“Do you need to stop at the market for anything, we are going right by. Last I checked you had lettuce and a rotten tomato in your fridge,” I say jokingly. The question throws her off course and she nods.
“Actually, I do need a few things,” she concedes. I nod and signal to turn into the parking lot. It isn’t crowded this afternoon, so I pull into a spot close to the front. Before I can tell her to wait, she jumps out.
I catch up to her quickly and snag a cart before she can think about taking a basket. If I’m going to be staying with her, I need some things. They aren’t going to fit in a fucking basket. She raises her eyebrows at me and makes her way to the aisle with the wine.
She grabs two bottles of red wine and puts them in the cart. Then she thinks better of it and picks one back up to inspect the label. Whatever she finds she seems satisfied and places it back in the cart.
“Picky about your grapes,” I ask jokingly. She smirks at me, and crosses her arms across her chest. The move makes my eyes wander down. She must see where my gaze is because she drops her arms. I look back up to her face and grin.
“I’m picky about the alcohol content. If it is under 10% it isn’t worth the time or calories,” she explains and then spins around and heads to the specialty cheese counter. As I follow her, I grab a 6 pack of local beer and put it in the cart next to her wine.
“So what else is on your list,” I ask her. I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to feed her tonight.
“Girl dinner is on my list,” she responds. Putting 3 different kinds of cheeses in the cart. She grabs a box of mixed crackers that is sitting next to the aisle and places that in the cart too. I wordlessly follow her around as she places random items in the cart. Cherry tomatoes, baby bell peppers, cucumbers, a package of salami, grapes, apples, and hummus.
“Okay, I’m done,” she declares. Blinking, I look at her and then into the cart. These ingredients don’t make a meal. It is a bunch of snacks.
“So, for dinner, you plan on eating cheese and vegetables,” I ask her. Her mouth falls open and my mind wanders back to the gutter for a minute before I hear her response.
“Don’t forget the fruit and the wine,” her tone has a hint of outrage running through it. I chuckle.
“Okay, well, we need to add to the cart,” I say. It is my turn to lead her through the store. I grab a rotisserie chicken, broccoli, potatoes, and rice. Taking her down the dairy aisle I pick up some eggs, bacon, and I finish up with a loaf of bread.
“This should get us through tonight and tomorrow morning,” I explained to her. The look on her face is one of shock.
“What? Did you think I can’t feed myself,” I ask her jokingly. She starts to mumble a response, but I continue on.
“At 38 years old, if I can’t manage to put together a couple of meals, I’m in trouble,” I further explain. She just nods as we head to the register.
Chapter 19
Piper
I’m going through the grocery bags that Holt has deposited on my small kitchen table, trying to wrap my mind around our shopping trip. Holt is full of surprises. His take charge attitude is too attractive. I wasn’t going to cook for him. He decided he was going to crash my party, he could eat what I planned on getting.
Imagine my surprise when he came up with the meal all on his own. I still plan on having my charcuterie board—no self-respecting, millennial woman would skip out on that tradition—but maybe some chicken and broccoli wouldn’t be a bad idea. And he even thought about breakfast— and despite my protests at the cash register, he paid for all of it.
Shaking my head, I listen and hear a drill going outside. Holt seems to love power tools. After he brought in the bags, he told me he was going to install the cameras before it got dark. I look at my watch and see he has about an hour.
That means I can hop in the shower and then arrange my fancy adult lunchable. Before I do that, I open one of the bottles of wine I chose. If I had known he was going to pay for it, I might have chosen a cheaper bottle. I pour the red liquid into one of my wine glasses and pad to my bedroom.
I pull out a pair of my favorite high waisted leggings, an old cropped t-shirt, and an oversized hoodie. It is getting chilly out and I plan on being as comfortable as possible. Of course, I also look homeless—but whatever.I’m not trying to impress anyone.I snort at the lie I keep telling myself.
I pull the door to the bathroom shut and lock it. I don’t want Holt to accidentally come in here while I’m showering. My mind wanders to how that could play out, but I squash it. I turn the temperature control lever to barely boiling and start to strip out of my work clothes.
I avoid looking at my pudgy body in the mirror as I pull back the shower curtain and step inside. I have struggled with my weight ever since I can remember. I’m in my ‘trying to accept that I will never be a model’ era but it is slow going.
Sticking my head under the spray I let the hot water beat down on my shoulders. I find myself wondering what Holt would think of my body. Would he be repulsed? Next to him, I am small—but next to one of his bed buddies I am two times their size.On a good day.
I have resigned myself to the fact that I am probably not going to have the epic romance that I read about in books.Maybe I’ll get a dog. I feel the water temperature start to wane, so I hurry along the rest of my routine.
I quickly wash my hair and shave. I finish just in time because the water starts to get cold. I’m sure my water heater is about to die, I just need it to hold on for a little while longer. I towel off and pull on my clothes.
Pulling my brush out from under the sink, I run it through my wet shoulder length hair quickly. I hear someone rattling around in my kitchen.Holt must have finished up outside.I look at my phone on the sink and see that it is after 5:30. I had been in the shower longer than I thought.
I unlock the door and step out. Holt turns around to look at me and he pauses. I can’t read the look on his face.
“I just put the chicken in the oven to warm up and the broccoli and potatoes are roasting in there as well,” he explains. He is still giving me a look. I walk over to where I forgot my wine glass on the counter and grab it. Taking a big gulp. I’m going to need this alcohol to get through tonight.
