Captivated Read Free

didn’t usually shop at this market, but this place was conveniently close to the Angel. Armed with his reusable bags from the trunk, the list he kept updated on his phone and the small accordion file of coupons he collected from the bar’s Sunday paper every week, Jesse grabbed a cart and hit the aisles.
    And there she was.
    The woman from the bar. Colleen, last name unknown. Today, as usual, her pale hair was pulled back at the base of her neck in a sleek bun. She wore a tailored black wool coat that came to her knees, a hint of crimson liner at the throat and sleeves, and below it a pair of black-stockinged legs and librarian pumps with a strap across the top of her foot that, no kidding, left his throat a little dry. She carried a paper cup of coffee in one hand and pushed her cart, one of the little ones, with the other.
    She wasn’t watching where she was going. It was easy enough for him to let his cart bump hers, gently enough not to even slop her coffee. It was easy, but stupid, Jesse thought at the last second as she turned, frowning. Now he’d pissed her off.
    Again.
    “Sorry,” she said, though it was clear she knew it was his fault. “Oh. It’s you.”
    “It’s me. Jesse,” he added.
    “I know your name. You work at The Fallen Angel.” She inched her cart, containing a carton of eggs and a loaf of rye bread, away from his.
    “And you’re Colleen.”
    “Yes.” She could’ve pulled her cart away and stalked off down the aisle without looking at him again, but instead she cleared her throat. “So...you shop here?”
    Jesse looked at his own cart, empty at the moment. “Nah. I just come in, push a cart around for exercise. Beats the gym fees.”
    It had been a gamble, just as bumping her cart had been, but this time she laughed. Her face lit up. A man could fall in love with a woman who laughed like that.
    “That was a stupid question. Sorry.” Colleen sipped her coffee, her large gray eyes meeting his over the rim of the cup without sliding away.
    Those eyes. Shit. He was a goner.
    For weeks he’d been getting to know her little by little. At first she was only another customer, but over time he’d begun to notice the things about her that stood out. The quiet way she sat by herself, never engaging anyone in more than the barest of conversations. Sometimes she read a book. Sometimes she toyed with her phone while she ate some pub food, usually onion rings but sometimes fries. Once or twice, she ordered a basket of fish and chips.
    The glass of whiskey she ordered every week without fail, but never drank.
    But although they’d had their share of casual interactions, had she ever looked at him until right now? Really looked, as if she actually saw him? She had, fleetingly, last night, and it was obvious she hadn’t cared much for what she’d seen. Now she was looking at him again, her gray gaze pinning him, and he found himself struggling a little for words.
    “My father used to say there are no stupid questions,” she continued as though there hadn’t been a minute of painfully awkward silence between them. “Just stupid people.”
    “I was being a jerk. Trying to be funny. I’m an idiot.”
    She laughed again, not as loud, but the sound was as lovely the second time as it had been the first. That laugh dug into him, between his ribs. Into the tender places beneath.
    “I need to get going. I’ll be late for work.” She lifted her coffee cup his way in something like a salute. “See you...?”
    “Next Thursday,” Jesse said, and found himself wishing it were tomorrow instead of next week.

Chapter Two
    Colleen pressed her fingers deep into the sore spot just below her ear. An old injury flared up whenever she got tense, which had been happening a lot recently. Of late, circumstances had required her have more to do with Steve than usual. No matter how she tried to never let her ex-husband get under her skin, he was still an expert at it. Probably always would be.
    As if Mondays