Page 25 of The Wrong Brother

“We are? That is the strangest fake date I’ve ever had presented to me. Well…it’s also the first, obviously, but still, grocery shopping?”

“Yep. It will be a good, low-pressure outing. We won’t know anyone there and if they don’t buy it, it’s not like they’ll confront us. We’ll shop together, get whatever you need, and use the public space full of strangers to get comfortable being a couple.”

“That sounds doable.”

“Do you need to make a list?”

I pull a pad off my fridge. “I keep a running list here—when I run out of an item, when I think of something I’d like to get, that sort of thing.”

He smiles with no hint of mocking in his expression. “Very organized and not at all surprising.”

“Would you mind getting my reusable bags out of that cabinet while I go grab my shoes?”

“On it.”

Rafferty stops us once we get outside, pulling out his phone. He holds it out in front of us, turning to kiss my cheek and I smile happily. It turned out really cute! He saves it as my contact photo on his phone.

“My turn!” I get my phone ready, standing in front of him. He puts his arms around me, bringing his face down close to mine and I take it before I have time to worry about how I look. I still inspect it though, standing within the circle of his arms, unable to stop myself. “I look bad but you’re hot. I should have taken one of you by yourself.” He pokes his finger in my armpit, making me jump and then he’s tickling me. “Rafferty!” He kisses my neck, his beard tickling me in a way that is less funny.

“You looked beautiful. Photos with you in them will always automatically be better.” Those butterflies stick around for the entire trip over.

Safeway is hopping. I guess that’s not surprising. This location stays busy anyway, and there are probably a lot of people like me, stopping in after work to get ingredients for dinner. Rafferty grabs a cart and I sit my purse in the child’s seat, propping the list up. He steers us to the produce section and starts choosing bell peppers. I grab tomatoes and a package of chopped kale.

“Is your shopping list matched with the layout of the store?” I blush furiously and nod. Instead of making fun of me, he cups my face with his large hand, smoothing his thumb over my cheek. “I love that. You have this organized way of making everything easier and how you do it feels like being cared for instead of having rules enforced.” He turns back to the veggies and I smile dopily. I like how he sees me.

“I’ve never shopped for groceries with someone else before. At least not since I left home. And never with a date.”

“Me either,” he admits. “That’s partially why I thought it would be good practice. It feels like a relationship activity. I’ve never reached this stage with someone.” He’s bagging a red cabbage while I gently squeeze avocados.

“Even though I was with Connor for almost all of my junior year, this isn’t the kind of thing we did. He preferred going out and if there was a task like buying groceries, he would have convinced me to do it alone because his time was always more important.”

I’m thinking about the fact that, while we’re naturally working well together, this isn’t very date-like, when Rafferty steps up behind me, putting his hand on the small of my back and putting his face close to mine. His beard rubs my cheek and his breath is warm on my skin.

He presses a kiss near my ear, “I don’t know, this feels like it could be a nice couple activity.”

I shiver at the contact. My head understands why this is necessary. It gets what the purpose is. But the thrill of that small touch and the quiet contentment I feel when I’m with him has me worried about blurring the lines. I’ll need to keep myself in check. We have established parameters and it’s important that I honor them.

We finish with the produce and begin weaving our way through the aisles. Rafferty continues to pepper the journey with little touches, jokes, and the lightest brushes with his lips. It’s shocking to me that he’s single. This man was made for relationships. He’s attentive and sensitive and I’d have to be legally blind to miss the way every woman we pass stares at him. We’re halfway through our shopping before I realize I need to up my game. I think anyone who sees us would assume we’re a couple, but that’s only because of Rafferty. I’ve been focused on shopping and receiving his attention, but I’ve been letting him down. Practice or not, Rafferty deserves to feel cared about too.

He’s standing, looking at the list, and I wrap my arms around him from behind, resting my cheek against his back. I hold the hug long enough to feel comforted by it and release him, stepping around to grab chickpeas. I flash him a smile but something in his eyes makes me want to say more. Just because we’re practicing doesn’t mean it’s hard to be with him.

“I like spending time with you.”

“Me too, Catherine.”

We’re stopped in the cereal aisle, considering the options. I’m not a big cereal eater but I do enjoy the crunch of granola with yogurt. I select one I like and spin around to find Rafferty directly in front of me. I want to initiate this time. I toss my granola into the cart and run my fingers over his soft beard, pulling his face down to mine. The touch of his lips is light, warm. I adjust my face, opening my mouth slightly and running the tip of my tongue along his upper lip. His tongue touches mine and the small change has sparks radiating from my center. He boxes me in, his arms braced on the shelves on either side of me and everything on the periphery fades away. We’re not full-on making out in the aisle, it’s a sweet kiss, and the sweetness hits me hard. I pull back the littlest bit, looking into his eyes. No glance from Rafferty is light. He always looks deeply and this one is no exception. He runs his nose along mine, kissing me again, before pulling back to smile at me. We’re standing, my hands still on his face, looking intently at each other, when I hear a voice that makes my blood run cold and gives me a hard knot of anxiety.

“CAT?”

Rafferty takes in the panicked widening of my eyes and kisses me, softly. My stomach is suddenly leaden and I can feel my pulse picking up. He whispers against my lips, giving me a small measure of peace, “I’m right here. You’re good.”

He pulls back and I turn my head, taking in the sight of Pressley, sashaying toward us. Her long brown hair is pulled into a high ponytail and her heavy makeup is immaculate. She looks like she just left the country club, glossy and manicured, reeking of wealth. She’s smiling at us but I know that smile well. It’s predatory. My hands start to shake at the sight.

“What are the odds I’d run into you?”

“I’m not sure, Pressley. Do you live around here?” I can hear the slight quiver in my voice and I will myself not to show her I’m weak.

“Here?” Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “No. Never. We’re out in Hawai‘i Kai.” She emphasizesweas if either of us cares that she lives with Connor.

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