Ian’s idea of “getting out of here” was going to the farmers’ market on the riverfront and buying vegetable matter.It was strangely domestic in a way that should have been boring or disappointing but gave Sam a secret thrill instead.Which led to him mostly trying not to overthink what it meant that Ian wanted to shop for food with him.
To think or not to think, that was the question.
Come to think of it, the real problem was just overthinking.
I think.
Possibly he should stop thinking about it now.He looked down at the shopping bag he was holding.It didn’t offer much in the way of alternative topics for thought.
We’re playing house.
No you aren’t, he just needed to go shopping.
Seriously, don’t ruin this for me.Let’s play house.
He sighed in resignation.
“What are you thinking about?”Ian asked him suddenly.He held apples in his hands—judging the merits of different varieties?Sam didn’t know; he’d been too busy playing house with himself to pay attention.
“Nothing,” he squeaked when Ian stared at him.
“Huh.Looks like you’re so busy thinking about nothing you can’t give me your opinion on apples.”
“The red ones are better,” Sam said hastily.
Ian looked down at the fruit in his hands.“They’re both red.”
“No, that one’s red,” Sam waved his hand at the right apple, “and that one’s green with red splotches.”
Ian grunted curiously, like a caveman who’d just discovered the wheel.He started to put down the red and green apple.
“Wait!”Sam said.“The red and green ones are better.The all-red are too sweet.”
Ian scrunched his brow.“Then why’d you say the red one?”
Dammit, he’d been found out.“I wasn’t paying attention,” he mumbled.
Ian smirked at him.“I knew you were thinking about something else.”He looked Sam up and down slowly, making it clear exactly what he thought Sam had been distracted by.
Dammit.Now Sam was thinking about sex.He frowned at Ian in what he hoped was a quelling manner.
Ian grinned at him and waggled his eyebrows.Sam had always thought waggling eyebrows was sort of lame and dorky, but somehow Ian made even that look like sex.When he couldn’t squelch a tiny grin, Ian seemed satisfied, finally turning back to his apples.
Oh God, how sweet, he’s indulging in unspoken flirtation with me.As if they had real intimacy and a history.A history longer than a couple of weeks.
Sam was so far gone.This had better turn out all right or his damn heart was going to hemorrhage.Don’t think about it.“Why are we doing this again?”he asked quickly.
Ian made a face, digging out his wallet to pay.He handed the fruit to the stand attendant for weighing.“Because I promised myself I’d stay healthy and eat better.”
“That’s three fifty-eight,” the girl running the scale said.
For four apples?Sam was about to ask her if she’d maybe made a mistake on her big, huge calculator with the big, huge buttons when Ian muttered, “Damn organic fruit.”
“Whoa, you’re really trying to eat better.”He almost poked Ian in his nonexistent gut, but he still hadn’t figured out if touching was okay in public and if so, how much.
Ian’s teeth flashed in a quick smile while he dug through his wallet.“Yeah, well don’t do it if you aren’t going to do it right.”From where he stood, Sam could see the corner of his eye crinkling in little laugh lines he’d never noticed before.Oh, and an elusive dimple.
Sheesh, that was sexier than the eyebrow waggling.
