Finding Our Reality (The Reality Duet #2)

The Skeptics Playbook - Chapter 1

MERIT

“You have the prettiest toes I’ve ever seen.”

The little girl loves my compliment and wiggles her blue painted toenails right under my nose.

Her mom sighs, shifting her toddler son higher on her hip. “Macy, don’t put your feet so close to Merit’s face.

“I was just letting her see my toes, Mommy.”

I secure the buckle on the white sandal and gently tickle Macy’s leg. “Alright, time to run and jump and twirl.”

Jumping from the seat, she immediately starts racing around the store, skipping and dancing. Carla, Macy’s mom, laughs. “This is her favorite part. She loves it when you say that.”

I smile, watching her play. “It was always my favorite part too.”

I call Macy back over and take a look at the fit, making sure the shoe is snug—but not too snug—with enough room to grow. Carla and Macy both agree with me; this white sandal is the winning pair. Boxing the losing shoes back up, I stack them out of the way and put Macy’s old sandals in the shoebox because she quickly informs me and Carla that she will be wearing her new shoes home. Grunting, I pop up from the floor.

Kyra has just finished checking someone out when I make it to the register. “You check them out, and I’ll fill out the card,” she offers. Pulling Macy’s index card from our handwritten database, she writes the name brand and size of the sandal, documenting today’s purchase. “Macy, what’s your favorite thing about your new shoes?” she asks.

Macy puckers her lips, giving it serious thought. “The insides are squishy. And I love the flower on the buckle.”

Kyra leans over the counter, checking out the flower. “Got it.” She enunciates the syllables slowly as she writes, “squishy and flower.”

After I run Carla’s credit card, I slide a couple of stickers and temporary tattoos in the bag before handing it over. Right then, the curious little boy in her arm reaches across and shoves a small container of paperclips with his chubby hand. My own hands aren’t quick enough to catch it, and it falls to the floor on my side of the register, sending paperclips everywhere.

“Oh no, Merit. I’m so sorry!”

I shrug. “Don’t worry about it, Carla. It’s no big deal, it’s just paperclips. I’ll pick them up.”

Her brow furrows. “Are you sure? I can help.”

Macy then tugs on Carla’s shirt. “C’mon, Mommy. Let’s go show Daddy my new shoes.”

I laugh and wave her on. “It’s fine. Y’all have a great night. I’ll see you next time.”

The door chimes as they walk out. Kyra starts picking up the few paperclips that are scattered across the counter, and I squat down, trying to rake all the paperclips on the ground into a pile. “Macy’s getting big.”

Kyra nods. “Yeah, her card shows her last shoes were bought just four months ago and she’s already gone up half a size.” When the door chimes with another customer coming in, she whispers under her breath. “Oh, shit.”

Her tone catches me off guard, scaring me. I quickly grab her shin, pinching her skin harder than reasonable. “What’s wrong?”

Oh, please don’t let us be getting robbed.

What if it’s a disgruntled customer? With a shiv?

What if it’s an IRS agent? Did I pay all my taxes?

She looks down at me, lifting her eyebrows. “I think this guy is the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen.” Then, she grunts, “And, ouch, by the way.” She kicks my hand away.

Sighing in relief, I roll my eyes. “He’s gonna hear you.”

She shakes her head. “They stopped to look at the sales rack next to the door.”

One by one, I poke the clips back into their container. I giggle, making myself snort.

She nudges me in the butt with her foot. “What?”

“I was just thinking that we really need to discuss what classifies as an ‘oh shit’ moment. Dropping your keys in a porta potty? That’s an ‘oh shit’ moment. Literally. Catching your panties in the zipper of your shorts? That’s an ‘oh shit’ moment. Dropping your chewing gum in the open casket of your neighbor’s dead mother? That’s an ‘oh shit’ moment. Seeing a sexy man?” I jump up from the carpeted floor. My hair tangles around me, shrouding my face. Spitting a strand from my mouth, I fling it out of my eyes and spin around, finishing my thought. “That’s not an ‘oh shit’ moment.”

My heart drops into my stomach.

Standing in front of me, with a drop-dead sexy smirk etched across his face, is the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen.

Kyra covers her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle her laugh. Slamming the paperclip container in her hand, I scowl at her, telling her through best friend telekinesis that I’m not amused.

“And I assume all those things happened to you?”

His voice coats my eardrums in honey. The low timbre sends a chill down my spine. It’s something I haven’t felt in a long time. A very long time. And in all honesty, I don’t even know if it’s a welcome feeling. I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. “Pardon?”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Keys in the porta potty? Gum in the casket?” His tongue darts out, licking his lips, “Panties in the zipper?”

Oh, shit. The way he just said the word panties…

A bright red blush creeps across my face. I can feel it. Burning me, scalding my skin. I glance down, pretending to wipe something from the counter. “I apologize for my words, sir. That was very unprofessional of me.” Squaring my shoulders, I glance up, forcing myself to look into his eyes. “May I help you with something? Are you looking for something in particular?”

He cocks his head to the side, studying me. He doesn’t know what to make of my apology, I guess.

He really is gorgeous. Achingly gorgeous.

He’s really tall. Built. Firm and muscular. His light blond hair is styled short but still long enough to see the thick waves, just begging to be touched. His eyes are the brightest, most intense shade of blue—they almost look fake.

Azure.

I think they call the color azure.

And the color is even more offset by his tanned skin and the spattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

My fingers itch to count those freckles, itch to trace the lines of his face and playfully tug on the two-shade darker facial hair lining his square jaw.

He smiles.

A knowing smile, a smile that says… that’s right .

I think he can read my mind.

He drags his hand across his face, rubbing his fingertips across his lips and chin. The thick cord of muscle in his forearm jumps, twisting with the motion.

Somewhere behind him, someone makes a sound. A whiny moan. He shifts to the side, and for the first time, I see who he’s with.

A fake blonde with fake boobs, fake eyelashes, and a fake tan. And she’s wearing a short, tight dress that would definitely look more at home in a Vegas nightclub than a children’s shoe and clothing store. I look down at my own tank top, linen shorts, and tennis shoes, before glancing back to her. I think her ass may be fake too. Butt implants?

So, he’s one of those .

Like Edward.

Reaching out she wraps her hand around his and lays her head against his shoulder. Well, against his elbow, really. She’s super short compared to him. Her voice grates against my brain. “Are you finished?”

What a stupid question.

Does he look finished?

He hasn’t even started yet.

“Give me just a few minutes, Bonnie.” He nods to the row of chairs in front of the back wall of shoes and big screen TV. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

I watch her sashay across the floor and seductively sit down. I don’t know who she’s trying to seduce. There’s just me, him, and Kyra. Me and Kyra are straight. And he’s already with her so I’m pretty sure that means he’s a sure thing.

I tug my tank top away from my sweaty body. When did it get so hot in here? I clear my throat, asking him the same question as before. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

His eyes scan my body, making me nervous and self-conscious. After what feels like a century, he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a folded piece of paper, and hands it to me. “I’m here for this.”

I’m very careful to avoid touching him.

Looking at the paper, I read the name of the shoe, style, and size. Biting my lip, I frown. “I’m very sorry, sir, but I only have one left in that size and it’s being saved for someone.”

He smiles again. It makes my body feel restless. “I know. For me.” He shrugs, “Well, I mean for Anna.”

My mouth falls open in shock. “You’re Will? Anna’s dad?” Immediately my eyes dart to the fake woman named Bonnie. I can’t believe he would step out on Raylee, aka his wife . She’s so nice. How dare he?

Fucking cheater.

His laugh churns anger in the pit of my stomach.

“Will’s my brother-in-law. I’m Raylee’s brother, Holt.” He tosses a look over his shoulder to his girlfriend. “But I’m glad to know that you’re so protective of my sister.”

How does he know what I was thinking? Can he read my mind? “Pardon?” I feign innocence.

“It’s pretty clear what you were thinking. You wear your emotions all over your face.”

Well, that’s the first time anyone has said that in a very long time. A stranger, I mean. Kyra sees the real me, of course, but she’s my friend. Edward always preferred that I keep things civil. Calm. Monotone. He wanted me to be more mild-mannered. Growing up, I was pretty high-strung so it took a lot of training for me to become someone with a polite and stoic face.

Coming to my rescue, Kyra reaches across the counter, introducing herself with a handshake.

He politely nods. “Holt Hill.”

Holt Hill. That name sounds familiar.

I guess Raylee or Anna have mentioned him before.

I walk away from the counter, using that as my excuse to avoid shaking his hand. “I’ll just grab those shoes from the back.”

“I’ll be happy to get them, Merit,” Kyra offers.

I shake my head. “No. I put them on the top shelf. I’ll get them.” The safety-angle rolling ladder broke last week. A new one won’t be arriving until sometime next week. In the meantime, we’re having to use an old wooden ladder that I borrowed from the maintenance guy at my condo complex. There’s no way I’m having an employee climb on it. The last thing I need is a workman’s comp claim.

Kyra rolls her eyes. “Yeah, and that’s what we really need. You climbing up shelves.”

I glare at her, pinning her in place with my death stare. Well, I assume it’s my death stare. It doesn’t seem to faze her, though.

Holt is behind me. I don’t have to turn around to know it. I can feel him. It’s like his body gives off an electricity, a current. It slices through the air and penetrates my nerve-endings. It’s been so long since I’ve been around someone attractive. My body is having a visceral reaction without my consent.

If I got out more, this wouldn’t be happening.

But what’s the point?

I don’t wanna go out. I’m happy with my life.

His voice stops me in my tracks. “Is that Singin’ in the Rain ?”

I turn around, watching him point to the movie playing across the big screen TV. It’s one of the best scenes—The Make ‘Em Laugh sequence with Donald O’Conner. “Yes, it is.”

“I’ve never seen it all the way through. My cousin, Ella, loves it.”

My heart stops beating. Sacrilege. Utter sacrilege. Trying to wipe the shock from my face, I fold my hands in front of me and politely nod. “You should really take the time to watch it. It’s a classic.” Despite my best efforts to keep my emotions locked away, I make the mistake of glancing back up at the screen. Unable to contain myself, I laugh.

And snort.

Holy shit. I can’t believe I just snorted.

Cocking his hands on his hips, Holt chuckles, watching me.

Bonnie smacks her lips, interrupting whatever moment we’re having. “Old movies make no sense. They’re outdated. I like the Fast and Furious movies.”

It takes all my strength not to throw her out of my store. “Let me get Anna’s shoes,” I say, retreating around the corner to the back.

I make a quick detour to the bathroom. Flipping on the switch, I study my image in the mirror. Same as every day. Store shirt and comfortable shorts. Although, I do wear leggings when it’s cold. My normal makeup routine consists of tinted moisturizer, mascara, and lip gloss. Apparently, the makeup companies toss around the word ‘tinted’ very loosely because it’s doing nothing to conceal the flushed embarrassment etched across my cheeks. Berating myself for getting swept away by this guy’s good looks and charm, I make a pact to get him out of my store as quickly as possible.

Positioning the ladder, I climb up the rungs, carefully balancing myself at the top. Somehow, the box has gotten pushed back and I’m struggling to reach it with my fingertips. I’ll be so glad when the safety-angle gets here.

Right as my hand wraps around the box, a voice startles me, making me jump. The hard cardboard edge of the shoebox hits me in the tender skin underneath my right eye and then clatters to floor. The unexpected impact, makes my foot slip off the ladder. My vision blurs with a nano-second injection of adrenaline, and I brace myself for a painful fall on the floor, praying I don’t break anything.

But I don’t fall. Onto the floor, that is.

Instead, I fall straight into the arms of the handsome Holt Hill.

It takes several seconds for us both to realize exactly what happened.

“Oh, shit! I’m sorry, I was just coming to see if you needed help. She said your ladder was broken.” He scans my face. I’m not sure if he’s reading my emotions again or searching for injuries. “Are you okay? It looks like you hit your eye.”

See, that was an appropriate ‘oh shit’ moment.

I can’t breathe. His body is literally pressed right against mine and I can’t breathe. It’s been two years since I’ve been this close to a man, and it’s confusing my brain.

Confusing my soul.

Confusing every single cell in my body.

I glance down at our tangle of arms and legs. Both of my hands are resting on top of his shoulders. He has one arm snaked around my back and the other is underneath my left knee, propping my leg up against his waist.

Like we’re dirty dancing. Or like I’m about to jump on him and wrap both my legs around him.

That thought makes my mouth dry.

My feet dangle in the air. My heart pounds in my chest.

“Are you okay?” he asks me again.

Looking up, I stare into his deep blue eyes, struggling to find the right words. Eventually, I settle on the first thing that comes to mind. “You can put me down.”

The movement of his calloused hand against the bare skin of my leg stirs a heat low in my stomach. He sets me on the ground but doesn’t release me from his grasp. We’re so close, I can see the small crow’s feet lining the side of his brow. He smells like soap and peppermint. The collar of his pale blue T-shirt is frayed, adding to his boyish, innocent charm.

But he can’t be all that innocent.

He’s holding me.

While his girlfriend is sitting in the other room.

Lifting my chin, I clear my throat, trying to regain our professional boundaries. “I’ll be out with the shoes in just a moment. You should head back out to your girlfriend, Bonnie.” I say her name, reminding him of his responsibilities.

One corner of his mouth tilts up. “Her name isn’t Bonnie. You heard wrong.” He inches closer. His breath whispers across my face, tickling the back of my throat. “It’s Bunny.”

My brow furrows and I frown. “Like a rabbit?”

His laugh surprises me. It almost seems genuine. Almost seems real. “Yeah.”

“Merit?” The second I hear Kyra’s voice, I push away.

His arms fall to his side and an inexplicable shot of emptiness pierces my heart. In stunned silence, he looks down at his hands, like he honestly can’t believe he was wrapped in an embrace with me for that long.

I try not to let that hurt my feelings.

Kyra peers around the corner of the shelving rack. “Y’all okay back here? I thought I heard something.”

“Everything is fine. Kyra, can you please show Mr. Hill back to the front? Mr. Hill, I believe these shoes are for Anna’s birthday, correct? I’ll be happy wrap them for you.”

His face grows solemn and he bites his lip. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Nodding, I smile brightly. It’s the same smile I always used at the work parties I had to attend with Edward. “Lovely. I’ll be out momentarily.”

Running his hand through his hair, he follows Kyra back out to the front of the store.

I can’t believe she let him come back here in the first place. She may be my friend—the best one I’ve got—but she’s also my employee; and we will definitely be having a conversation about this later. We only let customers back here in the event of an emergency. A parent with a four-year-old who is about to pee his pants kind of emergency.

Call me stupid, but I definitely think Holt Hill can hold his pee until he gets home.

I wrap the shoebox with purple tie-dye paper and decorate it with yellow and purple bows. When I make it back out front, Bunny is playing on her cell phone and Kyra is showing some of the new sleeveless tops to Holt. I pretend not to notice him watching me. His gaze is different now than it was. It’s softer, gentler. Not as… reckless.

I suppose he feels bad for… well, for doing whatever he was doing with me in the back.

And he should feel bad. It’s pretty brazen to have your arms wrapped around a stranger while your girlfriend is patiently waiting on you to buy a birthday present for your niece.

I pull Anna’s card from our database and write down the shoe information. “Will there be anything else, sir?”

His squints his eyes. I don’t think he likes me calling him sir. “I was thinking of getting her something else too. Something to go with the shoes. This shirt, maybe?”

“When is her birthday?”

“Tomorrow. I’m leaving from here to go to her party. We’re having it a day early.”

“Tomorrow?” I glance down at the card, searching for the information. We keep track of all the kids’ birthdays. “You’re right.”

That makes him laugh. “I should hope I’m right. Or else, I had a three-layer pink velvet cake delivered to my house for no reason.”

Kyra folds her arms across her chest. “The party is at your house?”

He shrugs, “We always do family get-togethers at my house or my cousin’s house. We have the most room.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I can call Raylee to see what size she wears.”

“There’s no need to do that.” I wave the card in his direction. “I keep track of the kids’ sizes.”

“You do?”

I nod, telling Kyra the size. She searches the rack and pulls one down. I come around the counter and quickly grab it from her. Not wanting to be left alone with Holt and Bunny, I don’t give her the option of offering to wrap the new present herself. Plus, I want to add something special of my own to it, a little present from me to Anna. I keep a plethora of gifts for just such an occasion.

When I finally make it back out front, Holt and Kyra are standing by the register making small talk. And Bunny? Well, she’s standing in front of the full-length mirror, attempting to try on a cardigan.

Is she a moron?

This is a children’s store. All we have are child-size clothes.

Normally, I’d call someone out for this. She might rip it or stretch it beyond repair. But I keep my mouth shut because I just want them out of my store as soon as possible. This whole visit has been very unnerving for some odd reason.

“Kyra, will you ring everything up, please?” I grab a bag from underneath the counter and slide the wrapped gifts inside.

He places his hand on top of the bag. “I need something else too.”

I purse my lips in frustration. How much stuff is this guy gonna buy? Can’t he just leave?

I must make a face because he lifts his eyebrow at my reaction. Taking a deep breath, I force that fake smile to my face again. “How else can I assist you?”

He nods to the small bookshelf of trinkets to my side. “Are those bookmarks?”

“Yes, sir.”

Again, with the squinty eyes. It almost makes me laugh.

Almost.

He points at one. “I’ll take a pink one.”

I shake my head. “Anna’s favorite color is purple.” I pat the shoebox. “Like the trim on her new shoes.”

“I know. This isn’t for Anna. It’s for someone else.”

“Who? Another niece?” Why am I engaging him in conversation?

He tosses his head back and forth. “For lack of better words.”

Tired of waiting, Bunny finally makes her presence known with another whiny moan. “Seriously, Holt? How long does it take to buy one silly pair of shoes?”

Tossing the bookmark in the bag, I bump Kyra with my hip and take over checking him out. He barely has time to slide his credit card back in his wallet before I’m pushing the bag into his hands. “Thanks so much for coming. Come back anytime.”

Or not.

I’m glad Anna’s birthday is only one time a year.

He cocks his head to the side, and then he winks at me.

Really? I can’t decide if he’s a heartthrob or an asshole.

And then, for no apparent reason, he laughs.

Seriously, I think he can read my mind.

To be continued in…

The Skeptic’s Playbook: The Skeptic’s Duet Book One

Coming Early 2025!