Page 37 of Stuck With You
Krissy’s head tips back, and laughter tumbles out. “You know, when I was a teen, I caught him—”
“Krissy,” Slade growls a warning.
She grins.
I need to tiptoe right out of this little situation. “Thank you for offering, but—”
“Oh no, he’s going anyway. You can’t take the bus.” She glances at him, waiting for him to agree, but he remains silent. She continues unaffected by his apparent annoyance. “Careful, though. The idea of dropping a sugary treat in his cart sends him into a spiraling meltdown of how processed sugar affects your body.”
She pats him on the shoulder. “He’ll be glad to help out.”
“Kris,” he states as if daring her to say one more word.
“Ok, well, off to bed.” She turns for their house. “I have to work tonight, warden, but meeting the doc for a quick . . .” She trails off, making her way across the street.
Slade runs a hand over his face as if he’s pulling himself back from the brink of mass internal destruction.
“I really like her,” I say, swinging Frankie back to my hip.
“She never stops,” he grumbles.
“Hey, thanks for stopping over.” I whip a finger pistol at him and start backing toward the house, needing him to get on with his day. The idea of grocery shopping with him makes my stomach quiver and roll. “Come on, bud.” I wave to Ollie, saying a silent prayer that he comes willingly without mentioning the B-word again.
“Sarah.” It’s bellowed in that commanding way.
I have to bite my tongue to suppress the desire to ruffle his fabricated calm facade.
I halt my retreat, fully aware of those bright green eyes searing into me from underneath the rim of his hat.
“I’ll be over in five to load the car seats.” He turns, not giving me even a second to respond.
I watch his big body stalk back across the street while my own fills with absolute dread for what’s ahead.
Frankie rests her head on my shoulder.
Ollie’s hand slips into mine. “Mama, can we s-still ride the bus?”
I inhale and let it out. There is absolutely no bright side to any of this. It’s just a dark, gloomy, never-ending suck fest.
I turn for the house. “What do you think about a bigtruck instead?”
Chapter 8
SARAH
If he follows me around this store, I will lose my ever-loving shit. My neck burns, and my armpits spew sweat as I slowly push the cart through the produce section.
Slade is at my six, creeping along behind me as if the bins of fruits and veggies can camouflage the big behemoth. I need him to get to shopping.
I scan colorful fruit, looking for the yellow sale signs. Frankie reaches over the edge of the shopping cart and pats the shiny apples.
“C-can we get these?” Ollie holds up a net full of clementines.
I eye the price sign, nod, and he drops them in the cart. I grab a bunch of bananas and a bag of apples, mentally calculating my running total, knowing milk and yogurt are a must.
I replace the coffee beans I’d thrown in back on the end cap and push forward.
“I’ll meet you at the front.” Slade’s low voice pulls me out of my tentative mission.
