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The only reason she needed a toothbrush at all was because her journey to get here had been a complete disaster. What was supposed to be an easy two-hour flight from Houston had turned into a twelve-hour ordeal. Cora and her fellow passengers had to deplane and switch aircrafts because of mechanical issues. Twice. Then they were rerouted because of air traffic control, and had to land and refuel at a nearby airport while they waited out a storm. The fact that they'd arrived at their final destination, even if it was ten hours late, felt like a miracle.

Her luggage, however, hadn't shared the same good fortune.

In fact, at the moment the airline wasn't exactly sure where it was. But of course they would locate it (they wouldn't use the word find because they insisted it wasn't lost, simply unaccounted for), and as soon as they did, it would be delivered to her. She should expect to have it in a couple of days. Three at the most.

So here she was. Replacing things that the airline couldn't locate.

She trudged through the aisles of the deserted store in the direction of the dental care section, leaving a sort of Hansel-and-Gretel trail of water behind her.

Did she need more than a toothbrush? Probably. All she had was what she was wearing and a camera case full of her professional camera equipment. Knowing what she knew now, she'd made the right call to carry on the heavy camera case and check her clothes. Photography wasn't just her profession (which she'd be doing during her stay because the commercial photography industry didn't pause for ridiculous family obligations). It was her passion. But her luggage choice did leave her in a bit of a predicament. She was on a four-week beach vacation without anything to wear to the actual beach.

She paused in front of a rack of cover-ups. "I probably need one of these," she said out loud.

Squinting slightly with serious consideration, she studied the options. Neon palm tree or the bedazzled option emblazoned with Sun, Sand & Surf?

"Palm tree," she decided and draped the find over her arm. The endcap next to it had flip-flops in bright coordinating colors, so she grabbed a pair of those, too. After all, one couldn't exactly go to the beach without flip-flops, could they?

With her beach outfit taken care of, she cruised back to the wall of toothbrushes. Wiping some of the dripping rainwater off her face, she scanned the options. She was reaching for one when a deep voice interrupted her.

"I wouldn't go with that one, if I were you."

The voice made her jump, mostly because she hadn't realized there was anyone else in the store besides the gum-popping clerk. With her hand still reaching for the toothbrush, she did a quick sweep of the store to see if there was anyone else she'd missed before settling her gaze on the man standing next to her. Where had he come from?

He was tall and had an athletic build that, although she hated to admit it, looked good in jeans. His dark wavy hair had the unmistakable mix of good genes and an expensive haircut, and his deep blue eyes twinkled. He reminded her of Gatsby, all charm and confidence with a healthy dose of swagger. It was the kind of thing most people probably found attractive.

Cora did not.

"I'm sorry?" Her tone was less asking him to repeat himself and more encouraging him to check himself, although he appeared to hear the former.

"Toothbrushes," he clarified, gesturing to the product her hand was now touching. "You really should go with the two pack. Extra soft. It's the better choice."

Cora was a thirty-one-year-old successful business owner. She might look like a wet mess at the moment, and maybe she had arrived at the point in a particularly bad day where she was narrating her life to stay sane, but that didn't mean she needed some random dude to mansplain a toothbrush selection to her. Who did he think he was?

"And what? You're, like, a toothbrush expert?"

Was the comment uncalled for? Probably. But keeping her opinions to herself had never really been Cora's thing. It was something she probably should work on, but she didn't want to. Not if there were guys like this still floating around.

Gatsby flashed a half-hitched grin, which he probably used to make people swoon. "More of a connoisseur, really."

She didn't mean to roll her eyes, they just sort of did it on their own. "I, along with everyone else with an olfactory sense, thank you for that choice."