Page 112 of Keeping a Warrior

He flipped her off behind her back as she disappeared around the corner, then shoved his cart in the opposite direction, past endless varieties of ketchup, of mustard. Some insipid music played overhead, which Rhys suddenly realized was the Muzak version of the song he and Devon had danced to the night of the banquet.

A dance that seemed like a lifetime ago.

Making sure his cart was pulled well over to the side of the aisle in case Sequined Kitten happened by, Rhys braced his elbows on the handle and hung his head. What was he even doing here, shopping for food he didn’t want or need?

Anything to avoid his silent phone. After leaving Lani’s apartment, Rhys had snatched it up to call Devon, but just as he was about to punch the button, he stopped.

What if I end up begging her to stay? What if I make her have to choose?

Not trusting himself, and with a monumental effort, he’d put it away. What he needed to do was fade into the background while Devon took these next steps. It was her life, her career, and at this juncture he’d just be in the way. If she called him, well, they’d see where they went from here.

But she didn’t call. And so he’d come to the store.

With a sigh, Rhys straightened from his slouch and trudged his way toward the next aisle over. When he saw what it contained, he gave a giant shudder. Really?

“Well, hey, Chair Force.”

The voice behind him startled him so badly, Rhys gave a decidedly undignified yelp as he spun around, only to trip over his own feet when he saw who it was smiling at him.

“You okay?” Laughing, Devon crossed her arms over her chest and propped her hip against a gaudy display of Pop-Tarts.

“Yeah.” His heart tripping a mile a minute, Rhys shoved his trembling hands in his pockets. “Just having a bit of a Hurt Locker moment here, I think.”

Devon glanced over his shoulder at the cereal aisle behind him, and grimaced. “Life imitating art, I guess.”

She bit her lip as Rhys took a tentative step toward her, then another, at last reaching out to run the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “Hey, soldier girl. What’re you doing here?”

Her eyes crinkled at him. “Looking for you,” she said softly. “You went dark on me.”

“I—”

Words failed him as he suddenly realized how she might have read his silence—as his way of telling her he’d gotten back together with Lani after all.

No!

Panicked, the only thing he could think to do was cup her cheeks in his hands and lean down to kiss her. He didn’t devour her, but kept it gentle, a light caress of his lips on hers. “Love you,” he breathed. “Mean it.”

With a sigh, she melted into him, sliding her arms up around his neck. “Oh, yeah.”

Tilting his head, Rhys dove feverishly into the kiss this time, his senses full of the eagerness of her mouth, the hot slickness of her tongue.

He slid his hands down over her ass cheeks and pulled her even more tightly against him, the smell of her soap, the softness of her hair, about to drive him out of his mind...

“Disgusting. Get a room.”

They broke apart to see Sequined Kitten glaring at them, her lips pressed tightly together.

“Lady...” Rhys started to say, then felt Devon’s cool fingers slide down his arm to link with his.

“Let’s go,” she said, laughing, and they ran out of the store, hand in hand.

The Imperial Beach streets were dark, and quiet, a fine marine layer hanging in the air. They wandered in silence for long minutes, until at last Devon sank down to a curb and pulled him to sit next to her.

Sliding his arm around her, he pulled her close, feeling her heave a sigh before she dropped her head to his shoulder. At last, steeling himself, he whispered, “When do you leave?”

“I’m not.”

It was said so offhandedly that for a moment Rhys wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “What?”