Wolf: Under Your Skin

Chapter 4

I had not expected to see him again so soon.

This was also because my excuse to my mom had been so convincing. I had explained to her that Josh was an acquaintance of Audrey's who had kindly given me a ride home. Audrey always provided a useful alibi in that regard—she knew lots of people because she went out so much. My mom lost interest in the stranger in the car almost instantly.

Josh may have said he would visit Harrison Sports, but people said a lot of things to end conversations pleasantly. I didn't get my hopes up, because all this seemed simply too unrealistic. A stranger I met twice by chance and who would buy a pair of shoes to see me again?

I had to admit that something about him fascinated me. Not only his eyes, but also his attentive, cautious manner. However, I didn't even know how many years older he was or if he had a girlfriend. So I did what any women's magazine in the country would have advised me to do: I decided not to think about him any further.

When Josh appeared in the sports shop a week later, I could hardly believe my eyes.

I was in the process of building a pyramid of tennis ball packages, but they were proving to be more than stubborn. That day I must have been especially lacking in skill, because the pyramid either kept collapsing or it stood too crooked and seemed to chase away the customers rather than invite them. Even Mr. Harrison noticed when my structure toppled and asked from the storage room if I needed help. It was so dark in there that his face floated in the air like a will-o'-the-wisp. I always wondered how he saw anything at all under the dim old lamp.

"No thanks," I called back, not wanting to trouble him any further. "Just tripped."

While I hurried to catch the parcels rolling away, the doors opened behind me. I gave the customer a glance—the same one I always gave customers—and when Josh's gaze and my gaze met, something sparked between them. The sudden heat was so intense that I reflexively turned my head away and dropped the tennis balls again.

I couldn't believe it.

He had obviously not been to the hairdresser for a while, because his black hair stuck out rebelliously. It was long enough to fall a little into his forehead, but that probably suited him much better than a normal brush cut would. My gaze flitted over his jeans, the dark shirt, and the sleeveless vest he wore over it. Then, embarrassed, I turned back to my task.

Josh stopped.

"Oh." He'd just noticed the rolling tennis balls. "Let me help you."

It was the worst thing he could have done. Instead of showing him, as a long-established cashier, how professional I was in my little job, I stumbled over the goods and let him pick them up. My face had to be bright red. Fortunately, Josh didn't notice, or maybe he was just polite.

"Thank you," I said after he had collected all the surrounding parcels and placed them on the edge. "I can do the rest myself."

"You're welcome." His voice was light, but his smile was open and warm. And although I tried to fight it with every fiber of my body, my heart suddenly began to beat faster.

Damn.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, while stacking the packages cautiously. I didn't care anymore what the result looked like.

He seemed a bit confused.

"I told you I needed shoes," he reminded me with a grin. "Well, here I am."

"Oh." Now I was the one who made that surprised sound. I couldn't hide my astonishment. Did he really mean it? "The sale shelf is back there."

My hand pointed mechanically over his shoulder and to the left wall of the shop. "Shall I advise you?"