Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 103918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
"No," I said. "But my friend went to get one more item. Some wound cream from aisle seven," I added. I knew I was rambling a bit, because surely the kid didn't care what item I was waiting for.
"Aisle seven?" the kid said.
Then another voice, that of an older man, said, "I’d better go look for him." He sounded exasperated. "That boy done lived here most of his life. Stanley Goldfinch told me last week that he saw Mouse lingering in that aisle. That boy’s up to no good, I tell ya. He knows aisle seven ain’t where we keep the creams."
"It's not?" I asked in surprise. I wasn't sure who the guy was, but he spoke with an air of authority. And he clearly knew Gideon. Maybe Gideon had just gotten the aisle number wrong when he’d mentioned that he’d been looking at Merv's for cream a week earlier.
"No, aisle seven is where we keep—" the kid began to say, but then the older man coughed loudly.
"It's where we keep the napkins for the ladies. And other unmentionables," the older man said in a near whisper.
I must've looked as confused as I felt because the kid said, "Grandpa's talking about tampons and condoms."
"Kenny!" the older man yelled.
"What?" the kid asked. "They don't call them napkins and unmentionables anymore, Grandpa Merv. I suppose you could call them rubbers—"
I tuned out the arguing pair as I considered what Gideon had said. He’d specifically told me aisle seven was where the creams were, but he’d obviously lied about that. The question was, why? I supposed he could have been embarrassed about buying feminine products for a woman in his life. But my gut was telling me that hadn’t been the section of aisle seven he’d been looking at.
Which left the condom section.
All the pleasure I'd experienced during the foray into town with Gideon got sucked out at once and I felt a little dizzy as I realized what Gideon's perusal of aisle seven really meant. The knowledge that he was having sex with someone shouldn't have been a surprise, and maybe it wasn't exactly. But it was damn disappointing, even though it probably shouldn't have been.
So much for not letting my emotions get too wrapped up in the sexy man who’d come to my rescue more than once already.
The man I was now firmly entrenched in the friend zone with.
Great.
Chapter Twelve
Gideon
"You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good," Lex murmured. "Just a little tired."
I knew he was lying. I just didn't know if I should call him on it. When we’d been checking out, he'd been smiling and his cheeks had been flushed with color, proof of his excitement. He’d clearly seen his journey through the grocery store as a win, but something had happened from the time I'd gone to get the antibiotic cream to when I’d gotten back and all the items had been bagged up.
I’d thought maybe Kenny had said something to upset Lex, but when he’d said goodbye to Lex, I hadn't heard anything to hint that there had been any kind of confrontation between them. Merv had been standing nearby as well, but I hadn't seen any evidence of him saying something to Lex either because Lex had bid him farewell too.
Which left me as the culprit.
I tried to think back to anything I'd said or done that might have upset him. "Lex, I only went to get the cream because I knew it would be faster. I didn't mean to insinuate that you couldn't do it."
I glanced at Lex as I drove, but he didn't look at me when he responded. "I'm not upset about the cream. Honestly, Gideon, I'm just tired. I guess besides being just really bad, Merv's coffee must've been decaf."
I knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but his voice was so flat that there was no way he could've pulled it off. "Yeah, that's probably what it is," I said.
Unlike the drive into town, the drive home was done in absolute silence. When we got back to Lex's cabin, I helped him inside and then unloaded the groceries. "Is there some way you want them sorted?" I asked.
I half expected him to tell me he didn't need my help, but to my surprise he just said, "No, it doesn't really matter." Then he turned his back on me and disappeared into the living room, leaving me to put the groceries away. I worked quickly to organize them in both the refrigerator and the cabinets, making a mental note to myself to research how blind people handled situations like these. I assumed maybe they used labels with braille on them to keep track of where things were, but surely there were some people out there who were in the early stages like Lex and had figured out workarounds so they could still live somewhat independently.