Page 66 of Tank’s Weakness

“I’m big on citrus too.” I smile as I grab what I need.

The rest of the shopping trip goes the same. I ask him if he prefers a brand and discover that he really doesn’t have a preference on much. Which is nice. It means that I don’t have to change anything to accommodate his likes.

Not on this at least.

“Anything else?” he asks once the cart is loaded down with supplies.

I bite my lip as I run through my list. “Everything is checked off.”

“But…”

I look up at him and bat my eyes. “But I would love to go look at the candles if you aren’t in a rush.”

“Let’s go.” He starts pushing the cart toward that side of the store without skipping a beat.

For a second, I hang back and watch him with a smile on my face.

This man.

I already knew he was the opposite of Blaine in every way, but it’s moments like this that remind me of that fact. Blaine would have never come to the store with me. Not without protest at least. He didn’t like cleaners with any smell at all. He would throw a fit if I bought anything that wasn’t name brand because he thought it made us look cheap and he was massively against candles. Again, he didn’t like things that smelled.

Blaine just wanted a sad beige kind of life.

Meanwhile, Tank is game for whatever I want.

He realizes I’m not next to him and stops. He looks over his shoulder and raises a brow.

“Are we looking at candles or what?” he asks.

Smiling, I walk toward him. When I come up next to him, I pop up on my toes, kissing his jaw. He let’s go of the cart and holds onto my hip. He dips down and steals a kiss, and I can’t help but make a small sound.

“Don’t look,” someone mutters, breaking us apart.

We watch as a mother walks by us, glaring as she covers her child’s eyes.

“We were just kissing,” Tank mutters under his breath, making me giggle.

“She’s probably divorced or bitterly single and jealous that we are so happy,” I tease.

Tank smiles so wide the corners of his eyes crinkle. “We are happy, aren’t we?”

“I think so.”

“Me too,” he murmurs, still smiling.

“Come on, we’re standing in the middle of the aisle blocking traffic.”

We head to the candle aisle, and I instantly start browsing them.

“So candles, I’m assuming you don’t have any preference,” I joke.

Tank chuckles. “Not really, no, but Jane, who works in the office at the shop, just put a candle in the bathroom that smells like apples. It’s fucking awesome.”

Immediately, I start browsing the apple ones, taking the lids off, smelling them one by one before I hand them over to him.

“This one,” he says, holding up a candle.

I look at the label and smile. “I love apple fritter. It’s a solid choice. I usually burn it in the fall.”