Read Online Trust in Me by Beth Cornelison - Free Book Online Page A

and what he had left her gaping like an idiot. The dizzy rush returned in force, and when the world pitched, she braced herself on the back wall.
    "You h-have a phone call."
    He nodded. "Thanks."
    She drew a slow, shaky breath as she watched him pull his T-shirt back on and tuck the hem into his jeans. Why had she never noticed how well his jeans fit him?
    And had she really told herself once that he wasn't especially handsome, thought of him as ordinary?
    She'd been wrong.
     

C HAPTER F OUR
     
    Okay, maybe he hadn't been wrong to hire Claire. Despite the distraction she caused him , Claire was proving an excellent employee. Over the past several days, she'd captivated Lydia and Lowery's regular customers, and she made heartrendingly earnest efforts to learn the job.
    Kevin leaned back in the office chair to peer out the door. Claire stood by the cash register with Lydia and a pile of merchandise.
    "So this is electrical tape and this is duck tape. Right?"
    Claire waved the two rolls in question.
    Lydia chuckled. "Duct with a 't'. Not duck with a quack quack."
    A pink flush stained Claire's cheek. "Oh. Gotcha. And these are needle-nose pliers. What are they used for?"
    Kevin rocked forward again, grinning, and tried to focus on reconciling the books before Mr. Lowery stopped by that afternoon. No doubt Claire's genteel manners and Southern grace would charm the store owner as well.
    "Hey, I've gotta tool for you, Claire. And I'll show you how to use it any time you want."
    Hearing Ray's lowbrow remark, Kevin groaned and pushed back from the desk. Ray, the little rain cloud that ruined an otherwise sunny situation. Kevin marched over to the register where Ray had joined the ladies, ready to go to battle again over the teen's language. What else could he do when Ray's father ignored the trouble his son caused?
    "When are you gonna grow up, boy?" Lydia fussed.
    Ignoring the question, Ray stepped inside the invisible boundary of Claire's personal space. She scowled and backed away until she hit the shelves behind her. "Thanks for the offer, Ray, but I'll let Lydia teach me what I need to know about the merchandise."
    Again Ray closed in.
    Hackles raised, Kevin stalked forward.
    "I ain't talking about merchandise, sugar. I mean what I got in my—"
    "Ray." Kevin slapped a clipboard against the stock clerk's shoulder, cutting him off. "If you've got nothing better to do than hassle the cashiers, then start taking inventory in the chemical aisle."
    Ray glared at him. "That's your job."
    "Unless I delegate it to you, which I just did. Now, move it."
    The teen didn't budge, but Kevin's distraction was enough to allow Claire to slip away and step around the counter. The pressure in Kevin's chest eased, knowing he'd met his main objective. Still, his gaze clashed with Ray's dark glower, and like a storm gathering on the horizon, he sensed a showdown with the teen was brewing, coming to a head. Then what? He already knew what happened when he let anger push him to react with violence and never wanted to repeat that humbling, guilt-burdening experience again. No, forsaking his non-violent ideals was untenable. And quitting his job when he had a mountain of debt would be foolish. Which left finding some way to impress upon Mr. Lowery the extent of his son's detrimental behavior.
    With a growl of displeasure, Ray snatched the clipboard and stomped toward the chemical aisle. Kevin turned his attention to Claire, who was gathering the items she'd been learning with Lydia.
    "That boy gets away with murder. Always has," Lydia groused. "Why, I remember when he was just a little kid the way he'd run up and down the center aisle at church." The older cashier folded her arms across her chest. "Knew then his parents' loose hand with him would mean misery for the rest of us. The big heathen!"
    Kevin watched Claire, clanging tools as she loaded her arms. "You okay?"
    "I'm fine." But her jerky movements as she collected the tools and tape in her arms