“Mm-hmm. That way, you don’t buy unnecessary things just because you’re hungry.”
Alexander pauses while she skips on ahead, munching away as she browses the shelves. She only stops to consider the items marked for sale and never anything at full price.
Something protective stirs in his chest.
Her new chef jacket. The knife set. Her secret coffee tin that only he knows about.
One way or another, it always comes down to money with Eden, and that makes him a little sad. It’s true that his parents taught him frugality, but this is on a whole other level. It seeps into everything she does, every decision she makes. A tiny voice in the back of his head—one that grows increasingly louder with every passing day—wants to change all that. He wants tohelp.
He just doesn’t know how.
As they stroll down the aisle together, his mind works overtime. Alexander knows he could easily pay for that private detective—Michelle something? Maxine?—but he knows Eden too well. She’ll protest wholeheartedly the same way she did when he bought her new knife set. A lump lodges in his throat at the memory of her tearing up, so overwhelmed she could barely speak.
People don’t do stuff like this for me. Ever.
He wants to change that, but only if she’ll let him. It probably won’t go over very well if he comes barreling in flashing his cash like some asshole with a hero complex. Knowing Eden, she might be insulted by the presumptuous nature of it. Grand gestures… That’s not what she needs or wants. It’s not his style, either.
So he starts small.
Eden puts a box of premium pasta back on the shelf and moves on. Alexander picks it right back up and tosses it into the cart.
“What are you doing?” she asks, amused.
“Nothing. What else is on the list?”
Eden squints at him, the corner of her lips curling up into a grin. “Marshmallows.”
“Pasta and marshmallows? The fuck are you trying to make?”
She giggles. “They’re for two separate recipes, dummy.”
“You’re the dummy.”
Before she has the chance to protest, he wraps his arms around her, kisses her firmly on the lips, and then lifts her up and sets her down in the cart.
Eden bursts into a fit of laughter. “Oh my God, what are you doing?”
Alexander pushes the cart forward. “What else do you need for dinner, chef?”
They continue going up and down the food aisles, collecting a wide variety of different ingredients. Alexander thinks of it as a puzzle. He sees the pieces that Eden’s picking up, but for the life of him, he can’t see the overall picture.
Gochujang, Japanese chili miso, chocolate chips, ketchup, garlic powder, graham crackers, sesame seed oil, and fresh shrimp straight from the tank. Every single time Eden tries to go for a cheaper version to save a couple of cents, Alexander immediately puts it back and replaces the item with something of higher quality.
Eden puts her hands on her hips. “Stop that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Alexander—”
“Is there anything else you need?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Then we’re off to the checkout!”
She throws her head back and giggles wildly as they race down the aisle. Neither of them care about the pointed looks they earn from startled shoppers nearby.
* * *
