Page 46 of Born to Make You Smile

I rolled my eyes with a snort. “Gavin. That’s quite the undertaking for...”

He raised his brows, urging me to continue.

“For someone who can barely boil an egg.” I chuckled.

“I can make scrambled eggs and beans, and I can grill meats!” he proclaimed proudly, his hands on his hips.

“Well, I’d stick to that, Master Chef.”

He gently nudged me with his elbow, and I nudged him right back while we both laughed. We were shamelessly flirting like a couple of teenagers.

“Hello, you two!” shouted Darlene, waving to us from behind the checkout counter.

Gavin and I both said hello to the warm familiar face. Darlene had wild brown hair and a crooked smile that could light up all the hearts in the city. She’d worked at the Woodland Market for as long as I could remember.

“So you’re making a cake?” Gavin asked while I grabbed a small cart. “For me?”

I rolled my eyes with a smirk. “For Dorina. It’s her birthday on Sunday. I’m making her tres leches.”

“Sounds delicious. Even though I have no idea what that is.”

“It’s a sponge cake soaked in milk. Three milks. So that’s what I need to pick up; otherwise, the cake is just sponge cake.”

“Which is also very good. Especially if you’re the one making it.”

I blushed and pushed the cart down the aisles. It was so strange to do such a domestic task together. We were being silly and playful. At one point, he deliberately stood in my way, and I had to gentlyboophim with the cart.

“What do you need?Asparagus?” I teased.

He shook his head. “Very funny.”

If there was one food Gavin truly hated, it was asparagus.

“Putrid stem of a vegetable.”

I snorted.

Gavin put a few things in the cart—some bananas, milk, and a tub of peanut butter. As I went to put a can of condensed milk in the cart, I noticed a jar of pink pickled turnips nestled together with my things.

“These turnips better be foryou,” I said, holding up the jar to his face with my nose turned up.

“Whatever makes you think I put those in there? It must have been your subconscious urge to want to love them.” He raised his brows several times.

He probably did that on purpose, knowing my distaste for turnips. He’d grown them in his backyard one year. As far as I was concerned, they were a waste of precious garden space, and I had told him so.

Shaking my head at him, I put the turnips back on a random shelf. At one point, his arm brushed mine, and my body tensed, but I tried to ignore the sudden infusion of warmth and put my focus on what else I needed.

It was a small market—only a couple of aisles—and before we knew it, we were at the checkout counter. I started with my items, keeping Gavin’s separate.

“Grace, you are growing up too fast for my liking. You make me feel ancient!” said Darlene, scanning my items. “Are you guys together?”

“No, no,” I said swiftly, then understood her comment was in reference to the groceries. “Separate, please.”

However, when I went to swipe my credit card, it was declined.

“I’m sorry, hun. Try it again. Sometimes these machines act up.”

Shit.This could not be happening to me right now.

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