At the sight of the imposing figure of the Bastard Scot marching toward the cart from the other side, I picked up my feet and almost ran toward the spot. I skittered into place behind a man in a suit, accidentally hitting his carry-on with mine. He threw me an annoyed look over his shoulder and I gave him a quick smile of apology before bestowing a “you can suck it” grin on the Scot as he pulled up to the line after me.
“You snooze, you lose,” I said over my shoulder, not caring how infantile I sounded.
“You’re four years old, you know that?”
“I finally beat you in line—that’s what I know.”
I scowled at the insult, which was even worse than “fruitcake.” “Dickwad.”
“You seem tae be obsessed with my dick.”
I spun around. “Excuse me?”
“Those are insults.”
“With a very specific focus.”
— FIGHT OR FLIGHT
Out Oct 9th from Berkley Romance.
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