Call Me Wild Read Free Page B

like six years old? This stuff will kill you.”
    Jessica took the jar of Fluff out of his hands and returned it to her cart. “It’s comfort food, and right now, I’m not about to question it.”
    “I was just heading over to the butcher block, hoping for inspiration, when I saw you and thought I’d be neighborly and say hello.”
    “We’re neighbors?”
    “We must be if you shop here. I live in the North End, and I assume you do too.” He moved his cart closer, blocking her in. “I was thinking a nice piece of sea bass, maybe some tuna, rainbow trout, or salmon. How’s that sound to you?”
    She shrugged.
    Fisher chose to ignore her lack of an answer. “Yeah, barbecued fish, a side of yellow rice with roasted vegetables, and a big Caesar salad sounds good. There’s plenty for two if you want to come over and keep me company.”
    Jessica leaned against her cart and stared dumbfounded—that was the only way he could describe the look on her face. “Do you do this often? Pick up total strangers at the grocery store and invite them to dinner?”
    “You’re not a stranger. I’ve seen more of you today than I do most people in a week. I know that your name is Jessica, you have a thing for venti Americanos with sugar-free vanilla syrup, and you’re new around here.” He leaned a little closer to her. “FYI, for the most part Boiseans are friendly people. This”—he motioned from him to her and back again—“is nothing unusual.”
    “Seriously?” She stepped back as if he had bad breath. “You do this often? How many women have you picked up while grocery shopping?”
    “I’m not picking you up. I’m inviting you to dinner. As for how many women I’ve invited to dinner while at this store, I’m not sure. I’ve never thought about it. But really, Jessica, from what I see in your cart, you could use a good, healthy meal. I’m offering one, and I’m a great cook.”
    “And modest too.” She took what looked like a mental inventory of each cart before giving him a seemingly self-conscious shrug. “Thanks for the invite, but I have a lot of work to do tonight.”
    “Shot down twice in one day. I don’t know if my bruised ego will ever recover.”
    She looked as if she was searching for a way to escape. “I can’t imagine it being a problem. I’ll see you around.”
    Fisher nodded and rolled his cart out of her way. “Only if you don’t see me first. Right?”
    “Right.” The side of her lips quirked as if she wanted to smile and wouldn’t allow it.
    Oh yeah, right then and there, Fisher decided he was going to see that smile. If he had to chase her for twenty-five miles uphill in a head wind—hopefully with good visibility—he’d see her smile.

Chapter 2
    There are times in life when you just have to man up and tally your losses—Fisher just never thought he’d lose this big. “Knitting classes?”
    He’d known he was too old to bet on getting laid. Okay, not too old, since Fisher had, after a few shots and some brotherly arm-twisting, reluctantly agreed to the bet. Unfortunately, he’d picked a fine time to grow a conscience, or whatever it was that had kept him from taking home the first gorgeous, willing woman he’d encountered… or the second, or the third. Hell, he’d lost count. He hadn’t known what, but something was missing—something important. He just hadn’t been sure if it was something missing in him, or them. Shit, maybe he was going through a midlife crisis, although thirty-two was way too young to be having one.
    Fisher sat at the bar at Humpin’ Hannah’s and ignored his twin brother’s smile—one exactly like his own. He concentrated instead on the wagon wheel mounted from the ceiling and the florescent orange bra, a recent addition to the collection of shoes and undergarments decorating the wheel like Christmas tree ornaments.
    Hunter was a brown-haired version of Fisher, with a little more brawn and a lot less brain—okay, maybe not a lot less, but