Page 3 of The Disasters of Dating (Love Connections #6)

I shake my head. “I’d gladly pay for the gum,” I sigh.

Not that I need it. I still have four packs that I purchased on my last two trips—one each on arrival and then departure.

Don’t ask me why I haven’t taken them out of my backpack.

Probably because unpacking everything when I get home is the last thing I want to do.

But still, gum is literally the last thing I need right now.

“If I had picked up any gum. But I didn’t. ”

She holds out her hand, and I notice she’s wearing a ring with a medium-sized pink stone in it. It’s pretty in an odd way. “Either give me the gum or the two dollars, and I’ll not have you arrested.”

My brows shoot up. It’s suddenly gotten much more serious. “Arrested? For what? I didn’t take any gum.”

Her head shakes slowly. “I have video of it.” She points to the shiny, black dome on the ceiling and then at a cellphone perched on the checkout counter. “Multiple videos of it.”

“You’re videoing me?” I’m not sure whether to be flattered or offended.

“I want to have plenty of proof. Sometimes that camera doesn’t get the best angle.” She nods to the ceiling dome. “Listen, if you can’t afford the two dollars, I will give it to you. But I can’t just let you take it. It goes against all of my principles.”

I feel my irritation rising. This girl is cute, but I’m not sure anyone is hot enough to go through this.

People have stopped and are staring at us.

And that is definitely not on my bucket list. Maybe I should give her the two dollars so I can leave.

But if I give her the two dollars, that’s like admitting I stole the gum.

And I didn’t. Why should I confess—in theory—to something I didn’t do?

“I can afford two dollars.” Can she not see that my jeans and shirt are name brand?

Granted, my sister-in-law bought them for me as a graduation present, but she doesn’t know that.

“But I’m not paying for gum that I didn’t take. ”

She reaches forward and grabs hold of my backpack. “Prove it.”

I jerk away, hitching my backpack further up on my shoulder.

“Hey, you can’t take my backpack. You’re not a cop or TSA or anything.

You have no authority.” I’m totally over this conversation.

Why didn’t I just grab an Uber and head to Lehi?

“You know what? I’m out of here.” I turn on my heel, but I’m jerked back into place, and my backpack falls off my shoulder.

I turn to see her hand white-knuckling the handle on the top. “I don’t think so. Security is on its way.”

I sigh. I’m not worried about security. The gum I previously purchased is in a zipper pocket inside one of the zippered pouches.

If they find it and then watch the videos, they will see that there is no way that gum could be the gum she claims I stole.

But I don’t have time to deal with the whole security thing right now.

I pull out my money clip—also from my dad—and pull off two dollar bills.

“You know what? I didn’t steal the gum, but I’m late for my Uber. So here, take the money.”

She folds her arms over her chest and snort/guffaws. “Oh, we are way past that now, sir. You had your chance. Now we are waiting for security.”

I roll my eyes and drop my head back, looking at the ceiling. This can’t be happening. But I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t try to pick up girls in the airport news shops anymore—no matter how attracted I am to them. No matter how cute they are.

I throw the bills on the end of the counter and shove my wallet in my pocket. “I’m leaving.”

Poppy—which doesn’t seem like such an adorable name anymore—moves in front of me and puts her hands out to her side, like she is blocking my exit. Is she for real?

“No!” she hollers. “You can’t leave.” Then she starts moving from side to side, like she’s doing some boxing move.

I just stare at her. I truly have no idea what is going on.

Is she supposed to look threatening? And does she really think she can stop me?

I may have ridden the bench in high school, but that doesn’t mean I’m not fit.

I could totally mow her over. Not that I would.

I’m not that kind of guy. Even so, she isn’t the one keeping me here.

Okay, that’s not completely true. Her strange behavior is keeping me here.

But only out of curiosity and confusion.

I move to fake her out, going to one side and then quickly moving to the other side.

I get past her human barricade with ridiculous ease and start toward the security exit.

But a weight on my backpack brings me to a halt after only four steps, nearly pulling me to the ground.

“No,” she cries, and I look back to see her clutching my backpack. And it looks as if she has gone…boneless. She is just dead weight hanging off my backpack. Oh. My. Crap. I can barely stand upright. “Security will be here momentarily,” she calls from her place almost on the floor.

As if they heard her pleas, a man in a uniform strides toward us, a determined look on his face. He’s taller than I am and probably twice my size in girth also. I wouldn’t say he is fat, but I’m pretty sure I could outrun him. Not that I plan to. I don’t need to be on the No Fly List.

People are openly gawking. I can’t even imagine how many people might be missing flights because they are standing here in the middle of the terminal staring at this weirdo girl hanging off my backpack.

I’m pretty sure this will end up on the internet somewhere because there are definitely people videoing it.

Don’t they need my permission? I’ll Google that later.

“What in holy hel—,” the security guard blusters. His glare moves from me to Poppy and then back to me. He grunts. “Unhand him, Miss Ashcombe.”

She hops up and straightens her flowy skirt and shirt.

“I was trying to delay him until you got here, Joe. It took you long enough. I pressed the silent alarm, like, ten minutes ago. He could have been on a plane by now.” She sounded very put out.

What did she have to be put out about? She wasn’t the one being wrongly accused of theft.

“Come into the store and stop making a scene. You know how much they hate it in security when there is a scene. Everyone gets all jumpy and on high alert.” The security guard says to us.

She looks at him with wide eyes. “Then next time don’t take your jolly sweet time in getting here.

” She smiles pertly at him. Yes, pertly.

I have never before used that word, but that is the exact word for it.

The “I-told-you-so,” “I-know-better,” and “You’re-going-to-be-in-trouble” looks, all rolled into one. Pertly.

He sighs and motions for me to go ahead of him. “After you, sir.”

I close my eyes and walk back into the store—the scene of the not crime, as it were. “This has all been a big mistake.”

Joe—can I call him that when he is about to falsely arrest me? Or is it Officer Moody? Anyhow, Joe nods his head, but the smirk on his face makes me think he doesn’t believe me. “Yeah, yeah. That’s what they all say.”

I tug my suitcase along beside me and clutch the strap of my backpack. I’m suddenly wishing I had just waited for the plane to empty with the old guy. That had to have been better than this, right?

“Now, what seems to be the problem, Miss Ashcombe?”

Miss Ashcombe—she seems too mean to have a cute name like Poppy—lifts her brow. “I watched this man slip gum into the side pocket of his backpack. When I asked him to pay for it, he denied it and refused to pay. He was trying to flee?—”

I cough out a grunt. “I’d hardly call that fleeing.”

Both Miss Ashcombe and Officer Moody give me bland looks.

“Anyway,” she says. “He was trying to flee when I stalled him until you got here.” She looks rather pleased with herself.

Officer Moody shakes his head. “Yeah, we’ll discuss your stalling techniques after I deal with him.” He frowns at her, and she frowns right back.

“Are you kidding me? You’re going to reprimand me?” She shakes her head. “I should have listened to my horoscope and called in sick today.”

Officer Moody’s lips quirk up. “Maybe it’s because you listened to it in the first place. You shouldn’t put so much stock in that garbage.”

She glares at him. “It’s not garbage.”

He waves her words away and turns toward me. “Will you consent to allowing me to look in your bag?”

I want to say no, out of principle. But I just want to get out of the airport. The Mexi-nese fusion food is starting to make me nauseous. And my head is throbbing. “Yeah, whatever.”

I swing my backpack onto the checkout counter and take a step back.

He sticks his giant hands in the side pockets and withdraws my lip balm. He holds it out to Miss Ashcombe. “Where did you say he put it?”

She frowns. “Maybe he moved it to his pockets?” Her voice holds less confidence than it did a few moments ago.

They both look at me. I pull my pockets inside out to show them they are empty.

“Or maybe he slipped it inside the backpack.” She lifts her hand and rubs her thumb over the purple stone at her throat.

The security guard casts me a look, and I shrug. He goes through my backpack and, after checking everything, unzips the small compartment where my gum is. He looks at me.

“I brought that with me,” I say.

He looks at her. “Did you see him open the backpack?”

She looks like she is rubbing the stone even harder. Maybe that is how it got so smooth and shiny. “No. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t.” She reaches forward and grabs the phone off the counter. Thrusting it forward, she swallows. “Here, I recorded it all.”

Joe’s eyes widen slightly. “You’re not supposed to do that,” he whispers. “Both for security and privacy reasons.”

She gives him a sheepish look and pushes the phone at him. He pushes it back.

“I can’t look at that. It’s not admissible.” He moves around the counter and fiddles beneath the counter. Holding up his own phone, he squints down at the screen. Then he looks up at Miss Ashcombe. “Geez, Poppy. ”

Her brow crinkles. She moves around the counter and peers over his arm. “What?”

“He didn’t take any gum. He used his lip balm, but that’s it. He never even touched the gum.” His head shakes. “So unless he has telekinetic powers, he couldn’t possibly have shoplifted.”

She leans in closer to the phone. “Are you sure? He looked so suspicious. And then he was fiddling around in his backpack pocket.” If that stone at her throat was flint, she would surely have a flame with how hard she was rubbing it.

She looks over at me, and I think she may be on the verge of tears. Her face is a deep, rosy hue.

I soften slightly.

“Ummm.” She licks her lips, and I can’t help but follow the path of her tongue. “I’m really sorry. I thought for sure—” her voice drops off.

I shrug, ready for this whole ordeal to be over.

“It’s no big deal. I’m sure you deal with this type of thing a lot.

And you probably get the same reactions that I gave you.

It was an honest mistake.” Man, I folded like a cheap tent.

It must be those big green eyes of hers.

Maybe they are actually kryptonite…Does that mean I’m Superman?

“Can I make it up to you?” She glances at her watch. “It’s almost my dinner break. Can I buy you dinner?” She lifts a shoulder. “I mean, here at the airport?”

I should decline. I just want to get to my hotel. But she looks so defeated. I’ve never seen her look like this—in the whole four times I’ve seen her before. I nod. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”