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Yes, please. My dirty mind takes hold and my skin flushes. Gah, I’ve been hanging around Tori for too long. I glance away from his knowing smirk, my cheeks heat as I try to smother my smile.
“Ellie,” he rasps quietly. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He discreetly adjusts himself as much as he can. “But I promise to follow through on both accounts.”
Now, my whole body is on fire. Thoughts of his skilled tongue and fingers and his promise sends an involuntary shudder through me. Jesus! I spin around and pick up bananas not caring what shape they're in. “These’ll work,” I squeak, holding them in the air, showing them off for an unknown reason. His eyebrow quirks up. My gaze darts from his amused expression to the bananas and I close my eyes. Could this be any more embarrassing? “To eat,” I quickly add. He barks out a laugh as I put them in my cart. If they weren’t bruised before, they are now. “Would you scoot out of my way so I can finish my shopping?”
“Do you have a long list?” He eyes the paper in my hand.
I scan it, no longer than twenty things and shake my head. “It’s not too long.”
“Wanna trade? He pulls out his list and shakes it in the air.” I cock my head, confused why he wants to trade lists. He shrugs one shoulder. “There is a lot you can learn about someone by their shopping habits.”
I look at it again. “There’s no earth shattering thing you'll learn about me on this paper.”
“Come on. I bet I can identify at least five things about you based on your shopping list.”
My lip twitches. “Okay. Let me add brand names…” I reach into my purse to get a pen, but he snatches the paper out of my hands.
“Nope. It’ll be fun guessing.” He hands me his list.
“Don’t complain when you can’t figure it out.” I shrug, knowing what’s on the list. It'll teach him to want to shop for a woman going in blind. “Just, no generic.”
His shoulders drop. “Woman. I got this.” He pushes his cart forward. “I’ll start at the other end. Don’t cheat and check on me. We’ll meet after we check out.”
My eyes widen. “After?”
He walks away nodding. When he turns a corner, he glances back at me. “See you at the finish line.”
Is this a race? My heartbeat picks up and I wonder if I should run the aisles. I push my cart to the end of the aisle looking for him and he’s nowhere to be seen. Ugh. I hate not having the rules.
I peek at his list and it’s as long as mine with typical things. Soap, deodorant, bacon, sandwich meat. There is no way he’ll finish before me. Half the time, men wander around with a dazed expression. I start filling up my cart with his items. When I hit the deodorant area, I stare at the selection. Oh! Choosing one is harder than I thought. I pop open a few scents, trying to find one I recognize. Giving up after smelling ten, I throw one in the cart I like. At least it doesn’t smell like the cologne the other night.
With just a couple of things left on the list, I wonder how he’s doing. I giggle to myself, he’s probably wishing he hadn’t started this whole thing. My phone dings from the seat of the cart. I dig through my purse and pull it out.
Kase: Waiting for you at the front ;)
Seriously? I jerk my head up looking down the aisle. An older lady looking at oatmeal must sense me because our eyes lock for a beat. I flash a quick smile. She returns one and continues her perusal. How is he finished? I rush getting the last few things and when I push my cart to check out, I see him sitting on a bench outside the manager’s office. He’s flashing a sly smile, with his hands folded between his legs. The fullness of the cart catches my eye and I softly gasp. I didn't have that much on my list. I throw my hands out and he shrugs. What in the world did he buy?
“Are you ready ma’am?” the cashier asks, staring at me. I apologize and set Kase’s things on the belt.
After checking out, I glide my cart up to his and he stands, slapping my wandering hand away from the bags. I didn’t see much, but I catch a glimpse of sticky notes peeking out on a few items. Where the hell did he get sticky notes?
“That can’t all be mine, my list wasn’t that long.”
“I might've bought a few extra things.”
“A few?”
A fleeting thought that he thinks I didn’t buy a lot of groceries because I can’t pay for it has me worried.
“Stop over thinking this,” he says, pushing his cart out of the store. I follow, still pushing his groceries. When we stop at my car, he pops the trunk and loads the groceries into it. “I’ll be over at six for dinner.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “What if I have to work tonight? Or I have a date?”
“You don’t have to work. Do you have a date?” His smile fades and he steps closer. In an instant, I regret the words, not knowing where they came from, the need to make him wonder if he’s the only one when there isn’t anyone I want more than him.
“No,” I whisper, our eyes lock and he stands close, blocking the sun.
“Good. I would’ve hated to miss out on a steak dinner.”
