Eastiel looked down at himself and at the grease-stained overalls. His work boots were scuffed and worn from countless work hours. The smear of soot was still darkening his jaw.
He had forgotten to wash it off in the chaos of the afternoon, didn't he?
Fucking fu—
He was still wearing his stupid work clothes.
Dumbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaass!
Oh, what a cute little dumbass you were, Eastiel. He had been so excited. So giddy. So fucking high on the word Baby and the shopping bags and the way Cecilia had looked at him like he was the only man in the world.
He had forgotten what he was wearing. Yes, you might've thought he was nonchalant about it, but actually he was just sharing a brain cell with a street cat.
What did it look like, a man like him bringing a woman like her to shop around? A woman in an Armani gown whose purse cost more than his truck? And him, in overalls, swiping a black card that probably made the saleswomen think he had stolen it?
Stupidaaaaaaass!
