“Put that down. But in the cart. We need them for… salad.”
I chuckled lasciviously until he did what I asked and pinched the shit out of me.
“Ouch, fucker.”
He shrugged innocently. “You asked for it. Don’t ask for things you don’t want.”
Looking around, I browsed the selection of fresh fruits and vegetables until I found what I wanted. Collecting a plastic bag, I shoved them in, then put them in the cart.
Carson assessed my addition to the cart and sighed, trying not to smile. “Really? That’s what you need?”
I nodded. “Uh-huh. I’m going to make ya an amazing dish. We love it in Australia.”
He bit the side of his jaw. “You have a recipe for eggplant and peaches?”
Rocking on my heels, I stuffed my hands in my pockets to keep from touching him. “Yep. Sure do. It’s like a ratatouille of sorts without the tomatoes, peppers, or onions. And no herbs.”
“But it uses peaches.”
I nodded, trying to sell it. I was full of kangaroo doo. It was actually an appetizer. But my sweet man just went with it and moved on. “Sounds delicious. Let’s get some meat.”
My eyes lit up. “Now you’re talking.”
Carson smirked, but only shook his head. I went and collected a few more items as he watched me put them in the cart. By the time we finished, we’d purchased an eclectic variety of goods. Mostly lean meat, protein supplements, egg whites, and vegetables. We were professional athletes and needed to stay in shape.
When we got back to the house, I helped him carry in all the bags. Bella and Allister were curled up in the afternoon sun on Bella’s dog bed.
“Look at that, would ya?”
Carson smiled. “Kinda like us, aren’t they? Complete and total opposites.”
“But it works for some weird reason.”
“Stop stalling and help me unload. You’ve got a dish to make.”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” I said, unloading the bags onto the counter.
Carson laughed, which he was doing a lot more of, and unloaded his share.
When I got to the cucumber that started all of this, I walked around the bar and tugged him closer.
“Pull it out, let’s measure.”
“No,” he guffawed. “You’re not getting out of this after buying all this stuff.”
“Fine, fine,” I said, moving to clean my produce.
Carson finished putting away the food, then leaned on the counter where I was carefully cutting up my eggplant and peaches.
“Can ya wash the leaves? Don’t want grit in my dish.”
“I have to help now?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s just some basil.”
He picked up the bunch and ran it under cold water before spreading it out on a paper towel.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he stood close enough for me to feel the heat radiate off his skin. If I had my way, I would jump his bones and fuck the eggplant. But he was so smug that I had to show him a thing or two.
