I’d been self-conscious enough by his casual touches, hand on my back, and whispering in my ear while grocery shopping.
Then there was the episode with the champagne.
When we approached the alcohol section, I hadn’t expected to pause there. Beau had a whisky every now and then, though I’d only seen him do it twice, once being last night. The bottle we’d shared was still almost entirely full.
But Beau directed us to the wine aisle, stopping in front of the champagne. He reached up with his long, muscular arm to grasp a bottle from the top shelf.
A very expensive bottle. So expensive that it blew my mind. People really spend that much? Onwine?
“Who’s that for?” I asked him dumbly. I figured it must’ve been a gift for a friend, one with expensive taste.
“You like this,” he replied, as if that answered the question.
I stared at the bottle, recognizing it as what had been at Avery’s place the night I went for drinks. I didn’t even bother to ask how he’d known that was the specific champagne I’d had the night in question.
“I like space, but you’re not about to get me a rocket ship,” I said dryly.
His eyes twinkled, looking down at Clara. She was sticking close to the two of us, happily looking around the store in awe. Obviously, the newness had not yet worn off. “My girls both like space, so give me time.”
My girls.
Punch. To the heart.
I swallowed thickly, trying to recover. “Regardless, the champagne is not something we get just because I like it.”
I reached into the cart, grabbing the bottle.
When I reached to put it back on the shelf, Beau’s large hand encircled my wrist. The size difference was stark. Until Beau Shaw, never had a man made me feel petite. Never had I felt less afraid of a man physically.
“We’re getting itbecauseyou like it,” he argued. “And because we’ve got something to celebrate.”
A thrill surged through me, reveling in the dry, firm grip.
“We do?”
“We do.” Beau held my gaze. “So let go of the fucking champagne, and I’ll let you drink it while I eat your pussy tonight.”
I let go on instinct, my eyes rushing downward to see if Clara was out of earshot. Luckily, she was. I was sure Beau knew that too, because he wouldn’t have said that if she wasn’t. Still, it felt risky—and delightful—to have him speak to me like that in a grocery store.
Then he resumed walking through the aisle, Clara at his side, me following along with my limbs feeling weightless.
He didn’t let me pay for the groceries. Or even the champagne, though there was a small standoff before I relented. The last thing I needed to do was make a scene. I reasoned we could have a sensible conversation about all the dynamics of our relationship after Clara went to bed.
Beau was making it clear to small-town Jupiter that we were a couple.
The grocery store was one thing… It was full of strangers and people I might’ve found familiar, some who nodded to Beau. No one I knew personally.
Nora’s bakery was a whole other story.
Beau’s hand had been wrapped so tight around mine, that the option of pulling it away wasn’t even there.
Fiona had been working the counter. She’d taken one long look at Beau’s hand in mine before her mouth stretched into what could only be described as a shit-eating grin.
“Welcome to the club!” she cheered wildly and loudly.
Everyone in the bakery looked in our direction. My cheeks flamed. Clara grinned.
I still didn’t even entirely know what she was talking about, but I guessed I’d figure it out later that week when I went to her house for “emergency celebrations.”
