Free Digitalis by Ronie Kendig Page B

pricked Colton’s conscience. “I’ve been in that store once a week for eight months—except while we’re out on missions, of course—and I still can’t answer that question.”
    “Dude,” Max said with a laugh. “I know you’re uptight-methodical in lining up a target, but this is obscene—
take
the shot.”

    Take the shot. What did Max know? He had a wife and a kid, had things good and right. Of course, they were good and right because Max had taken the time to fix things.
    Well, Colton’s life wasn’t messed up from his lack of trying. But the flashbacks had a way of dropping in on him the way a B-2 dropped its payload on unsuspecting terrorists. Coupled with his skills and big bird flying high over enemy territory, the method was effective. Unlike every prayer, counseling session, and attempt to straighten out his mind.
    It was time to stop hiding.
    He adjusted his Stetson, stretched his neck, and strode into Hastings. How pathetic that he had every aisle memorized. Knew the sales ladies for every department. It was wrong. Just plain wrong. A man ought not to know that stuff. If it hadn’t been for his mother asking for that perfume last Christmas, he wouldn’t be here. And he wouldn’t have met Piper. That bottle had sealed his fate.
    A woman he’d seen before at the counter with Piper walked toward him—and recognition lit her ebony face. “Afternoon. Are you finding everything okay?” she asked with a little more curiosity than usual.
    He tipped his hat, mumbled a “just fine, thank you,” and kept moving, afraid that if he’d let anyone stop him full on, he’d never get his nerves—or his feet—working again.
    As he rounded the corner, he darted a glance to the Maxximum Girl counter. There! Bending toward the illuminated displays, Piper reached under the glass top. She angled her body to reach farther into the cabinet—and her gaze slid right into his.
    He’d swear he felt the impact. It had slowed him.
    Lips slightly parted, she straightened as he approached. “Colton.” She locked the display and placed her hands on the glass. With a coy smile she asked, “Have you lost McKenna again?”
    He wasn’t sure if her humor made it easier or harder to get on with this. “No, actually, she’s with my parents visiting family in Texas right now.” Heart thrumming, he glanced around—and spotted a couple of sales ladies watching. Dawg. “You busy tonight?”
    Wow, that had a certain … idiocy to it. And a heaping dose of desperation. Not exactly the way to woo a woman. Where was all his southern charm? He yanked off his hat. “Sorry. What I meant to say—”
    “Then you’re not here for more towels?” The playful tone in her words and the way she cocked her head to the side told him she wasn’t going to make this easy.
    It was time to own up, come clean. Stop hiding behind towels and perfumes. “No,” he said, firm and certain. At least something in him was. The other parts screamed this could be his biggest mistake ever.
Get on with it!
    “You get off at six, right?”
    Amusement danced across her face. “You know my schedule?”
    Could this go any worse? But no more hiding, so … “Darlin’, I don’t think there’s a thing about you I don’t know.”
    Piper blinked and squared her shoulders. “Yes, I get off at six.”
    Here goes nothing… or everything
. “I’d like to take you out.”
    “Where?”
    “To dinner.”
    “Why?”
    What on earth …? “What do you mean?”
    “I—” She lowered her head and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I was just wondering why, after all this time, you finally decide to ask me out.”
    All this time
. … She’d been waiting. For him. To ask her out. His heart stumbled over the grenade-like revelation. He traced the band of his Stetson, hating that he didn’t have an answer. At least not one that wouldn’t make him sound like a big fat chicken. “Does it matter?”
    A small smile teased the edges of