4

4

Marcus

The blood-red stain was seeping out from under Mr G's head, and there were ugly spatters over his upper body and face. Oh God, how was this happening on my first day in the store? For a second, I was too horrified to move, then, as Pips pushed finally through the customers to crouch over the senior citizen, I swallowed my shock and sprang into action.

I shielded the body, holding my palms out to keep people at bay. "Please, everyone. Stand back. Give him room."

"Cashiers? Get back to the tills, we can take it from here," said Lina, the supervisor. Although she looked shocked too, she wasn't taking any nonsense. I stepped up beside her and, between the two of us, we herded everyone else out of the aisle, then pulled a couple of trolleys over to block access.

"Lina, shouldn't it be police tape?" Shanaz was now lurking behind a display of batteries and light bulbs, clasping her hands. "No one must leave the building until their statement's been taken!"

"What the hell? I've got to pick up my kids," said one of the women who'd been trying to snoop over my shoulder.

"And I've got a very small bladder." A small, balding man in a three-piece suit hastily backed away in the direction of the customer toilets.

"It's not a crime scene, girl," Lina muttered. But the threat of getting trapped in the store seemed to work more successfully than my attempts to shoo the customers back like a flock of sheep. Shortly I found myself left in the aisle with just Lina and Pips. And Mr G, of course.

Who, to my relief, was making odd little snuffling noises.

I crouched quickly beside Pips. "Is he okay? What happened?"

"It's the bloody soup !" Pips' voice was scornful, but I saw the flash of relief in his eyes. "Not blood. I bet he was trying to get more helpings and toppled the table."

I'd come to offer my help. But maybe I was enjoying being close to Pips, too. As I shifted, our shoulders touched.

Whoa . It was like a spark of electricity zinged between us. It made my entire body fizz. I'd never known a reaction like it! I never usually approached vibrant men like Pips; I never thought they'd be interested in me. Plus I'd had a really lean dating life over the last few months because I'd been so concentrated on work. But Pips had caught my eye the minute I turned the corner of preserves and tea bags, seeing him sway teasingly behind his cookery table, joking with the customers. He just sparkled . I couldn't think of a better description for why my breath shortened and my gaze was swiftly caught—and held. That provocative look of his in return had my heart beating much faster than it should. When he'd asked me out for a drink, I hadn't hesitated or second-guessed myself for a second.

The man on the floor groaned, and a wave of embarrassment swamped me. What the hell was I thinking? There's a time and a place for ogling guys, Marcus . And this wasn't it.

Pips glanced at me, frowning, and held out his finger. It was tipped with dark red liquid and I didn't even stop to think—I leaned forward and licked it off.

Pips' pupils dilated.

"Checking," I said quickly. "I'm just checking. Not the most hygenic thing to do, I know, my mum would kill me—"

"But hot," Pips murmured. "Really hot."

I swallowed heavily. "Um. Should we call an ambulance?" Thank God, no one was actually bleeding out, and now I could see Mr G's chest rising and falling strongly under the baggy YBB tunic he wore.

"Pips, is that you, boy?" Mr G gave another, more theatrical groan, rolled over onto his side, and smiled wanly at us. "No need for the paramedics. I just took a tumble. A few strong arms to help me up is enough. You and that handsome man next to you will do."

"Mr G, you'd better stay still for a moment while we check you out—" I began to say.

But the old man was already on his knees and reaching for my arm to help him to his feet.

"No need for fuss," he grunted.

"Gerald, what the hell is going on?" came a high-pitched voice from the end of the aisle. "Lina says you're on your back between baby carrots and cake toppings." An elderly woman I assumed was Mrs G came hurrying up to us, her hair captured in a severe bun, and her sensible shoes squeaking on the flooring. Lina was beside her, and behind her was the store manager, Tamara Blackthorn, complete with pursed lips and angry frown.

"Fuck," Pips muttered as he caught sight of her.

But Mr G pushed in front of us both and started trying to schmooze Tamara. "Everything's fine," he soothed her. "Just too many people all clustered around. I slipped on my own damn trouser hem, and brought down the Demo table on top of me. Gladys will soon sort me out, I'll be right as rain."

Tamara didn't look reassured. To be honest, nor would I be, with a blustering pensioner in front of me, smiling through his crooked dentures and with ghastly red stains all down his front. A few curious spectators still hovered at the end of the aisle. All we needed now was someone to film it for TikTok and the humiliation for YBB would be complete.

"I think you should take him home, Gladys," Tamara said sharply to Mrs G. "Right now. And he shouldn't come in again."

"For a couple of days," Mr G protested quickly. "Just while I get over the shock of my own silly clumsiness."

"A week," Tamara said firmly. It sounded like a negotiation.

I was distracted by Pips tugging at my sleeve. He'd crouched back down, mopping at the mess, or maybe hiding from Tamara.

"Give me a cloth?"

I scooped up some towels Lina had brought over and handed them down to him.

"Thanks, fellow minion," he grinned. And he sent me a very warm look when I knelt again, to help him clean up.