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“I never expected a damn thing in my life.” I stood up and jammed my finger into the top of my desk. “I never expected to fall in love with someone that I would die for. That woman is my entire life. Without her, I don’t have one, and I’m not wasting time to make her my wife because of some dumb fucking kid who smashed into her during a police chase.”
“Nobody said you were going—”
“Is everything okay in here?” Charlotte asked as she stood in the doorway.
“Yeah. Everything is good. We’re just having a brotherly chat,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later, Jackson.”
“Yeah.” He turned and walked out of my office.
“How’s it going?” I asked her.
“It’s going okay. I thought we could get out of here and go to the grocery store. I noticed there’s barely any food in the house.”
“Yeah. We can do that.”
“Okay. What time is my car being delivered?” she asked.
“The dealership said they’d deliver it around four o’clock.”
She glanced at her watch. “So, in a couple of hours. We better get going.”
“Okay. I’m right behind you.”
“One more thing,” she spoke. “I thought maybe you could take me out on a date tonight.”
“Really?” The corners of my mouth curved upward.
“Yeah. Why not.” She smiled.
“Hold on a second.” I reached into my back pocket, took out my wallet, and opened it. “Yeah. I have some extra cash. I suppose I could take you out on a date. Just don’t pick anywhere expensive.”
She laughed as she shook her head. “You’re such a douchebag.”
“You know it, babe.” I grinned. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
CHAPTER26
Conner
I stared at her from behind as she walked in front of the shopping cart, tossing things into the cart that she didn’t eat anymore. I quickly took them out of the cart and put them back on the shelves.
“What are you doing?” She stopped, turned around, and I accidentally hit her with the cart. “Ouch. Damn, Conner.”
“You shouldn’t have abruptly stopped. I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault.”
“What the hell happened to the things I put in the cart?”
“You don’t eat that stuff.”
“Yes, I do.”
“The twenty-four-year-old Charlotte might have, but the almost thirty-four Charlotte doesn’t.”
She stood there and glared at me. “Okay, fine. Then you do all the shopping and put what the almost thirty-four-year-old Charlotte likes in the cart.”
“I will.” I opened the container of blueberries, picked one up, and tossed it at her, hitting her in the back of the head.
She ran her hand down the back of her head, and I quietly chuckled. Picking up another blueberry, I tossed it at her.
