town, this was where they came. Aunt Carol called it the “toilet paper and Spam” collection, and she wasn’t all that wrong, though there were also chips, and cookies, and a few boxes of cereal, some canned goods, and a small section of staples such as salt and sugar and pepper. One aisle was dedicated to over-the-counter meds, bandages, and feminine products. The small floor-to-ceiling cooler in the back was filled with beer, soft drinks, and juice. She’d carried milk for a while, but it hadn’t sold well enough to justify the necessary space. When it came to pricing, she couldn’t compete with the bigger grocery stores in town, and the dairy sell-by dates came and went too quickly. Now she kept a few packs of powdered milk and some cans of condensed sweetened milk that sold mostly in the summer when people were making homemade ice cream.
Between the locals and the tourists, who either stayed in Wears Valley or passed by on their way to and from Pigeon Forge or Gatlinburg, she stayed busy enough to make this small venture profitable. She’d never own a private jet or buy her own vacation home, but she did okay, and okay was good enough.
Carol said Sela liked her small business because it was safe, and again, she wasn’t wrong.
Taking chances, both personally and professionally, was for people who liked an adrenaline rush. Sela wasn’t one of those people.
A big gray pickup truck, riding high on its chassis, pulled up to one of the gas pumps. She recognized a lot of the locals’ vehicles, including this one. Ben Jernigan didn’t come in all that often, though he did stop for gas now and then, and he’d run in for beer and cereal a time or two—but she recognized him because it was impossible to ignore him. Both the truck and the man were impressive, he more than the truck. He was big, at least a couple of inches over six feet, with muscles that strained the cotton T-shirt he wore. His arms were thick and roped, decorated with a few tattoos, his hands scarred and callused. Usually he was somewhat scruffy, with at least two days’ growth of beard. He almost always wore sunglasses, though he’d slide them up on top of his head whenever he came inside, and his pale green eyes always had a remote, cool expression that cut like a laser. She tried to be friendly with her customers even though she wasn’t an outgoing person, but with him she couldn’t manage even that much. She stayed quiet, like a rabbit hoping the wolf didn’t notice her.
She didn’t like tattoos, but she couldn’t imagine his arms without them. She was vaguely alarmed that she’d given his arms that much thought.
Whenever he came in, her heart pounded hard and fast for at least a few minutes after he’d left. Rabbit, indeed.
She watched as he left the truck and headed for the gas pump, but then he stopped and looked toward the store. Sela quickly glanced down, though she doubted he could see her through the reflection on the glass; she still didn’t want to take the chance that he’d think she was watching him, even though she was. Bold had never been a word used to describe her.
He left the gas pump and started toward the store.
Right on schedule, Sela’s heart started pounding. She concentrated on the invoices on the counter in front of her, even though she wanted to look at him. What woman wouldn’t? She was definitely a woman, even if not a very adventurous one.
The chime sounded, and he walked past her without a word. She wanted to ask him why he hadn’t pumped any gas but had left his truck at the pump, but she didn’t. Only after he’d walked by did she look up, quickly glancing at his muscled back covered by a brown T-shirt, and while she was at it also noticing how well his muscular ass cheeks filled out his jeans. Her cheeks got hot and she returned her attention to the invoices, fiercely focusing on them, or trying to, anyway.
Her thoughts raced, refusing to concentrate on the invoices. He’d picked up one of the baskets on his way in, which was unusual. He never bought much, certainly not so much that he couldn’t carry it in his two big hands.
Damn. Was her mouth watering? It was! The realization flummoxed her. If she was in the market for a man, which she definitely