Authors: Cal Matthews
The man pushing the cart and I did the awkward ‘
scuse me, no, ‘scuse me
dance around each other. Laughing, the other guy finally hauled his cart to one side and gestured me through.
“Happy holidays!” he called after me as I made my get-away. I waved over my shoulder, already peering down the tampon and shampoo aisles. Nope, nope.
Oh, there he was, just past the dental care items, triumphantly holding up a small, colorful box.
“That’s not a vibrator,” I said as I joined him.
“Personal massager,” he corrected and tapped the box with an index finger. “’Hand-held
precision
massager’,” he read aloud. “That means vibrator.”
I scoffed and took the box from him, turning it in my hands. It certainly looked… phallic. And orange.
“Want to get one?” Leo asked, waggling his eyebrows.
“Leo, I’m not buying Dahlia a fucking vibrator. Pardon me, a
personal massager
.”
“No,” he said, taking the box back from me and setting it in the cart. “For us, idiot.”
“Oh,” I said, my cheeks growing warm. He grinned at me and swayed in, touching his hip to mine. I took a surreptitious look around and dismissed the lady at the end of the aisle, selecting deodorants.
“What are we gonna do with a vibrator?” I asked, leaning close to him.
“Oh, I can think of a few things,” he answered. “Several of which do, in fact, require precision.”
My face warming further, I took at the look at the other massagers displayed on the shelf. My eyes fell on the price tag.
“Dude, Leo, that thing’s sixty-nine bucks.”
He hummed. “Of course it is.”
“Sixty-nine, as in, almost seventy.”
“Ebron,” he said, and reached up, taking my chin in his hand and pressing his thumb to my bottom lip. “You said you would buy me a Christmas present.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Sure. Okay. Yeah. Merry Christmas.”
“Thanks,” he said and leaned up, kissing me lightly on the lips. “We’ll need to grab some more lube.”
I heard a squeak and we both looked up to see several fellow shoppers –parents with kids and a baby in the cart – frozen at the end of the aisle. They stared at us, at our loose embrace, our faces together. The two adults reversed, hauling their squabbling and confused children after them. The woman smelling deodorants glanced up at the commotion, too, completely oblivious. She looked around, blinked at us, and went back to her careful comparative shopping as the aisle cleared out. Leo and I shared a quick smile.
“I still have to get something for Dahlia,” I said, reluctantly stepping away. He smelled so good.
Leo grabbed another massager off the shelf and shoved it into my chest. “Trust me on this,” he said. “She’ll love you for it.”
“Yeah, I’m guessing her husband won’t.” I set it back on the shelf. “Dudes don’t buy other dudes’ wives personal massagers. Trust me on
that
.”
“How about a hydrotherapy foot massager?”
“I’m not getting her anything with the word ‘massager’ in it. Maybe something for her running? Like, how about new ear buds?”
“Her loss,” he said, shrugging.
We circled around back to electronics and Leo looked at the laptops while I picked out some Bluetooth ear buds for Dahlia.
“You thinking about getting a computer?” I asked when I made my way to his side.
He sighed and shook his head. “Naw. I just miss Netflix when I’m not with you.”
“Oh,” I said. My stomach tightened and I carefully studied his profile. “You don’t have internet when you’re… gone?”
He snorted. “The internet is everywhere, Ebron. I don’t have a computer, though, so…” he trailed off.
“You should get a smart phone,” I said. “Then I can text you, even when you’re gone, and you can watch movies and play games.”
“My dumb phone works just fine,” he replied stiffly.
“But you don’t get text messages-”
“Ebron,” Leo interrupted. I stopped and several emotions flickered over his face. I bit my lip, shifting nervously.
“Maybe some other time,” he said, his eyes gentle. He touched his fingers to mine, not quite squeezing.
I nodded and busied myself by shrugging off my coat. “It’s hot in here,” I said in explanation.
Leo waited a beat, like he expected me to say something more. “Do we need anything else?” he asked when I kept my mouth shut.
“Nope,” I said. “Let’s head out.”
We journeyed through the store, heading towards the registers. Leo only rolled his eyes when I made a few impulse grabs, picking up some new socks and a plastic Christmas stocking full of dog treats for Johnny.
Half a dozen people stood in each check-out line and I edged the cart into the queue. Leo fingered some lighters, touched the multi-packs of gum. His head suddenly jerked up.
“Oh, I forgot,” he said and jogged off without another word.
I stared after him, then picked through the tabloids, catching up on all the celebrity gossip I didn’t care about. Then finally the guy in front of me paid and I started loading my stuff onto the belt.
“Find everything okay?” the checker asked. I looked up at him and he grinned as he beeped the massager and stuffed it in a sack.
“Yep,” I said, my face flushing. I pulled my coat back on, avoiding the eyes of everyone around me.
“Here,” Leo panted, appearing at my side. He tossed a couple of tubes of lube on top of my other purchases and my face went from warm to molten.
“I know it’s not our usual brand,” Leo said, low into my ear. “But it’s supposed to
tingle
.”
“
Leo
,” I hissed, but the guy at the register just laughed and finished bagging my stuff. I swiped my debit card, my face burning.
“Have a very Merry Christmas,” the checkout guy said, handing me my receipt. He winked at me.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“We plan to,” Leo said. He grabbed all the bags in one hand and started off, cutting through the crowd without a backwards glance.
The automatic doors whooshed open and an arctic blast of air chilled my heated face. I slipped on a patch of ice as I followed Leo across the dark parking lot.
“So, do you want dinner?” he asked, holding his hand out for the keys.
“We can just hit a drive-through,” I said, handing them over.
Leo grinned at me as he shoved the shopping bags into the backseat. “Anxious to get home?”
“Uh,” I said and then smiled back at him. “Maybe.”
“Thanks for my Christmas present.”
“Oh, you’re very welcome. Did you get a present for me?”
“Yes,” he said, climbing into the driver’s seat. He leered at me. “I’ll be giving it to you later tonight.”
I sat down beside him, a little closer than I might normally have sat, letting my shoulder brush against his.
“I look forward to it,” I said, leaning over to kiss him.
“You’ll like it,” he said. “It’s a gift that keeps on giving.”
I smiled. “Merry Christmas to me.”
The End
Thank you for reading this short! I hope you enjoyed it!
If you would like to know more about my writing process, when new books are available, my dogs’ antics, my love of tattoos, or other random musings I have, follow me on Twitter at
https://twitter.com/malcatthews
.
Or visit me at
http://www.calmatthews.com
. I blog there, and regularly update my writing schedule.
Ratings and reviews mean the world to me, good or bad. Please consider leaving a rating or review at All Romance eBooks, Amazon, Goodreads, or Smashwords.
Season’s Bleeding
is a short story set in the world of
The Thaumaturge Series
. The first novel in the series,
The Dead
, is available from All Romance eBooks, Amazon, and Smashwords. The second book in the series,
Boneyard
, is scheduled for release in early 2016.
Thank you again!
About the Author
Cal Matthews enjoys hot cocoa, snowboarding, board games, and snuggling up with a good book. A native Montanan, Cal likes the snow... until about mid-March.
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