Free Burn by Crystal Hubbard Page A

young . . . relatively.”
    “Girl,” Zae said, warning in her tone.
    Cinder laughed.
    “It’s good to see you smile again,” Zae said, her own brightening.
    “I’ll say.”
    Cinder turned, Zae looking over her shoulder, to see who had spoken.
    “Good afternoon, ladies,” Gian said. His eyes on Cinder, he added, “I’m with Zae on this. It really is good to see you smile.”
    I n two months of training her, she hadn’t cracked so much as a grin. Now her smile, lovely as it was, seemed permanent as the heat of a blush gave her face new radi ance. This was the first time in weeks that he’d seen her in something other than a gi , and he spent a moment studying her.
    The voluminous jacket and pants of her gi hid the elegantly sleek muscles of her arms and the fuller, more defined muscles of her legs, all of which were on display in her pale sleeveless top, denim cut-offs, and high espadrilles. He’d noticed the subtle changes in her face that had come with her hard work at Sheng Li and a healthy weight gain. No longer gaunt, her cheeks were sensuously plump. Her eyes appeared vibrant and relaxed rather than sunken and wary.
    The sadness she carried with her remained, but it only added to her mystery, her beauty. Chip’s revelation, that he thought Cinder had an interest in him, had fertilized the seed that had been planted the first time he had seen her. Standing in front of the meat counter at Freddie’s Market, Gian’s feelings for Cinder began to bloom.
    “What can I get for you, Mrs. Richardson?” the butcher asked, a wide smile beneath his thick white mus tache. “I’ve got slab bacon on sale.”
    “I’ll take three pounds,” Zae said.
    Cinder nudged her.
    “Make that five,” Zae amended.
    “Someone’s having a big breakfast in the morning,” the butcher exclaimed, tearing off a sizeable piece of white paper from the roll behind the counter.
    “ It’s this one here.” Zae bumped Cinder with her hip. “She could live off bacon.”
    The butcher winked at Cinder. “Is that so?”
    Gian hung his shopping basket over his right arm so he could stand closer to Cinder to hear her answer.
    “Bacon is proof of God’s existence.” Cinder’s placid tone contradicted the passion of her words. “If there was bacon juice, I’d drink it. If there was bacon perfume, I’d wear it. I wish there was such a thing as bacon ice cream. If—”
    “See what I mean,” Zae interrupted.
    “What other foods do you like?” Gian asked Cinder.
    “Donuts,” she and Zae answered together. “LaMar’s vanilla long johns are my favorite,” Cinder told him. “Mine, too,” Gian said.
    Zae stepped around Cinder to face Gian. “She once put three strips of bacon on top of a LaMar’s long john and ate it like an entree.”
    “I’ll have to add that to my recipe collection.” Gian chuckled.
    “Me, too,” the butcher said and laughed.
    Zae took her massive package of bacon from the top of the counter and asked for bone-in chicken breasts and lamb chops. Cinder peered into Gian’s basket. Then she looked at his face. “This is what you live on?”
    “Sure.” He shrugged one shoulder.
    Cinder inventoried his selections. “HoHos, Cool Whip, Velveeta—”
    “Velveeta is great for nachos,” Gian said defensively.
    “It’s great for sealing cracks in your bathroom tile, too,” Zae muttered.
    “How do you stay in such great shape eating stuff like this?” Cinder wondered.
    Gian patted his abdomen. “You think I’m in great shape?”
    Her blush deepened, but she maintained eye contact with him. “Yes. I do.”
    It was Gian’s turn to blush, and he dropped his chin in a weak attempt to hide it.
    “Gian?”
    The high-pitched, nasal squawk came from a tall, skinny woman in white low-rider shorts and a plaid halter. She exited the dairy section and headed straight for Gian. “Well, hey, what brings your hot buns into this neck of the woods?” The woman grasped the handle of her shopping basket in