chest, Peacock was realizing who “Mo, the ex” was.
“Let’s move on, Tam, yeah?” the boyfriend said, and I figured he did this because he had the gift of sight and this conversation had taken a turn he did not want within reaching distance of Mo.
Tammy’s eyes were full of regret when she looked up at Mo. “Mo, I—”
“You honest to fuck wanna do this in a King Soopers?” Mo asked.
“No, she doesn’t,” the boyfriend answered hurriedly.
“Well, I wanna do it in King Soopers,” I snapped.
All eyes came to me, even, I felt, Mo’s.
“Are you high?” I demanded to know from Tammy.
“Lottie,” Mo muttered, that arm around me tightening, or more like squeezing.
Even with the real danger of him dislocating my shoulder, I glared at Tammy.
“You walked right up to him and said, ‘hey,’ after you cheated on him. Who does that?” I asked.
She looked to her cart and muttered, “Maybe we should just—”
I stepped out from under Mo’s arm and stood in front of her cart, cutting her off by ordering, “No, bitch, answer me. Who does that?”
I felt Mo’s fingers curl into the back waistband of my jeans and he probably had to stoop real low because I also heard right in my ear, “Lottie—”
But I had Tammy’s attention again.
And her squinty eyes.
“Did you just call me a bitch?” she asked.
“Yeah, bitch, I called you bitch,” I answered. Then I shrieked, “You cheated on Mo!”
Yeah, I shrieked.
But what was the matter with her?
“Fucking hell,” I heard Mo murmur just as I felt my jeans get tight at the waistband since he jerked me back by using just that.
I whipped my head around then cranked it to look up at him and yelled, “Let go of me, Mo!”
“Lottie, cool it,” he commanded.
“Fuck cool!” I shouted. “She cheated on you then walked right up to you at a King Soopers and said, ‘hey!’”
“I don’t care,” Mo told me.
“I care!” I yelled.
“How can you care if I don’t care?” he asked, his face sharing genuine curiosity.
“She said ‘hey!’” I screeched.
“Is there a problem here?”
Mo turned, and since he still had his fingers in my jeans, I was pulled around to see a woman standing there wearing a King Soopers apron with a nametag on it that said Rhonda with the word Manager under it.
“Yes, Rhonda, there’s a problem,” I informed her. “She,” I swung a pointed finger to Tammy, “cheated on him,” I jerked a thumb over my shoulder to Mo, “with him.” I finished this pointing in the direction of the boyfriend.
Rhonda looked between Mo and the boyfriend, cast her judgment openly through her expression (that’s what I’m talkin’ about!) and was looking disbelievingly at Tammy when I carried on.
“Then she just strolled up to him. No! To us! Right here in the aisle and said, ‘hey.’”
Rhonda’s brows shot up at me and she looked again at Tammy.
“You said, ‘hey?’” Rhonda asked.
“We’d really just like to move along,” the boyfriend shared with Rhonda.
Rhonda again looked between Mo and the boyfriend before she told the boyfriend, “I think that’s a good idea.”
“Yeah, move along,” I called after them as the boyfriend grabbed the cart, did a tight turn, and hustled down the aisle. “And you get near Mo again, Tammy, I’ll tear your hair out.”
Tammy turned, mouthed fuck you to me…
And then it happened.
Mo was a big guy.
Normally, Mo did not move like Mikhail Baryshnikov and definitely not like Usain Bolt.
But I learned when the man wanted to move, he moved.
I knew this when one second, he was at my back, holding onto my jeans, and the next second, he was five feet down the aisle, in front of Tammy, cutting off her retreat. He was also bent at the waist, hands to his hips, right in her face.
“No,” he growled.
That was it.
Though that word rumbled down the aisle like a rock slide.
Tammy stood with her back to me, completely immobile for a second, then she did a wide side step and practically ran down the aisle.
“Keep ahold a’ that one, sistah,” Rhonda murmured to me. Then called to Mo, “We good, big man?”
“Yup,” he grunted, moseying back to me, again moving cumbersomely, each step powerfully swaying his hips in a masculine cadence that made my mouth water.
What those hips could do between my legs I could not contemplate or I’d have an orgasm in King Soopers.
Right.
It appeared it was high time to take a moment to reflect.
I’d just acted demented in a freaking King Soopers of all places.
I wasn’t fond of