Slim Jim and the Lotto Girl

Chapter Six

"I'll be right back." Emmett didn't even look up from his phone as I walked past the sales desk on my way toward the door. Apparently my new attitude had given me more freedom in his eyes.

"Grab me a Butterfinger," he called as I pushed through the door. I waved without looking back, mentally calculating how much he would owe me when I returned.

The annoying bells jingled as I yanked open the door to the 7-Eleven, but I didn't cringe this time. I was excited they announced my arrival and was looking forward to seeing my Lotto Girl. Weaving past the wire rack holding novelty sunglasses, I headed toward the front counter. Though I may have looked confidant on the outside, the moment I saw her standing in front of the register, my heart started racing wildly.

"How's it hanging, Slim?"

"Slightly to the left and rigid at the moment," I sputtered, and then flushed scarlet, mortified that those words had left my mouth. My attempt at humor must have actually hit its mark, because Lotto Girl's face broke out into a brilliant smile. I walked up to the counter, pushing my hips against the glass front, trying to diminish said rigidity.

"You back for another ticket?" she asked as she leaned over the glass surface and stared up into my face. I was surprised at how I seemed to tower over her. In our previous interactions, I'd observed I only had a few inches of height on her. But today, I seemed like a giant next to her slight frame.

"As you predicted, I didn't not win with the ticket I purchased yesterday," I replied, setting my sweaty palms down on the counter, as close to hers as I dared.

"The next drawing isn't until Wednesday," she informed me as she slid her hands slightly closer to mine, her skin squeaking against the glass with the movement. I swallowed convulsively.

"Well then," I said, absurdly excited when my voice only wavered a little, "I'll have to come up with another reason to come see you every day."

"Oh, Slim," she whispered, her eyes achingly sad as they met mine, "you're going to break my heart."

"What? No I won't, I swear," I stammered, fear making my words harsh. My hands reached out to cover hers without even realizing it. She smiled as she tangled our fingers together on top of the counter. Her eyes were downcast, locked on our joined hands.

"You're not going to mean it, of course," she sighed. "It's just inevitable."

"Inevitability is a load of bullshit," I growled, leaning down so I could catch her gaze.

"I didn't think you knew any curse words," she chuckled, but her laughter was half-hearted.

"I know lots of curse words. In several different languages," I teased, trying to get a real smile from her. "Would you like to hear them?"

"Ah, Slim," she giggled, tightening her fingers on mine for a moment before she slipped her hands from my grip. "How about you save the multi-lingual cursing for our date."

"Our date?"

*()*()*

"I told you the pheromones would work!" Carlisle's voice was loud through the phone and I pulled it away from my abused ear with a sigh.

"Yes, oh smart one, it seems you were correct," I conceded, "but that won't help me later tonight when I have to actually interact with her in public!"

"It's going to be fine," he soothed, "here's what you're going to do..." I could hear the hiss of a lighter in the background, and once more I regretted ever seeking advice from my drug-addled life coach.

*()*()*

Standing at the rear door of the 7-eleven, I took a deep breath and tugged at the hem of my new t-shirt. Carlisle had forced me to use my lunch hour to shop for a new outfit. Apparently, even thinking about going on a date in my work clothes was a strike against me. I had no idea if he was keeping track of said strikes, but I was pretty sure I didn't want to find out. I was marched into an Abercrombie and Fitch, under protest, and forced to plunk down nearly $200 on a t-shirt, a pair of jeans and some uncomfortable boxer briefs. Why I couldn't just wear my industrial strength briefs was beyond me.

"Now make sure you keep eye contact to a minimum. Don't look at her face, look at her tits. Girls like it when you stare at their goods."

I jotted down Carlisle's advice in a little moleskin notebook, though I couldn't really believe a woman would rather me stare at her breasts instead of her expressive eyes.

"Don't offer to pay for her," he grunted as he flopped down in my chair and stacked his feet one over the other on top of my desk. I tried to hide my irritation as I pulled a stack of work orders from beneath his dirty shoes. "And no matter what, do not try and kiss her."

"What if she makes a move toward engaging my lips with her?" I asked, even though I was almost certain that would never happen.

"You kiss her cheek," Carlisle sighed as he folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. I waited for more of an explanation, but the only thing I heard from my illustrious life coach were the deep bellows of his snoring.

Now—all on my own, I reached for the handle of the door with a confidence I didn't feel. Before my fingers could wrap around the metal latch, the door was yanked open, causing me to stumble forward. I put my hands out to stop my downward motion, only to have my fingers collide with Lotto Girls' barely contained breasts.

"Oh, merde!"

"What language was that, Slim?" Bella cooed as she placed her hands over mine. I could feel the rough texture of her lace bra beneath the thin cotton of her shirt.

"French," I whispered, too distracted by the perfect mounds of flesh in my palms to realize how inappropriate my actions were.

"Are you going to just hold my tits all night or are we going to get something to eat? Cause I'm fine either way, but I'd like to grab a Cliff bar if we're not gonna eat dinner."

A/N: um...oops! Sorry for the delay. At least the reason for my delay is good news and not tragic.

You know how we always read about love at first sight and a whirlwind romance?

It does exist.

Exactly 25 days ago I had a blind date. Yesterday we put an offer in on a five bedroom house. He loves all of my girls as if they are his own.

So yeah...man of my dreams.

Forgive me for the lack of updates?

MWAH!

KK