Read Online A Very Holland Valentine: Holland Brothers 6 by Toni Griffin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Toni Griffin
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the doctor's orders.
He started the engine, but before heading home, he remembered he had to call past the supermarket to pick up a couple of ingredients he needed for dinner. Brian made the quick drive and pulled up in the large car park out the front of Safeway. Next to the supermarket complex was a pub on one side and a chain fast food joint on the other. There were also dozens of little shops, including a generic bakery, a hairdresser, a coffee shop, and a newsagency to name a few. He grabbed a couple of his reusable shopping bags out of the glove box and locked the car before heading inside.
After the day Brian had had at work, he was absolutely exhausted and couldn't be bothered making anything elaborate for dinner or having to spend a great deal of time on his feet in the kitchen. He'd decided an hour ago that he really felt like apricot chicken, and seeing as it was one of the simplest meals he knew how to cook, that fit perfectly with his plans.
The supermarket was lovely and air-conditioned, which made a nice change to the heat outside. He was lucky in the fact that the Heart in Hand was also air-conditioned and Brian could stay cool at work during these rare heat waves they occasionally experienced.
Brian picked up a basket and got to work. It didn't take him very long to gather all the ingredients he required. Rice he had a home, but he needed chicken pieces, tins of apricot nectar, a couple of lemons, and a few packets of French onion soup mix.
Once done, Brian used the self-service checkout up front. He collected his bags—the heavy tins in one bag and everything else in the other to balance out the weight—and made the trek back to the car.
He had started crossing the car park when a shout went up just to the right.
"Hey, you." The speech was slurred.
Brian didn't look, he kept his eyes on his car.
"Hey! I's a talkin' to you."
Brian noticed a fairly rotund older man staggering toward him, his hand held out as if to stop Brian.
Brian quickened his pace, but the drunken man was surprising fast on his feet for someone that had obviously consumed a great deal of alcohol. The man took a bruising grip to Brian's arm and spun him around.
Brian's hold on his groceries tightened. "Let go of me. I don't know you and you have no right to touch me."
"You're one ov them… ain't ya? I… seen ya… at that house… with that fag." He spat the word 'fag' like it was filth.
Brian tried to tug his arm away, but the man had a hold on him. Brian looked around frantically, hoping someone would help, but unless he wanted to scream to garner some passer-by's attention, there was no one close enough.
The guy stunk. Brian couldn't even contemplate how much he would have had to drunk for the stench of alcohol to be clinging to him like it was. It was practically coming out of his pores. His shirt was strained with God knew what, his hair was greasy and lank, and his beard had specks of food in it. Brian almost passed out from the stench of the man's breath.
"Pretty boy… begged to suck my cock. Then got me fired. You wanna suck my dick?" The leer on the man's face had Brian shuddering in revulsion. The grip tightened on Brian's arm and he knew the man was about to yank him close. No way in hell did Brian want to get any closer to this guy than he already was, as it stood, he was going to want to shower as soon as he got home.
"I don't think so, asshole," Brian said.
He was just thankful that the arm the man had a hold of was not the one he was carrying the heavy tins of apricot nectar in. He tightened the grip on his shopping bag, pulled his free arm back, and swung with all his might.
The man was stunned for all of two seconds as the shopping bag full of heavy tins came barrelling into him, and then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed to the ground. As soon as he'd been hit, the man's grip on Brian's arm let go. Brian hightailed it away from him and to his car, where he fumbled to get his
He started the engine, but before heading home, he remembered he had to call past the supermarket to pick up a couple of ingredients he needed for dinner. Brian made the quick drive and pulled up in the large car park out the front of Safeway. Next to the supermarket complex was a pub on one side and a chain fast food joint on the other. There were also dozens of little shops, including a generic bakery, a hairdresser, a coffee shop, and a newsagency to name a few. He grabbed a couple of his reusable shopping bags out of the glove box and locked the car before heading inside.
After the day Brian had had at work, he was absolutely exhausted and couldn't be bothered making anything elaborate for dinner or having to spend a great deal of time on his feet in the kitchen. He'd decided an hour ago that he really felt like apricot chicken, and seeing as it was one of the simplest meals he knew how to cook, that fit perfectly with his plans.
The supermarket was lovely and air-conditioned, which made a nice change to the heat outside. He was lucky in the fact that the Heart in Hand was also air-conditioned and Brian could stay cool at work during these rare heat waves they occasionally experienced.
Brian picked up a basket and got to work. It didn't take him very long to gather all the ingredients he required. Rice he had a home, but he needed chicken pieces, tins of apricot nectar, a couple of lemons, and a few packets of French onion soup mix.
Once done, Brian used the self-service checkout up front. He collected his bags—the heavy tins in one bag and everything else in the other to balance out the weight—and made the trek back to the car.
He had started crossing the car park when a shout went up just to the right.
"Hey, you." The speech was slurred.
Brian didn't look, he kept his eyes on his car.
"Hey! I's a talkin' to you."
Brian noticed a fairly rotund older man staggering toward him, his hand held out as if to stop Brian.
Brian quickened his pace, but the drunken man was surprising fast on his feet for someone that had obviously consumed a great deal of alcohol. The man took a bruising grip to Brian's arm and spun him around.
Brian's hold on his groceries tightened. "Let go of me. I don't know you and you have no right to touch me."
"You're one ov them… ain't ya? I… seen ya… at that house… with that fag." He spat the word 'fag' like it was filth.
Brian tried to tug his arm away, but the man had a hold on him. Brian looked around frantically, hoping someone would help, but unless he wanted to scream to garner some passer-by's attention, there was no one close enough.
The guy stunk. Brian couldn't even contemplate how much he would have had to drunk for the stench of alcohol to be clinging to him like it was. It was practically coming out of his pores. His shirt was strained with God knew what, his hair was greasy and lank, and his beard had specks of food in it. Brian almost passed out from the stench of the man's breath.
"Pretty boy… begged to suck my cock. Then got me fired. You wanna suck my dick?" The leer on the man's face had Brian shuddering in revulsion. The grip tightened on Brian's arm and he knew the man was about to yank him close. No way in hell did Brian want to get any closer to this guy than he already was, as it stood, he was going to want to shower as soon as he got home.
"I don't think so, asshole," Brian said.
He was just thankful that the arm the man had a hold of was not the one he was carrying the heavy tins of apricot nectar in. He tightened the grip on his shopping bag, pulled his free arm back, and swung with all his might.
The man was stunned for all of two seconds as the shopping bag full of heavy tins came barrelling into him, and then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed to the ground. As soon as he'd been hit, the man's grip on Brian's arm let go. Brian hightailed it away from him and to his car, where he fumbled to get his
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