Page 81 of Where We Fall

I hand the form back to the salesperson and give him my credit card.

When it's all paid for, we get in the car and drive to the grocery store.

“What are you in the mood for tonight?” she asks me as we walk down an aisle.

She looks over at me, and I wiggle my eyebrows at her. When she puts it like that…

“Oh, geez.” She swats my chest with her hand. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

I laugh but do my best to stay focused on the mission at hand instead of how her ass looks in her jeans. I may have walked a bit slower than her a few times just to get another view.

She’s wearing a brown leather jacket and brown-heeled boots. Paired with the jeans, it’s a killer combination.

She told me she’s starting to order more clothes online now. I’m happy if she’s happy. If this outfit is her style, then I’m one lucky son of a bitch.

We are in the dairy aisle as we pick out some heavy whipping cream for the fettuccine alfredo that we’re making.

I spot whipped cream in a can, and my brain pictures spraying it all over her body and licking her clean.

“You know what I’ve always wondered,” I say as I point to the can. “Who thought of making a separate bottle strictly for sex? Have you ever seen them before?”

She shakes her head. “No, I haven’t.”

“They actually have them, and it tastes awful. I just don’t know what’s wrong with buying a regular can and using it.”

She opens the door and grabs a can.

“What’s that for?” I ask as she starts to walk away.

She stops and turns around. “Obviously, you’ve done it before and are picturing it right now with whomever you did it with. Now, we need to make another memory for you to have when you look at it.”

“Are you jealous?” I ask as I walk closer.

She shakes her head. “No. Of course not.”

We walk in silence for a minute. I don’t speak. I just watch as she walks tensely.

“Ugh, fine. I’m jealous,” she finally admits.

I wrap an arm around her shoulder. “I know you are. I think it’s cute.”

“Cute? You like me being jealous?”

“Yeah, I do. You’re not the only one. If I even think about you being with an ex, I want to punch a hole in the wall.”

“You do?” She sounds surprised as she turns to me.

“Of course. I love you. Why would I like to think of another man’s hands on you? Now, on to more important topics. When are we using the whipped cream?”

She laughs. “Tonight. If you’re lucky.”

“Is there anything I can do to help persuade you in that direction?”

“You can talk to your siblings about what happened in the meeting this week.”

“Ugh. Such a boner killer.”

Though, I have thought more about it since our talk in my office. I don’t know if I would necessarily go back and rehash anything, but maybe next time, I’ll try to speak up.

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