumble to myself.
Jolene is still frowning after him when I turn my attention back to her, and then to my complete surprise, she spitsat him. Not the actual spit with saliva, but the sound and action of it.
At my shocked face, she walks over to stand next to me. “You stay away from that man.” She turns her head back toward the entrance. “He's on that sex offender's list. You know, that registry.”
“What? Really?”
I join Jolene in looking out toward the man, who, up until a few minutes ago, I thought was simply a handsome jerk. Now I'm not so sure what to think. Registered sex offender? I mean, that could be for a number of things, I guess, so maybe it's not as bad as I think.
But Jolene's reaction and the look on her face kind of suggests otherwise, though.