“Plants?”
For some reason, it didn’t sound as though he was asking me a question, but I rushed to answer anyway. “Yeah, see, there’s this flower bed in front—”
He said nothing, just cocked a brow with disdain. “Okay.”
The embarrassment was fading, replaced by a growing surge of anger. “Well, see, I need to go buy plants—”
“For the flower bed. I got that.” He leaned his hip against the doorframe and crossed his arms. Something glittered in his green eyes. Not anger, but something else.
I took a deep breath. If this dude cut me off one more time…My voice took on the tone my mother used when I was younger and was playing with sharp objects. “I’d like to find a store where I can buy groceries and plants.”
“You are aware this town has only one stoplight, right?” Both eyebrows were raised to his hairline now as if he were questioning how I could be so dumb, and that’s when I realized what I saw sparkling in his eyes. He was laughing at me with a healthy dose of condescension.
For a moment, all I could do was stare at him. He was probably the hottest guy I’d ever seen in real life, and he was a total douche. Go figure. “You know, all I wanted was directions. This is obviously a bad time.” One side of his lips curled up. “Anytime is a bad time for you to come knocking on my door, kid.”
“Kid?” I repeated, eyes widening.
A dark, mocking eyebrow arched again. I was starting to hate that brow.
“I’m not a kid. I’m seventeen.”
“Is that so?” He blinked. “You look like you’re twelve. No. Maybe thirteen, but my sister has this doll that kinda reminds me of you. All big-eyed and vacant.”
I reminded him of a doll? A vacant doll? Warmth burned in my chest, spreading up my throat. “Yeah, wow. Sorry to bother you. I won’t be knocking on your door again. Trust me.” I started to turn, leaving before I caved to the rampant desire to slam my fists into his face. Or cry.
“Hey,” he called out.
I stopped on the bottom step but refused to turn around and let him see how upset I was. “What?”
“You get on Route 2 and turn onto U.S. 220 North, not South. Takes you into Petersburg.” He let out an irritated breath, as if he were doing me a huge favor. “The Foodland is right in town. You can’t miss it. Well, maybe you could. There’s a hardware store next door, I think. They should have things that go in the ground.”
“Thanks,” I muttered and added under my breath, “Douchebag.”
He laughed, deep and throaty. “Now that’s not very ladylike, Kittycat.”
I whipped around. “Don’t ever call me that,” I snapped.
“It’s better than calling someone a douchebag, isn’t it?” He pushed out the door. “This has been a stimulating visit. I’ll cherish it for a long time to come.”
Okay. That was it. “You know, you’re right. How wrong of me to call you a douchebag. Because a douchebag is too nice of a word for you,” I said, smiling sweetly. “You’re a dickhead.”
“A dickhead?” he repeated. “How charming.”
I flipped him off.
He laughed again and bent his head. A mess of waves fell forward, nearly obscuring his intense green eyes. “Very civilized, Kitten. I’m sure you have a wild array of interesting names and gestures for me, but not interested.” I did have a lot more I could say and do, but I gathered my dignity, pivoted, and stomped back over to my house, not giving him the pleasure of seeing how truly pissed I was. I’d always avoided confrontation in the past, but this guy was flipping my bitch switch like nothing else. When I reached my car, I yanked open the door.
“See you later, Kitten!” he called out, laughing as he slammed the front door.
Tears of anger and embarrassment burnt my eyes. I shoved the keys into the ignition and threw the car into reverse. ‘Make an effort,’ Mom had said. That’s what happens when you make an effort.
Chapter 2
It took the entire drive into Petersburg for me to calm down. Even then there was still a hot mix of anger and humiliation swirling inside me. What the heck was wrong with him? I thought people in small towns were supposed to be nice, not act like the son of Satan.
I found Main Street with no problem, which literally seemed to be the main street. There was the Grant County Library on Mount View, and I reminded myself I needed to get a library card. Grocery store options were limited. Foodland, which actually read FOO LAND, brought to you by the missing letter D, was where Douchebag had said it would be.
The front windows were plastered with a missing person’s picture of a girl about my age with long dark hair and laughing eyes. The data below said she’d last been seen over a year ago. There was a reward, but after she’d been missing for that long, I doubted the reward would ever be claimed. Saddened by that thought, I headed inside.
I was a speed shopper, wasting no time strolling aisles. Throwing items into the cart, I realized I’d need more than I thought since we only had the bare necessities at home. Soon, my cart was filled to the rim.
“Katy?”
Lost in thought, I jumped at the soft female voice and dropped a carton of eggs on the floor. “Crap.”
“Oh! I am so sorry! I startled you. I do that a lot.” Tan arms shot out and she picked up the carton and placed it back on the shelf. She grabbed another one and held it in her slender hands. “These won’t be cracked.” I lifted my gaze from the egg carnage slowly oozing bright yolks all over the linoleum floor and was momentarily stunned. My first impression of the girl was that she was too beautiful to be standing in a grocery store with a carton of eggs in her hand.