“Sorry about the sore throat, but I’m glad you were there to see it.”
She smiled, her blue eyes sparkling behind her glasses. “Me too.”
The warmth that spread through my chest when she looked at me like that was both pleasant and uncomfortable. She had a pretty smile, no doubt about that. Any guy would agree. But there was something about the way she smiledat methat I both loved and hated a little bit at the same time.
I figured it was a consequence of a guy-girl friendship. There was always going to be some tension, even if it was only on my side.
Clearing my throat, I gestured to the closest aisle. “I should probably…”
“Yeah, of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you.”
“Hey, babe?” a male voice said behind me.
My back stiffened, and the smile disappeared from Pen’s face, her eyes darting between me and the guy approaching.
Sean.
“Are you done yet?” he asked, his tone irritated.
“Found it.” She held up the guacamole. “This is the good kind that I was looking for. No additives.”
He didn’t reply, just dropped a few things in their cart, and my jaw hitched at the way he dismissed her.
His eyes flicked toward me and his brow furrowed, as if he was wondering why I was standing there. “What’s your deal, Haven?”
As much as I would have enjoyed stepping into his personal space and staring him down until he cowered, Penelope’s worried expression held me back. I didn’t want to make things hard on her.
So I ignored him the way he’d just ignored her and grabbed a container of the same guacamole off the shelf. “Thanks for finding this. I didn’t even think to look at the ingredients.”
She smiled. “Sure.”
“See you Monday.”
“Yeah, see you,” she said.
I didn’t bother glaring at Sean. Without another word, I turned and pushed my cart in the opposite direction.
“Dick,” I muttered under my breath, irrationally annoyed that he hadn’t been grateful to Pen for finding an additive-free brand of guacamole.
I wandered down an entire aisle before I realized I couldn’t remember what else my mom had asked me to get. I patted my back pocket, looking for my phone, but it wasn’t there. Damn it. I wondered if I’d left it at home.
Butter. She’d said butter. After grabbing some, and hoping it was all I’d needed, I checked out and left.
My parents lived a short drive outside town, up a long gravel driveway. Pine trees surrounded their hand-built log home. The side yard had a picnic table on the grass and a swing set for the grandkids, and my dad had a big shop out back.
I parked my truck, grabbed the groceries, and went to the front door. Mom had decorated the porch with a bunch of pumpkins.
“Hey, Mom. Dad,” I called as I walked in. “I’m here.”
“Hi, Theo,” Mom’s voice came from the kitchen.
The short hallway was decorated with years of old photos—mostly me and my siblings as kids. There were seven of us—six brothers and one sister. My parents each had three little boys when they’d gotten married, then they had Annika together. Somehow they’d brought us all together and created a family.
It had been a good way to grow up. Kinda hard to get too full of yourself, no matter who you are, when you have to share your space with so many brothers.
The hallway opened into a living room with a woodstove, cozy furniture, my mom’s knitted throw blankets everywhere, and more family photos on the mantel. Mom was in the kitchen, so I brought the grocery bags in and set them on the counter.
“Thank you, honey,” she said as she got the bread and butter out of the bag. She was dressed in a black cardigan over a T-shirt and jeans, her signature blue-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. “This saved me a lot of time.”
