“No one needs to keep stale chips they’re never going to eat either,” she counters.
Can’t really argue that point. Not rationally anyway.
I’m on the brink of making an effort for the sake of pushing her buttons some more, when she sighs loudly, bends forward and pulls a large trash bag from the box on the bottom shelf. “If you want to save any hidden stash of candy, do it now,” she orders, reaching up to grab a handful of bags from the top shelf.
“Some of those might still be good,” I point out as the second round of chips lands in the trash.
“Did you want to sample every single batch to find out which ones?”
I only stare in response.
“Didn’t think so.” Another handful bites the dust.
“So,” I say, tapping my fingers over my thigh. “I take it we’re going grocery shopping after the kids finish their pancakes?”
She pauses, the last batch of chips hovering between the shelf and her waiting trash bag. “Why would you come?”
Shit. Why would I come? “I need to stock up the mini-fridge in the barn,” I blurt out the first semi-logical reason that comes to mind. And it’s not all that logical. At all. I brought all the basics from my own kitchen when I moved my stuff in. But I’m sure I could use something. A back up milk? A jug of juice for when the kids hang out in the barn? Sure. We’ll go with that. “Might as well do it all in one trip.”
Her gaze is agonizingly scrutinizing, like she’s carefully searching for a loophole in my reasoning. Any excuse to get out of spending more time with me. Not that she ever needed one before.
Guess that’s another thing that’s changed around here.
“Fine,” she stuffs the last of the chips into the bag. “You can come.” She redirects her attention to the pasta, hand ready to launch her next attack. “You gonna pull the box hiding the sour candies or what?”
I do. Though I have no clue how she even knew they were there. That’s not Trent or Lena’s stash. Those sour candies are fucking mine.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LIZ
"What are you doing?" I ask when I watch Jovi march straight past my car toward his truck, Gavin hustling to keep his little legs moving fast enough to keep up with the man's long strides.
"The thing we came out here to do," he answers without turning back. "Going to the store."
I shake my keys in the air, making them jingle. "My car is right here."
Jovi reaches his truck and stops short of opening the door, finally turning back to face me. "Truck is easier. Car seats are still in it."
I make a face. I forgot about those. Another mark against me on the parenting front.
Regardless, the reason we took Jovi's truck when we went to Biscuit Barn was because my car still had stuff in the backseat. But now, my car is empty. "A situation we should rectify sooner rather than later," I point out. "I'm going to be the one driving with the kids on a daily basis. Might as well get my car set up for the task."
He shakes his head. "I'll make sure everything is ready for tomorrow morning's school run before I turn in tonight. For now, let’s just get going so we can get back before it gets late. Ihave horses to tend to, and you have two small bellies to fill come lunch and an empty pantry."
I place both hands on my hips, trying my best to keep my tone light as both children take an obvious interest in our exchange. "Is this some sort of boys against girls thing? Does it wound your fragile masculinity to be driven around by a woman?"
He barks a laugh. "Fragile masculinity?" Shaking his head, he opens the door. "You want to drive? Be my guest. I'll happily have you chauffeur me around."
I purse my lips, holding back a building desire to rant. Instead, I close the distance between us and lower my voice when we're close enough to keep our conversation private from Remmi and Gavin. Both of whom seem stuck in limbo between our opposing vehicles as we continue our standoff. "What is your freaking deal, Jovi? I don't have time or energy to engage in this stupid power struggle with you. Stop being so stubborn and get in my car."
"No." His calm voice only serves to irritate me more. "And while we're on the topic, I don't want you in it anymore either. It's not safe. All I had to do was watch you move it from the front of the house to the carport for that fact to be abundantly clear. I don't know how it survived the drive here, but we're not taking it to the store. Hell, if I have my way, it's never leaving this driveway again. Unless it’s being towed to the junkyard."
"Rude," I snap, too flustered by half of what he said to come up with something better.
He sighs. "Get in, Liz." He holds his key fob out for me to take. "Might as well get used to driving it since you'll be using it until further notice."
"Excuse me?"
