I narrowed my eyes but let it slide.
I turned away to grab a pack of teething toys. When I looked back, the bloody octopus was sat in the trolley.
“Griffin,” I bit out.
“She kicked her legs when I showed it to her,” he said, smug. “It’s obviously her favorite.”
I looked down at Hazel, who had done no such thing.
She gurgled, completely unaware she was being used as an excuse.
I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. “Fine. But if she ignores it, I’m making you sleep with it out of spite.”
Griffin beamed, victorious.
I should have fought harder.
But watching him grin at a stuffed octopus like it was championship silverware made arguing feel pointless. He was going to do whatever he wanted anyway.
By the time we reached the checkout, I was exhausted.
Griffin, however, looked unreasonably pleased.
The cashier scanned item after item, barely batting an eye at the absurdity of our purchases. The total flashed on the screen.
I arched a brow. “Sure you don’t want to rethink the three-hundred-pound nappy bin?”
Griffin barely looked up from his wallet. “Does it make the nappies disappear like a magic trick?”
“No, it’s literally just a bin.”
He frowned. “Bit of a rip-off.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying for the last half-hour, Michaels.”
He ignored me, tapping his card. “Expensive day, wasn’t it?”
I stared at him. “You actually enjoy this, don’t you?”
His grin widened. “Winning? Always.”
I really hated drivers.
CHAPTER EIGHT
GRIFFIN
“Keep walking. Do not react.”
Violet’s voice had that clipped, sharp edge, the kind that said I was about five seconds from being murdered in a retail park car park. Which, honestly, wouldn’t be the weirdest place I’d ever gotten into trouble.
I adjusted the bags in my hands, shooting her a sidelong glance. “Care to elaborate, or am I meant to guess?”
She didn’t answer.
Didn’t even look at me.
That was when I knew it was bad.
