“Not really,” I said as one of the kids from the other aisle appeared and knocked over a large display of canned goods while screaming at the top of his lungs. “I was trying to get away from that.”
“Yeah, I can see why,” he said and ushered me to the produce section. “How’s Ariel?”
“She’s good. She hasn’t remembered anything from that night, but she’s okay otherwise. How are Blaze and Raven?”
“Same. They haven’t remembered anything and are quite pissed about it,” he said and gestured to my cart. “Do you two have dinner plans?”
“Oh, no. Ariel’s spending the weekend with her grandparents, and I didn’t have anything to do, so I thought I’d try this new recipe to keep myself occupied,” I rambled.
He nodded and studied me for a few moments. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said and tried to laugh nonchalantly, but it came out like a croaking gasp. Covering my face with my hands, I shook my head and admitted, “I’ve been a little jumpy since the incident.”
“Did something else happen?”
“No, nothing like that. I’m just one of those people who tends to think the worst-case scenario will happen.”
“What’s the worst case look like for you?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Men showing up at my house in the middle of the night to kill me and my daughter for talking to the police.”
“That won’t happen,” he said with confidence. “I wish my word was enough to make you feel better, but I know it’s not. I also don’t think you should spend the evening alone.”
“You don’t?”
“Nope,” he grinned. “Spending time with someone else and talking it out, maybe over dinner, is always good for the soul.”
“Are you inviting yourself to have dinner with me?” I teased.
“I’m really trying not to, but you’re not making it easy.”
I laughed and acquiesced. “Would you like to join me for dinner? I can’t promise it’ll be good, or even edible.”
“I’d love to,” he said, feigning surprise. “Thank you for asking. What time should I be there?”
“Whenever. I was going to start cooking as soon as I got home.”
“You sure? I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“I’m sure.” If I’d known he was coming over for dinner, I would have worn something different and probably refreshed my makeup, but he’d already seen me, so there was no point in delaying dinner just so I could improve my appearance.
After I grabbed the last few things I needed, he followed me to the register. Then, while I was preoccupied with bagging my groceries at the self-checkout, the sneaky bastard paid the total. When I went back to the screen to pay, he handed me the receipt with a shrug. “You’re cooking, so I paid.”
I opened my mouth to protest, and he shook his head. After a few awkward moments, I finally asked, “What if it’s bad?”
He laughed. “Then you can pay half. How’s that?”
“Fine,” I agreed. “But you can’t say it’s good if it really isn’t.”
“Deal,” he said and pushed the cart toward the door. “Where are you parked?”
Once the groceries were loaded into my car, he followed me to my house. I spent the entire drive trying to get a handle on the giddiness attempting to take over while simultaneously wondering what in the hell I was doing.
When we arrived at my house, he insisted on carrying the groceries inside, and I didn’t object. I hated every aspect of grocery shopping. If there were a way to have the food magically restocked without any effort on my part, I’d happily pay extra for it.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” I asked.
“Sure, if you’re having one.”
