But I put my phone away for now. I’m in a grocery store that specializes in all things gourmet. Plus, they’re notorious for giving away the best samples at the end of every single aisle. A win-win if youaskme.
“Technically, this will be our first dinner date since I plan to load up on all the freebies I can,” I say as he pulls a cart from thequeue.
“I’d say you sound like a cheap date, but I have a feeling this place is about to set me back a notch.” He gives aquickwink.
“I’ll go in halves with you. We should probably keep things Dutch anyway, you know, not to muddy the waterstoomuch.”
“I think it’s pretty safe to say the waters are pretty muddy at this point. And don’t worry. I’ve got this. Despite the fact my father lost his shirt, my trust fund came outunscathed.”
“Ooh, a fellow trust fund baby!” I give a little hop. “It turns out we have more in common than I first thought. My father is a real estate magnet in New York. He owns properties around the country as well.” I shrug it off as if it were no big billion-dollar deal. “His wealth doesn’t define me, though. I won’t let it. I’ve seen what it’s done to him and mymother.”
“Are they still together?” Knox looks hopeful as if this might be good news, and trust me, it wouldhavebeen.
“Nope. They bit the dust ages ago. I guess that’s why I tried to hang onto Justin long after I probably should have kicked him to the curb. I just wanted something solid that would last. It seems to work for everyone else. Maybe my family is just jinxedthatway.”
He pauses a moment in front of the organic bananas and I pop a small bunch intothecart.
“That’s exactly how I felt. My parents not getting along came out of nowhere, and before I knew it, my mother was being carted off toprison.”
I freeze with my hand out just as I’m about to squeeze atomato.
“It’s a long story.” He shakes it off. “Anyway they’re divorced and I’m not dwelling on it. I guess that whole happily ever after thing is just forfairytales.”
“I guess you’re right.” Suddenly, I’m far too dejected to squeeze anything setbeforeme.
“How about we forget all about love and exes and the horror stories from our past and just go crazy trying to satisfy our appetite? As in food.” I glare at him a moment. Just because he’s wounded doesn’t change the fact he’s a guy with a very real time bomb between his legs that needs to go off routinely as a part of itsmaintenance.
His cheek slides up one side, sly and seductive, as if he’s just read my thoughts. “Sounds likeadeal.”
We drop all of the organic veggies and fruits into the cart that we can before we end up staring at the wall of magical pleasure otherwise known as the cheeseaisle.
“You simply don’t get a variety like this at the tiny supermarket they’ve jammed in the corner of the bookstore,” I say, picking up a golden piece of Gouda and taking in its heavenly smoky scent. “You know—I consider myself a flexible vegan. I’d go all the way, but I can’t seem to commit due to my love for all things curdled. Does Gouda soundgoudatoyou?”
He makes a face. “Now that’s a cheesy one-liner.” He takes the brick of cheese from me. “Are you kidding? I love this stuff on toasted sourdough—San Francisco style, of course. And I don’t mind it sprinkled on my margherita pizza,either.”
“Finally, a man who speaks my language—formaggio to be exact.” We head to the frozen aisle and find all kinds of gluten-free vegan pizzas—which we shall soon corrupt with all things Gouda. “Oh my God.” I yank a box from the shelf. “This one has been blessed withtruffles!”
“Truffles?” Knox lets out a guttural groan as if he’s craved the fungus all his life. “We’d better get six boxes just tobesafe.”
“God, Iloveyou.”
Knox and I sail from aisle to aisle, experiencing food porn like never before, moaning and groaning, filling up our cart with the yummiest, and dare I say priciest treats known to man. “What should we get to drink?” I ask as we eye the beautifully shaped bottles in a rainbow of pastels that adorn the beverageaisle.
“Pellegrino,” we say in unison and share a quicklaugh.
“You’re a food snob and I love it,” I say, loading us up with sixbottles.
He steps in close, warming me with his body heat, and his eyes settle over mine as if there was no place else they’d rather be. Knox purses those lips and accidentally sets off an entire throng of butterflies in my stomach. Funny, I don’t ever remember Justin setting off anything in my stomach other thannausea.
“How do you feel about caviar?” he says it low and husky, and about ten different girls in the vicinity sigh inunison.
“Are you kidding?” I swear on all that is holy, I almost just replicated that mini orgasm I had on his bed right here in front of God and S. Pellegrino. “Hell yes, I love it. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I nod toward the refrigerated section onceagain.
“Let’s do it. We just had the most miserable week of our lives. I say we deserve a littletreat.”
We find a small variety of tiny bottles the shape and size of a silver dollar and settle on the mid-priced brand that features sturgeon. And both Knox and I groan as I place it intothecart.
“I can practically taste the beautiful salty goodness popping over my tongue.” I take a step in close to him and a hand interjects itselfbetweenus.
