Page 55 of These Deadly Vows

“He didn’t say.”

“And if I need to reach him?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“And here I thought you love my company.”

“I mean, you’re hot as shit to look at.”

I shake my head and look at the list. I’ve never shopped for groceries a day in my life. I snort seeing the first item. A bikini. “Is there a pool?”

“Yeah. On the roof. One of the best in the city.”

“Really?”

He smirks. “Maybe if you didn’t sleep all day, you’d get out of this apartment more and explore the building.”

“I don’t sleep all day.”

He arches a brow. “I’m going to smoke. Be ready to go in ten.”

“That’s not enough time,” I protest, but he’s already going out on the balcony.

Jerk.

I rush upstairs to find something to wear. I settle on an off-white scoop neck sleeveless top paired with my wide leg black pants. I know there’s no way we’re going on a bike with the extensive list I’ve been given. I hope my husband doesn’t think I’m going to be preparing any of the food. I don’t cook and have never had to clean. Not that I think I’m too good for it, but I was brought up with the privilege of never needing to learn.

I grab my phone and meet Axe by the elevator.

We take one of the many black SUVs in the parking garage.

I’m sure we look like quite an odd pair as we enter Target. Me in my designer clothes and Axe in his leather and denim. I’m trying not to panic. I don’t know what half the items on the list are and wonder how pissed Ghost would be if I hired a caterer.

“This will go quicker if we divide and conquer. I’ll get my swimsuit and you can handle whatever this is.” I rip my part of the list off the top and extend the rest toward my shadow.

“Some of this we’ll get from the butcher, but we’ll stop there last.”

“I have a better idea. You go shopping and I’ll call up Carla and meet her for a late lunch.”

“Nice try, sweet cheeks.”

“Sweet cheeks?”

“Yeah. You’ve got a sweet ass.”

I glare at him.

“What? I can’t compliment you?”

“What will my husband think?”

“I reckon he’d say he agrees.” He grins.

“Ugh.” I scrunch my nose and grab one of the red baskets.

“Do you think we’re going to fit all this shit into one tiny basket?” He laughs harder and fetches a shopping cart. “We stick together. I’ve got my orders.”

“I know what you can do with your orders,” I mutter under my breath and take over, pushing the cart. We stop in the clothing section first because picking out a swimsuit will probably take me the longest.

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