Page 41 of On the Double

“It was a mistake.”

“Yes, a happy mistake. This is gonna be good,” he said, shoving me out of the way as he pushed the cart on. “I need to use those avocados anyway.” He stopped and turned to me with a frown. “Do you think the town will think there’s something wrong with us?”

“Why?”

“Because we’ve been in the grocery store a lot lately. People will start to talk.”

“About our food consumption?” I asked, looking at him strangely.

“You’re right. If anyone asks, we’ll tell them we’re opening a food pantry.” He stopped and looked back at me. “We’re not. Just so we’re clear.”

“Okay,” I said mockingly. Not that he caught the sarcastic tone in my voice. I hurried behind him so I didn’t look like an idiot, standingin the produce section, staring at another man walking away. “So, say we’re having this barbecue?—”

“We are,” he assured me.

“What else would we have there?”

“Shawarma.”

“What else?” I asked irritatedly. “Not everyone likes shawarma.”

When he stopped and turned to me questioningly, you would have thought I kicked his puppies and told him they were all ugly. “What do you mean?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Who doesn’t like shawarma? It’s delicious, nutritious, and the most amazing thing ever. Why would someone not like it?”

His voice was raised to levels that would draw attention from everyone in the store. “No one,” I said hurriedly. “I was…I was just teasing.”

I seriously thought he was going to start crying. How could one man be so upset over a few words? It was unbelievable.

A huff of laughter left his lips and his bright eyes dried. “Phew! You really had me going there for a minute.”

As he hurried off, I found myself taking a deep breath, grateful I had sidestepped that landmine. Fox could be so sensitive sometimes. I just never figured whether or not someone liked shawarma would be a hot-button topic.

We wound our way through the store, quickly filling up our cart. I barely listened as Fox rambled on and on about the best ways to cook shawarma, even testing me at times about my love for it. In truth, I thought it was okay, but I wasn’t in love with it like he was. Still, I didn’t want any more panicked looks from him, so I gushed about it as much as he did.

But the whole time, my mind was on the vixen who had stolen my attention last night. I really needed to find someone at a bar and get laid. It was just so damn hard in such a small town. When we finally got in line—her line—I towered over everyone else, staring at my woman at the register.

My woman?

I gritted my teeth, shaking my head. This was all wrong. She wasn’t my woman and I wasn’t going to start thinking of her as mine. This barbecue was the wrong thing to do, and I definitely wasn’t inviting her. What the hell was I thinking?

“We’re leaving,” I said to Fox.

“Right, after we pay.”

“No, now,” I ordered, pushing the cart backward a few feet, but he stopped me.

“Uh…I don’t know what savagery this is, but in civilized society, we pay for our food.”

“We’re not getting it. Just leave it.”

His eyes widened in horror. “You mean, all those refrigerated goods…you just want to leave them in the cart?”

“Someone will put them away. Let’s just leave.”

He gripped the cart harder, refusing to budge. But the front of the line was closing in on us, and soon it would be our turn. I had to leave now.

---