My Kind of Girl (22 page)

Checking her watch, she had five
minutes to dash to the next trolley that would take her home to her
loft apartment at Central Station. There, she could kick off her
heels, sip a latte, and eat the other tiramisu—sure to go straight
to her hips—and type the article on the Italian restaurant and the
other one from a few days ago.

Once at the trolley stop, Shelbi
realized she had given all of her quarters to Lizzie. She dug
around her purse for some loose change or a dollar, but all she
found were eight pennies, her checkbook, and a half-eaten bag of
Skittles. It was a fifteen-block walk from the trolley stop to her
loft. She’d made the trip several times in tennis shoes with her
jogging partner, but never in her sister’s Christian Louboutins and
a dress.

The red trolley stopped in front of
her, and the door slid open. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the trolley
driver who had a crush on her and gave her free rides whether she
had money or not. She hoped the driver would have pity on
her.

“
Good afternoon…um…”—she
glanced at his nametag—“Mike. It seems I have given all of my
change as a tip to the waitress a few minutes ago. All I have are
these few…” She stopped to hold out her hand. “Pennies.”

The driver tilted his head to the side
and looked down at her hand. “All you gave the waitress was some
change?” he asked in a harsh tone.

Stunned at his remark, as well as
embarrassed at the line of people behind her groaning impatiently,
Shelbi didn’t know what to say or do. She checked her wallet,
hoping she had a dollar hidden somewhere.

“
Move it, lady!” a man
behind her shouted.

“
Hurry up!” a lady with a
crying baby screamed.

“
I have a slice of tiramisu
you can have,” Shelbi whispered. “Never mind.” She turned to go
before she said something rude, or worse, cried from
embarrassment.

“
I’ll take care of it,” a
deep, concerned voice to her left said. A whiff of intoxicating
cologne floated by as the considerate stranger dropped a one-dollar
bill into the trolley’s money slot.

“
Thank you.” Shelbi looked
up to see a chiseled, handsome face and a sexy smile that caused
her breathing to stop. When their eyes met, an immediate rush of
sensual excitement washed over her skin. She glanced at his hand
that had just placed the money in the slot. No wedding ring, but it
didn’t mean he was single. A man as chivalrous as him probably had
women chasing him all over Memphis.

“
No problem.” He placed his
hand at the small of her back. “Let’s go sit down.” The warmth in
his voice and his kind gesture made Shelbi forget about her
embarrassing moment.

While on their walk, Shelbi assessed
his at least six-foot-one muscular frame, curly yet wild black
hair, and a fair complexion with a slight tan as if he had just
come from the beach. He wore jeans with a rust-colored corduroy
jacket and a cream T-shirt, perfect for the first day of
fall.

Shelbi was used to the take-charge
kind of guy thanks to her dad and her two overprotective brothers.
However, the way the stranger glanced down at her, giving her a
comforting smile, made her heart skip a beat or two and was
anything but brotherly.

Once settled in their seats, Shelbi
turned toward him and once again was blown away by his strikingly
handsome face. Her breathing unsteady, she tried to concentrate on
the woman holding a baby the next seat over. Instead, her eyes were
drawn to the good-looking stranger with dark, thick eyebrows and a
neatly trimmed mustache with a slight beard growing in. He was
sinfully delicious. If he were dessert, she would’ve devoured him
right then and there.

“
Thank you so much for
paying my fare. Where are you getting off? I can pay you
back.”

He chuckled. “Baby, its only one
dollar, but did I hear you say you have a slice of tiramisu?” He
pointed toward the to-go bag in her lap.

“
Why yes, I do, and you’re
more than welcome to have it.”

“
I’m teasing, but it’s nice
to know you were willing to give it to me.”

Their eyes locked on his
last four words. A heat wave rushed over her at the thought
of
giving it to him
. Shocked at her thoughts about a stranger, she tried to stay
focused.

“
Well, you saved me from
walking fifteen blocks in five-inch heels.” Laughing, she stretched
one leg for him to see the heels on her shoes—well, her sister’s
shoes.

“
Hmmm…very nice…um, shoes,”
the gentleman said followed by a wink and a slight biting of his
bottom lip.

Shelbi raised her eyebrow as she
caught his curious eyes perusing her toned legs before they settled
on her face.

“
So what’s your
name?”

“
Shelbi Arrington. And
yours?

“
Justin
Richardson.”

“
Nice to meet you, Mr.
Richardson.”

She froze when their legs brushed as
the trolley turned a corner, unleashing goose bumps all over her
skin. She pretended to look out the window to hide the heat she
felt rising in her face. She’d experienced these types of emotions
before, but never within a five-minute time frame. In a few more
moments, she would be at home, even though she really wanted to
ride the trolley all afternoon with the handsome Mr.
Richardson.

“
I haven’t seen you on the
trolley before. Are you new to the area?” he asked, studying her
face carefully.

“
I just moved downtown
about four months ago. Before then, I lived in
Nashville.”

“
What brings you to
Memphis?”

“
I accepted a job at
The Memphis Tribune
as
one of the food critics for
Food for
Thought
.”

His thick, dark eyebrows rose
slightly. “You’re a food critic? Critique any good restaurants
lately?”

“
As a matter of fact, I
have. I went to Chow Bella’s for lunch today, and a few days ago,
Lillian’s for dinner.”

He nodded. “So, did you like
Lillian’s?”

“
I can’t answer your
question. You’ll have to buy a newspaper or go online to read my
article on next Thursday,” she said, smiling at him.

“
Witty and beautiful. I
like that. But I’m sure there’s something you did or didn’t like
about Lillian’s.”

Shelbi hesitated for a moment. She
really didn’t want to tell a complete stranger, even though he did
just rescue her from embarrassment and sore feet.

“
Well, I was quite
impressed with the atmosphere, and the food was delicious
overall.”

“
Overall? What was
wrong?”

“
Nothing really. A few
things could’ve been better. The barbecue sauce tasted a little
bland, even though it’s supposed to be the chef’s special recipe.
It seemed store-bought, and they don’t serve pork, but this is
Memphis, for crying out loud. Where’s the pig?”

“
Um…well, maybe the chef
wants to try a healthier angle. Pork isn’t good for your system. It
isn’t easy for the body to digest.”

“
I’ll remember your tip the
next time I cook bacon.”

“
So…” He stopped
midsentence as Shelbi stood.

“
This is my stop,” she said
disappointedly.

“
Too bad. I really enjoyed
talking to you.”

“
Me too. Thank you so much
again for paying my fare.” She stepped off the trolley and
hesitantly glanced over her shoulder to see the fine-looking man
one more time.