“I was going to use a rub…I make a really good one.”
“What’s in it?”
She told him the seasonings she used and he made approving noises. “Sounds good. Should we get some wine?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Nate knew wine, too, and they lingered over selecting a red and a white. Then he insisted on paying for the wine and half the groceries.
“Don’t be silly.” She frowned. “I’ll let you buy the wine, but not the food.”
“I’m costing you guys money.”
“We can afford to have a guest for a while.”
“I can afford to contribute.”
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Tell me how much you make,” she challenged him. “And I’ll tell you how muchImake.”
He grinned. “Never mind. I’m sure you’re raking it in.”
She grimaced. “Not. Derek makes way more than I do. My business is just new. I’m doing okay, though.”
She started lifting items out of the cart and piling them onthe checkout counter. Nate leaned into the cart too, to help, his shoulder brushing hers.
“I know you’re doing more than okay, with the prices of those photographs. And it was in the news how much you made off that deal with House and Home.”
He grinned. “Yeah. That was sweet. After I made that deal, I was able to travel wherever I wanted, do what I wanted. And the prices my images are selling for still blows my mind.”
He placed the steaks on the conveyor.
“That show in L.A. you mentioned…is it a sale?”
“Yeah. At Gallery 228. A new dealer. Generally I do really well at those shows.”
She nodded. She felt…proud. It had taken Nate a while to find his way, too, though not as long as it had taken her. When she’d met him and Derek, Nate had been running a business renting bicycles at the beach. He’d done well, had lots of flexibility and was outside a lot, as he loved to be, near the ocean. When he and Derek weren’t doing triathlons, he’d played around taking pictures, displaying them every Sunday at the Arts and Crafts show on Cabrillo Boulevard, selling the odd one. Selling photographs was tough in Santa Barbara because of the big photography school.Everyonewas a photographer. She was so happy it had turned into such a successful career for him.
“So, the money’s good…but you love it, don’t you?”
He paused, a bottle of wine in each hand. “Yeah. I love it.” He set the wine down.
“Your eyes are going to get better.” She set a hand on his forearm. Strong, bare, soft with dark hair. She felt the muscles tighten beneath her fingers. “I know it.”
He nodded, reached into the cart again, removing his arm from her touch, and she moved through the checkout, pulling her wallet out of her purse to pay.
When they stopped at another grocery store, they, too, had no shiitake mushrooms. “Damn.” Krissa stood there, arms folded. “Well, there’s one more place we can try.”
“Do we have to have shiitake? How about oyster mushrooms? They have those.”
“I want shiitake.”
He shrugged. When they had no luck at the next store, Krissa could have screamed.
Nate put his hand on her back and rubbed. “Hey. Mushrooms are not an important thing.”
His touch and his words calmed her. He was right. She was just being her usual stubborn self. She shook her head, and they selected mushrooms from the types available at that store.
Nate helped her carry the groceries into the house and put them away in the kitchen. Then he sat at the counter while she mixed up the rub for the steaks.
