This is the first story in a planned series (if the response is favorable).
It was Janie Edgemere's second trip to the grocery store that day and she was fed up. Fed up with the demands of ungrateful kids and a distracted husband who all seemed to believe their favorite foods magically appeared in the pantry and on the table, conjured there by sparkly elves. She wouldn't trade her family for the world, but sometimes she fantasized about running away for a week to a private island or a chateau in France—fuck, even a Hampton Inn by the freeway would do the trick. A few days to herself was all she asked, without the bottomless neediness of the people who she loved, but occasionally disliked.
She parked and stalked through the early summer heat into Tasteman's Market, trying to take deep breaths and calm down. Janie liked to be the sunshine in people's days, not the black cloud that infected others with her bad mood. Despite her irritation, she had to admit she felt good. A diet and exercise program begun in the New Year was already paying dividends; she felt strong, and her clothes fit better than they had in years. She'd gone from a size ten to a curvy six and was hoping to reach her high school weight by fall. There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a size ten, but for her, size ten meant she wasn't exercising at all and felt like crap. Lately, she felt like she could take over the universe.
Janie looked down at the outfit she'd thrown on before leaving for the store. A sleeveless sky-blue summer dress that brought out her blue eyes and a pair of strappy black high-heeled sandals. She wouldn't have been able to squeeze the dress over her ass three months ago and knew it accentuated her curves. She'd worn it two weeks before and caught the hot, young assistant store manager staring at her chest, as if hoping one of the dress' delicate buttons would pop open and reveal her boobs. The dress had gone into regular rotation after that.
Forgoing a shopping cart—she only needed milk, apples, goldfish crackers for the kids, and a six-pack for her husband—Janie strode through the store's wide double doors and felt the A/C hit her like a blast of Arctic air. Her nipples immediately hardened, and she resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. She was a woman. It wasn't a secret she had nipples. If some dude—or chick—wanted to take a peek, why should she deny them the pleasure?
Smiling, Janie entered the produce section, gave the apples a quick inspection, and decided on Honey Crisps. As she reached for a bag, her fingertips brushed a man's hand. She looked up, eyes wide, to find her neighbor smiling at her. Gabe Pearce lived three houses down from her in a Victorian he'd restored himself. He'd always been friendly, helping her husband Derek when a pipe had burst in their kitchen two Christmases ago and inviting her and the kids to take a tour of one of his job sites last spring. Gabe was an architect and had designed the new art museum downtown. He'd had a few long-term girlfriends over the years, but none of them had stuck, and he was currently single as far as she knew.
Gabe was around ten years younger than her, in his early thirties, with wavy brown hair that brushed his collar, expressive brown eyes, a jawline you could carve stone against, and a lean, athletic body she'd seen him put to good use in neighborhood soccer games. To say she had a slight crush on him was like saying Monet was pretty good at painting.
"Janie!" he exclaimed, flashing his teeth in an easy grin. "I feel like I see you whenever I come to the store."
She brushed a lock of her long brown hair behind her ear, embarrassed by the nervous leap her stomach took every time she saw him. Happily married women weren't supposed to have crushes on their neighbor. "That's because I live here, didn't you know? At night, I sleep behind the Pepsi display."
He snorted and touched her bare arm. "You're hilarious, I swear. How are Derek and the kids?"
Fighting down the shiver his touch caused, she took a deep breath and noticed his eyes stray briefly to the neckline of her dress before returning to her face. "They're fine, though they treat the grocery store like some mysterious, far-off kingdom only I am capable of venturing to."
"Yeah, I remember when I left home for college, finally appreciating all my mom had done for me."
"Did she call you and gloat?" Janie joked.
He quirked an eyebrow. "Yes, in fact, she did."
"Well, I look forward to my turn."
Gabe grinned and handed her one of the plastic produce bags, then gestured to the apples. "Ladies first."
Janie accepted the bag and chose a few apples, nearly causing an avalanche of fruit in her nervous clumsiness. Gabe stopped the cascade and began making his own choices.
"Well, I've gotta run," she said. "See you the next time you need groceries."
He gave her a slow, considering look. "You look great, Janie. Confident. And that dress really accentuates your... eyes."
"Thanks." She held the bag of apples at her side, a blush scorching her face. She wondered what he'd meant to say before settling on 'eyes.' "See you around, Gabe."
"See ya."
She turned and hurried to the next aisle, simultaneously relieved and disappointed. God, the man made her feel like she was fifteen again, nursing a crush on the boy next door. Derek was the love of her life, no matter how annoyed she might get with him sometimes, and she'd never do anything to hurt him. Thinking about Gabe was a harmless fantasy she indulged in sometimes—one she would never act on, but that sometimes made her day a little brighter. It was nothing to feel guilty about, she told herself. All married people had fantasies that didn't involve their spouse.
After she'd grabbed the milk and an industrial-sized carton of goldfish that might last her kids half a day, Janie realized she'd forgotten Derek's beer and backtracked to the middle of the store. She headed down the beer aisle, juggling her items and regretting not getting a basket. As she reached for a six-pack of Miller Lite, the ground shook slightly beneath her feet and the lights flickered overhead. "What the hell?" she yelped, as the store filled with the frightened, confused voices of other shoppers. The shaking grew more pronounced, and she tried to keep her balance as the floor roiled beneath her sandals, wondering if earthquakes were possible in Florida. At a particularly hard lurch, she lost her balance, her groceries flying from her hands.
"Janie!" she heard a male voice shout as the ground came rushing up to meet her. Then everything went black.
**
Janie woke to a pounding headache and the feel of something both hard and soft beneath her body. The air surrounding her was cold and scented with citrus and wood smoke, calling up a vivid memory of a camping trip she'd taken her junior year in high school, the trip where she'd lost her virginity to...
"Bobby Jensen," she mumbled.
"Janie, thank God! I thought you'd never wake up."
The voice was familiar, deep and smooth like honey, but tinged with uncustomary panic. She touched her fingertips to her aching head and tried to open her eyes, but they didn't seem to want to cooperate. "Gabe?" she whispered.
"Yeah, it's me."
The soft warmth beneath her head and upper body shifted, and she realized she must be lying in his lap. With a tremendous effort, she cracked her eyes open and found herself staring up into his worried face.
"What happened?" she asked.
"I don't know exactly," he said. "The last thing I remember is the ground shaking and watching you fall and crack your head on the floor in the grocery store. Then I woke up in this room with you."
She tried to pull herself upright, but Gabe stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I don't think you should sit up, Janie. Your head is bleeding."
Sighing, she settled back. She couldn't believe she was currently lying nestled in her hot neighbor's lap. "Where are we?"
