Page 100 of Feels Like Home

He pulls into a Walgreens and shoots me agrin.

He stares at me for a few beats, squeezing my hand a couple of times. “Wait here,alright?”

I look around us. “Why? What are youdoing?”

“I’ll be right back, then I’llexplain.”

“You’re really confusing me rightnow.”

He smiles softly and leans over to kiss me. It’s short and sweet. He rubs his nose against mine before leaning back and grabbing the door handle. “It’ll be perfectly clear in just a few minutes. Ipromise.”

I nod my head, sitting quietly in the cab of the pickup while he strides into the store. I watch as the clerk in the front watches him enter. She stands up straighter and smooths her ponytail.Bitch.

These stupid hormones of mine are all over the place right now. Getting older sucks sometimes. And lately, I can’t seem to get a hold of my emotions. I have had the fleeting thought that I’m going through menopause early, but that can’t be it. I’m barely over the age offorty!

I lose sight of Andy when he turns down an aisle. I worry my lip, wondering what he’s doing in the store, what he’s buying. I’m also getting increasingly concerned over the fact that I feel so crappylately.

As soon as Andy makes his way to the front of the store again and places his basket on the counter, the clerk’s shoulders fall. His grin is wide as he pays then knocks his knuckles twice on the counter, grabbing the plastic handles of the bag and makes his way back to thepickup.

He jumps into the cab and winks at me, placing the bag in the backseat. He stares at me for a moment, the grin covering his face making my hacklesrise.

“What?”

“I could feel you watching me the entiretime.”

“I wasnot!”

He’s so irritatingly confident. But, he has reason to be. He turns heads everywhere hegoes.

“Youwere.”

“You’re such abrat!”

“Men aren’t brats, Christine.” He’s smirking while he shakes his head in mockdisappointment.

I cross my arms over my chest and try my best to glare at him. “Well looky there, you’re defying the odds because you absolutely are a brat. A cocky brat,too.”

“Cranky,” heteases.

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t becrankyif you weren’t sosecretive.”

“Fine. I see you’re not going to snap out of it until I prove to you why I’m so happy and you have no reason to becranky.”

He reaches into the back seat and hands me the bag. Before I can look inside, he pulls me over to him, meeting my lips with his in a kiss that makes my toes curl. He turns his head to the side, and I lean closer, damning the center console for being in theway.

His tongue slides against mine. I nibble on his bottom lip, and he groans, igniting a fire deep in my belly. We’re sitting in the middle of a Walgreen’s parking lot, making out like a couple of teenagers, and I have no cares to give. I hope that clerk is watching us, turning green withjealousy.

And apparently, I’m a sixteen-year-old.

We separate when we need to break for air, and he smiles, biting his lower lip. I love when he does that. It’s endearing and sexy and everythingAndy.

“I only have eyes for you, Christine. Not the Walgreens check out girl. Not some mom from the boys’ school. Not the lady from the mall who was helping me when we were getting jeans for the boys. Only you. You have no reason to worry. No reason to be jealous. Never forget that,yeah?”

I’m a puddle of mush when I reply a watery, “Yeah.”

Once I’m settled back in my seat, I look down at the bag still resting in mylap.

“You got something for me inthere?”

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