Page 66 of Break Out

“On your bike?” she asked.

“No, you’re driving, Jade.”

“You should dial it back on the aggression when you’re driving,” I suggested.

She turned just enough to give me side-eye. “And you might dial it back on the commentary, sir.”

I shook my head. “Now you’re fucking with me.”

“You started it. I’m surprised you want to come with me to the grocery store. Aren’t you headed back to Augusta the day after tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but I still have to eat. And you’re going with me to Augusta.”

She turned into the parking lot for a Super Target. “On your bike?”

“No, I’ll be on my Harley. You’ll follow me.”

That didn’t earn me side-eye, it got me one helluva dirty look. “It oughta be that you’re following me, because I got news for you, I might not be showing, but hell if I don’t have to pee like a mother all the damned time.”

I couldn’t help but grin at her choice of words.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked, pulling through an empty parking space so the SUV sat nose-out.

Once she shut down the vehicle, I unbuckled my seat belt. “Your choice of words, Jade. You have to pee like a mother because you’re soon going to be one.”

She let out a cute growl. “Let’s get this done, smart guy.”

I hustled out of the car since she made such a quick exit. Once I fell in step next to her, I said, “You’re pissed.”

“No, but now who’s got jokes, saying I’m pissed?” she asked.

I bit back my laughter and followed her inside the store. She reached out for a cart, but I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the side. “Why are you angry?”

She glanced up and over my shoulder while taking a deep breath. “I’m not angry. I’m irritated.”

I shifted to catch her gaze. “You’re splitting hairs. What’s got you ‘irritated’?”

She stared at me, looked away, and kept quiet.

“Not being on my bike,” I guessed.

She exhaled, and turned back to me. “Maybe, even if I know it shouldn’t bother me, it does. I’m sorry.”

Again, laughter threatened, and that would only irritate her further. I let go of her hand and wrapped my arm around her waist. “You have nothing to apologize for. If something bugs you, it bugs you. But you’re pregnant, I’m not putting you on my bike with a four-hour ride ahead of us.”

She took a deep breath, her tits brushing my chest. “You say things like that and I want to think you care … and maybe you do … but you aren’t going to stick around.”

I kept eye contact with her, and it nearly gutted me, but I dismissed her words. “Let’s get this done.”

Some people despised grocery shopping. If it wasn’t too crowded, most of the time it didn’t bother me. The way Simone maneuvered the cart through the aisles, she didn’t like getting groceries one iota. We had the cart half-full and from her demeanor, we couldn’t finish fast enough.

“You, uh, do a lot of grocery deliveries in college?” I asked.

She whipped her head toward me, her eyes narrowed. “Not any more than any one else.”

I did a slow nod. “Right.”

With the cart angled toward the pre-packaged salads and spinach, she turned to me. “What are you getting at?”

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