Free Single in Suburbia by Wendy Wax

buns,” Brooke groaned.
    There was more laughter.
    It was then that the synapses in Amanda’s brain fired and made the connection. Or at least something did. Later she wouldn’t know what possessed her, but at the moment the thought seemed a completely logical progression of everything that had come before. “Pull into that Kroger,” she directed Brooke, “and let me run in. I think Rob deserves to see at least one of the things he’s taken away from me. I’m going to buy every single condom I can get my hands on and whether they inflate or not, I’m going to hang them on the tree in front of his town house. It’ll be a little reminder gift from me to him.”

 

    chapter 7
    T rying not to weave too noticeably, Amanda walked through the grocery store past the office supplies to the pharmacy and closed in on the rack of condoms. Without stopping to analyze their features or to contemplate whether ribbing and/or mint flavoring, did, in fact, increase pleasure, she pulled all thirty-odd boxes from their holders and dropped them into her basket.
    Buoyed by the soft haze of alcohol, she pushed her booty back to the front of the store and wheeled into the checkout lane. A few moments later, she’d piled the lot of them onto the conveyor.
    “Wow.” The male voice behind her was deep and laced with laughter. “It looks like you’re taking the ‘be prepared’ credo awfully seriously.”
    Amanda turned and looked up into a pair of clearly amused green eyes.
    “Think you have enough there?”
    Amanda contemplated the man in front of her. He was well over six feet and had an interestingly craggy face. It took her alcohol-deadened brain a little longer than it might have otherwise to register the wide shoulders and rock-hard build.
    Normally, she would have blushed and stammered and searched for some sort of plausible explanation like a children’s science project or some novel cleaning technique.
    But he was looking at her in a way she hadn’t been looked at in years and it was a balm to her unappreciated and completely rejected soul.
    “Gee.” She found herself teasing back. “I don’t know. Maybe I should run and pick up a few more.”
    His smile grew wider.
    She smiled back. “Unfortunately this purchase is not exactly what it seems.”
    “No, I’m sure it’s not.” He was clearly trying not to laugh. “Because that would be way too good to be true.”
    He winked at her then. God, he was yummy. And she was fairly certain it wasn’t just the alcohol that was saying so.
    “Are you ready, ma’am?”
    With real regret, Amanda turned her back on the stranger and stepped up to the register.
    The checkout girl blushed as she scanned each box of condoms and slid it down to the bag boy who also blushed each time he dropped a box into the waiting grocery sack.
    Amanda barely noticed. She was much too busy basking in the green-eyed stranger’s attention and congratulating herself on her boldness so far.
    She wished she had the nerve to give him her name and number. Or at least the wit to exit with a truly racy comment that he’d remember long after she’d gone.
    Unable to do either, she reached for her bags and prepared to depart. Once again, his voice reached her from behind. It was deep and casually masculine with that truly attractive hint of laughter.
    “You’re not going to leave without telling me what they’re for?” he asked.
    She turned then and smiled—a full wattage affair that showed each and every one of her pearly whites to full advantage. And then, because she’d definitely had too much to drink and because the occasion seemed to demand it, she turned her voice all husky and growly, like a modern day Mae West. “I am stunned that you don’t know what they’re for by now, big boy,” she purred as she turned to leave. “I only wish I had the time tonight to show you.”
      
    Amanda woke Saturday morning to complete quiet. Slightly, but not unbearably hungover due, she was sure, to the