The store's quiet morning jingle filled my ears. Leaning into my palm, I relaxed against my register, fixated on the entrance doors that no one came through. Normally, I complained about slow mornings. Today, I used the turtle time clock to my advantage.

It'd been a week since I saw Reece, a week with his writer's advice. I admit, it worked. I got words written. Full chapters? Not really, but he had said that was normal. He believed the scattered scene writing would work for me. He said he knew I'd be able to connect the pieces like a puzzle once I figured out my who, what, where, when, and why.

My issue? To write, to put my character's face in my head, I thought of him. Reece. The hero in my story and my writing victories. Why? I didn't even know him.

"Pspsps, stand up." A hand quickly tapped my register's conveyor belt. I shot up, catching the exaggerated, perky, happy expression on Nancy's face. She cupped her hands together, slowly moving closer. "Joe's making his rounds."

Shit. Joe. Of course, our manager wanted to do rounds so early in the morning when nothing was happening. He acted like we needed to constantly sort boxes of snacks, rearrange and face candies, boxes, and bags. I was a cashier. I didn't have much to fix, but I couldn't say that to him. The one time I did, he told me, "Well leave your lane and fix the aisles close to you."

Yeah, and then I got written up for leaving my cashier lane unattended.

As Nancy stood in front of my register, I straightened and turned. Joe, with his white polo shirt and red manager name tag on his chest, approached us with a smile just as fake as ours. His clipboard of faux responsibilities hung on his arm. With his other hand, he tapped a pen against it. Before he even reached me, he cocked a brow and frowned.

Where did his smile go?

"I see you have nothing to do, Camila." He stood beside my lane and looked around. "Have you dusted, wiped, disinfected?"

The extra begins.

Keeping a polite face, I folded my hands in front of me. I looked at Nancy, she kept her 'smile,' too.

"I have," I lied. I mean, I'd done it the day before, but yesterday was as slow as ten turtles falling asleep in a race. The way I saw it, my lane was spotless. Still, I humored him; in case he was petty enough to look at security cameras. "But I can do it again if you like."

Joe's brows lifted. For such a short man, he made that expression so much, it should've given him some height. Sadly, it wouldn't. He'd stay forever at my eye level. "Well, I think if you've done that—"

Out of the corner of my eye, Nancy's face changed. The fake enthusiasm switched to shock. She even blushed. Covering her mouth, her eyes jumped from me to behind me.

I still focused on Joe, even though my mind told me to turn around.

"—I think you can step over to the cereal aisle and help unload the recent delivery."

I clenched my jaw. Why me? He had a whole team for that. I was sure some of them showed up if not all.

Clearing my throat, I was prepared to defend why I shouldn't leave, but a voice stopped me. "If she leaves, who's going to ring me up? Are you?"

It wasn't just any voice. Finally turning, I looked at Reece's face as he approached my lane. There was a box of mixed assortment tea in his hands.

Rather than focus on the chamomile, peppermint, and raspberry teas he placed on the conveyor belt, I was glued to him. He wasn't smiling. The way his jaw clenched, he looked both annoyed and concerned. The natural mean mug, the way his eyebrows pinched together, slightly shadowing his dark eyes, he looked dangerously sexy. My cheeks were on fire.

A kind, handsome, fearsome King.

"Oh, no, sir!" Joe's attitude immediately changed. He moved back, hugging his clipboard tight. With one arm, he motioned to my cashier lane. "Camila will be more than happy to ring you up, so please, step forward."

"Right, thank you." Reece's voice was deep and assertive. As he reached into his pocket for his wallet, he stepped closer, blocking Joe from my pane of view. But that was okay. I'd rather stare at Reece's broad chest and strong shoulders.

"Nancy, can you help me sort the bread and cereals?" Joe was so polite when he called Nancy to follow him. We locked eyes before she walked off. Of course, her eyes scanned Reece up and down before she waved at me.

I waved back. "Bye," I whispered.

Reece glanced back at her before looking back at me with the normal grin I'd seen on him. My stomach flipped again. I loved his dark and dangerous attitude, but his sweet, smooth, and cool demeanor had won me over first. But if I ever saw that other side of him again, I wouldn't be mad...

"I hated working retail." He opened his wallet and pulled out his debit card. "Managers forget what it's like to be a regular employee, then be expecting the most."

Here he was, spitting facts again.

Laughing, I wiped my forehead before reaching for his tea. I moved it over the scanner. Beep. "Oh, I know. He knows I'm here—" My register didn't recognize the barcode on the tea box. I scanned again. Beep. "—But he keeps pulling me away from my lane to do other things. It's ugh."

"Oh, I know," Reece laughed. "And because I knew he was being the most, I did what I did."

I dropped the box into a bag as I blinked at him. Did he put on his strong exterior to save me? Damn.

Tapping the enter key, I brought the final total to the screen. Normally, I'd announce it with a smile. Instead, I bit my lip, completely captivated by his actions that my romantic brain was probably making it bigger than it was meant to be.

Reece continued to look at me. He smirked before tapping his card against the card reader. "That's your friend, right?" he asked, motioning to Nancy who begrudgingly lifted boxes of Cheerios and Apple Jacks from their shipment.

"She is," I said. "I take it she's the girl you saw at the library, the one who grabbed the flyer?"

He hummed as he nodded, his debit card still hovering over the scanner. "She was. Came in a few times before actually taking one." He finally swiped his card.

I laughed. That sounded exactly like Nancy. I was sure she saw the contest flyer and thought of me. She could've second-guessed taking the paper, then continued to go back to talk herself into it, until she finally decided it was something she needed to do. That's how I should tackle this story. I've bounced back and forth enough, right?

"How's writing going?" he asked.

The question was sudden and perfectly matched my thoughts. "I wrote some." I pulled the bag up and placed it on the conveyor belt. "I'm waiting for, um, the chance to connect all the passages I wrote."

"Oh." The scanner beeped as it requested confirmation of his total. "You're writing in pieces like I said?"

I nodded.

He entered his PIN. "Can I read it?"

The world stopped. For a second, all I heard was the gentle beeps of the card reader. Four numbers. Enter. No cash back. Accept. While I listened to the commands, I stared at his face.

Could Reece be my muse? I worked my best after talking to him. It may have been scattered nonsense, but it could be connected eventually. I felt like it would, he made it feel possible. His enthusiasm for my story warmed every part of me.

"Um, sure." The transaction was completed. His receipt popped out of my register. I didn't look at it as I reached for it, grabbed it, and handed it to him. We focused on each other. "A fair warning, it's a jumbled mess."

Reece took the receipt. His fingers brushed over mine and I felt like he did that on purpose. His grin confirmed it. Would I complain? Hell no.

"That's okay." With a wink, he pocketed the small paper. "Sometimes jumbled messes are the best."

I blushed. My face burned. I knew he saw it. I wasn't pale, but I was sure my light tan skin was red, red, red.

"What time do you get off? We could meet at the library or the café?" He leaned against the conveyor belt, rubbing his chin. "Either place you pick; I'll have tea waiting."

He took the opportunity to ask to see my story. Or was it to see me? I wasn't going to turn this down. No way. The fact that he took a chance without hesitation was sexy. I liked that.

"I'm out at four. I can meet you at the library, unless it'll be busy then, um—"

"Nope." Reece excitedly slapped his hand against the belt and leaned back. He gave me two finger guns. Cheesy, but I giggled. "We'll meet at the library, I'll have tea, and a quiet room just for us."

My heart stopped. A quiet room? Just for us?

"Just ask Dolores for me when you get there." He grabbed his bagged tea and looked into my eyes. He slowly licked his lip as he chuckled.

"Yeah," I squeaked. "I'll be there."

As he walked backward toward the door, he never took his eyes off me. "I can't wait."

I watched him leave. I listened to the doors chime. The store's music suddenly hit my ears, and it was then I realized I hadn't heard the awful music while he was in front of me. All I heard was him. Could someone's aura block out sound?

Quick feet hurried in my direction. My eyes were glued to the door. A part of me wanted Reece to come back in.

"Girl." Nancy blocked my view, standing right beside my register. She leaned against it, chin on her arms as she looked at me with wide eyes. "That library guy just stood up for you. He's fucking hot!" She lowered her voice. "I need the deets and I need them now, 'cause girl, you are red."

My eyes slid over to her. "Am I?"

Nancy quickly nodded. "Girl, yes. So, tell me."

How I explain, in "deets," how the handsome, kind, helpful librarian seems to be extremely interested in a story he started to help me write; a story that is nowhere near completion or readable. And yet, he comes into the store, sees me, and is eager to look over my hot mess. How do I explain that? It can't just be my story. There's more, right? There's—

"Hey, hey." Nancy quickly snapped her fingers to grab my attention. "Come out of your daydreams and tell me your thoughts. I need to know." She blinked. "He looked very flirty while paying."

Okay, so that wasn't just me then. Nancy saw it, too.

I glanced at the clock on my register's screen, wishing it were four already. "He wants to read my story," I said, looking back at Nancy.

Her intrigued expression faded instantly. She looked bored. Jeez, there was more to it. She didn't see the look in his eyes or the smirk on his face. Yes, I wanted him to read my story, but I was also using his interest as an excuse to see him again. Was that so wrong of me?

"He wants to read your book." Nancy dropped her hand next to the register. "That's cool. I know that's important to you. So, what else is there? Just reading your book." She straightened and cocked a brow. "Based on the color of your face, there's more than just reading your stuff."

I bit my lip, tracing my finger over the conveyor belt. It moved on contact and quietly buzzed. "He says we'll be in a quiet room, just for ourselves."

Nancy's brows shot up again. "A quiet room?" She moved around my station to come closer. Her foot hit mine as she pressed into my cashier area to whisper, "Where's this room?"

I giggled. She was so curious. When she told me her stories, sure, I was into the details and wanted to know more. But Nancy was eager. Maybe it was because I never had anything to share. But really, we were going to read, nothing else. "At the library," I whispered back.

An older woman approached my lane with a basket in her hands. She smiled at Nancy and me before unloading her grocery items.

Nancy tugged at my hand to get me to look at her as she stepped back. Her brow was still lifted as a grin lifted the corner of her lips. "I know your artsy people are freaks—"

"Nancy!" I hissed, laughing, but trying not to make it obvious.

"—so go ahead to this library room. Just, you know," she shrugged, still grinning, "be safe and have fun."

Be safe and have fun. I heard everything she said in those words. Be safe during my adventure. Have fun with the fling of it all. But most importantly, be careful with myself and my heart. She had said it to me so many times before, I knew it without her speaking it.

"Nancy!" Joe's voice carried toward the front of the store. As she heard her name, Nancy rolled her eyes and grumbled. She didn't move, even as Joe's annoying manager's voice came again. "Nancy!"

"Go," I softly nudged her out of my station, "go have fun."

"Oh, whatever." Nancy sighed, narrowing her gaze. But as she walked away from my lane, she turned back quickly and pointed at me. "But text me."

I laughed and pointed back at her. "I got you."

The grocery items rolled up my conveyor belt, bumping into my elbow. I quickly looked back as the older woman approached, a warm smile on her face. She politely placed her basket in the holder beside her. "Hello," she said. "Do you 'got' me?"

I laughed again, but it was awkward this time. I knew the woman was making a joke, but I had her waiting a minute. That was rude.

"Sorry, ma'am." I reached for her loaf of bread. "I got you. Welcome."