Read Breene, K F - Jessica Brodie Diaries 01 for Free Online Page A

was, I wasn’t in L.A. ,
and I had no idea where another shop was. They weren’t on every corner in this
neck of the woods.
    Red-beehive-lady clutched my arm as
I struggled out of the pile. Embarrassed laughter bubbled up as I beheld the
mess. I scanned the ground for my handbag, disbelieving that one person, me,
could make this much chaos. It was a gift.
    “Honey, you took a tumble!”
Beehive-Lady said, peering into my face. “Here, come over here and have a seat.
Are you sure you’re okay?”
    Her face held nothing but concern.
She gestured me around the store to a small bench seat, urging me to follow. In
shock, wondering why she wasn't pissed, I took two steps, carried away by her
concern. It took logic to still my feet.
    Why the hell wasn’t she mad? I’d
just rumbled through and blasted a stand of dog food! I’d interrupted a quiet
evening at the shop with pandemonium. Why wasn’t she yelling?
    The brown haired guy was picking up
the dog food, but making quick, worried glances in my direction. He wore the
same mask of alarm, concerned I would fall over at any minute.
    I went back to looking for my
handbag, waving away Beehive-Lady as best I could, saying, “No, no. Oh my God,
really, I’m fine. I am just ridiculously clumsy and totally ridiculous! Sorry
for the mess! Really!”
    Where the hell was my damn purse? I
had taken the tumble in the doorway, but it wasn’t there. That brown-haired
fellow was more than halfway done stacking bags, uncovering nothing on the
shiny white floor.
    “You don’t worry yourself about no
mess,” Beehive lady said, shuffling into sight again. She squinted into my
face, probably anxious to see if I had a concussion. Apparently only a deranged
moron wouldn’t rest for a second after ruining the whole front walkway of a
store. “Ronnie will have that dealt with in a jiffy. C’mon’ere and have a seat.
You sure yer not hurt? I haven’t seen a tumble like that off the football field
in I don’t know how long!”
    “Oh, ha! No,” I said distractedly,
franticly searching for my bag and its contents. “I’m good, seriously. Just so
sorry for the mess!”
    I took a step around Beehive-Lady,
scanning the sidewalk outside the store, ready to bolt, when the Greek God
Apollo himself stepped through with my handbag in hand, a devastatingly
handsome half-smile filled with mischief lighting up his face. Those eyes
didn’t have to say hello to have me. Mr. McGuire wasn’t this good on his best
day.
    “I’m sorry, ma’am.” He tried for a
concerned look after a quick glance at Ronnie and Beehive-Lady, but only
managed a handsome farcical look instead. “I’m sorry to have startled you. I
believe this is yours?” He reached out with my purse.
    Must-pull-eyes-away.
    God he was so beautiful.
    NO-PULL-EYES-AWAY!
    I managed to look down at my purse
long enough to get my hand on it. It was bigger and fuller than I was used to,
because I shoved a bunch of little bits in there when I was moving, and Apollo
must’ve had muscles of steel to make the weight seem nonexistent, so when I
thought I had hold of it, it plummeted toward the ground.
    In his eagerness to help me, Mr.
Apollo took a big step toward me, snatching the bag with lightning fast hands
before it could spill onto the floor. I was acutely aware of his musty man
smell. It wasn’t a clean, fresh out of the shower smell, but like a man that
was working outside all day. Eau d’Homme. Not BO or anything, but pure Man. I liked Man. Especially gorgeous, sexy man...
    My groin burst into flame. A
million points of lava erupted across my skin; the heat of him so close, the
smell of him, the man-ness of him. I was panting. I couldn’t help a tiny moan
escaping my lips before he stepped away nonchalantly.
    My God woman, get a grip! This was
all going downhill so fast I had skid marks! I needed to get the hell out of
there. Away from him.
    But I didn’t want to.
    But I had to! I looked like a
mental patient. No hot guy would