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With Darrell’s body.
“What bat? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say aloud, picking up a random jar and pretending to read the label.
Lara releases a breath of disbelief. Shaking her hand, she wiggles my arm. “You owe me a new one.”
Placing the jar back, I turn to her. “You won’t be needing one. Anyone who breaks into my house has to get through me to get to you, and we’ll be at my parents’ cabin most weekends.” I pause, thinking about how often my family actually stays there. “Half the week, to be honest, but while we’re there, you’re even safer.”
Her steps falter at my words, and the corner of her lip disappears into her mouth.
“This is really fast, Michael.” She breathes. “You protected me, and I will always be grateful and won’t ever tell,” she promises, her words coming in a low whisper. “But this is moving fast, like, really fast.” Her eyes flicker nervously up and down the aisle.
Tugging her around to face me, I step closer, leaving very little space between us. Keeping hold of her hand, I raise the other, laying it in the middle of her chest. “Tell me you don’t feel this,” I challenge.
Lara remains silent, her gaze dropping down.
“Look at me, and tell me,” I order.
Her watery eyes snap back up, and her chin quivers as she gives me a small headshake. “I can’t.” I barely hear her words.
“This thing between us is exactly that, between us. Fuck other people and what they think. I claimed you the minute I saw you. I was just too stubborn to admit it to myself.” Pressing a light kiss to the tip of her nose, I add, “You’re mine, Lara, just as much as I’m yours.”
Lara takes a jittery breath, exhaling a heavy sigh. Blinking quickly, she wets her lips. At the sight of her tongue, I press my mouth to hers.
I feel the way her chest rises and falls quickly beneath my hand. I trail it up her body, loving the way she shivers. Gripping the back of her neck, I hold her still and devour her mouth, only pulling awaywhen I feel her body go languid, the fight leaving her quickly.
Satisfied, I grab the cart again and tug her down the rest of the aisle, her taste on my lips making me want more.
Rounding the corner, we enter another aisle.
“How long are you staying there?” Lara asks, breaking the thick silence between us.
“We,” I stress, “should only be there for tonight. Why?”
Lara shrugs.
We’ve stopped to browse the cereal; Captain Crunch seems to have her attention.
“Add it to the cart, baby.”
“No,” she answers in a rush.
Letting go of her hand, I move the cart to the side, not wanting to block the aisle. Stepping up behind her, I soothe my hands under my jacket that’s far too big on her, and hold her hips. Breathing in her smell, I love how it’s mixed with mine, and kiss the back of her neck.
“Princess,” I encourage.
“It’s nothing, it doesn’t matter.”
“Everything about you matters to me,” I remind her.
Her forefinger traces the letters on the box.
“I wasn’t allowed to eat these foods growing up . . . wasn’t allowed to eat much, actually.”
My heart seizes. Someone like Lara isn’t supposed to go hungry.
“My mother married for money. She was terrified Dad would find her ugly and upgrade for a newer, younger wife. Her looks were all she had. But ugly is ugly,” she insists, turning her head to me.
“It is,” I agree. The thought of a small and hungry Lara makes me homicidal on a level I’ve never felt before.
