Her smile tells me my slip of the tongue doesn’t matter. “You’re right. I appreciate that you appreciate it.”
“You would find me very appreciative, I promise.” I don’t mean to let the suggestiveness creep into my voice, honestly, but it was suddenly there, and Madelyn tugs nervously on the hem of her shirt, like she needs to shrink or be covered more completely.
Mercer, if you ruin this, I will strangle you, I threaten myself. “Please let me make dinner and buy the food. I’ve never cooked for anyone. Ever.”
Way to convince her, you guppy-brained lump!
“But I have a cookbook, and I’m a fast learner. If I ruin the meal, I will make sure we go out somewhere else. My treat. Or I’ll come back the next night and try again.”
Madelyn nods, laughing quietly.
It’s enough temptation to make me want to burn everything on purpose, just so I can see her again.
“I’m sure you’ll do fine, but I should do something for you,” she protests.
I don’t know what possesses me to say what I do, but my lips are once again moving, as if this woman is my Circe, enchantingme to speak after years of near silence. “But when was the last time anyone did something for you?”
“You saved my son!” she cries, hands flung out in exasperation.
“That’s my job. When is the last time a person did something purely for you, because he wanted to?”
Madelyn seems caught off guard, and her lips move as if she’s trying to find the right words. “Oh. Five years ago, probably? Well, no, I mean, my parents help all the time—”
“I’m sure they want to, but that’s not quite what I meant.”
“I know. I...” She trails off, her eyes stopping at the flowers and vase in my cart. “You didn’t have to do that,” she whispers, a look of disbelief passing over her face.
“That’s correct. Iwantedto. I want to catch the fish, learn how to make asparagus and potatoes, read Zack books, and let you work a bit. I also want to know what to make him and what dessert to buy. I want there to be a guide to almost-three-year-olds so that I make everything perfect tomorrow night.”
I also want to possess a rewind button for my life so that I can stop talking long before I did.
Zack shifts on my shoulder, and I bounce him slightly, patting his back, waiting for Madelyn to tell me to get lost after blurting out all of that.
“You’re a natural with him.”
Madelyn’s praise and smile feel like a warm, tropical current.
“Thank you.”
“I should take him back, though. I need to check out, and it’s late.”
“I’ll help you put him in the car,” I volunteer quickly, ashamed of myself for immediately dreading how lonely I’ll be when they leave, even if we’ll see each other tomorrow morning.
“Are you sure? I mean, it’s a big help, but you have your own shopping to do.”
“I just need something for Zack and a dessert.”
“We’re both suckers for grasshopper pie, and I saw they had some in the bakery section,” Madelyn says with a twinkle of hope in her eye.
I would at this moment personally catch her a thousand grasshoppers and learn how to prepare this strange delicacy. I eat raw fish and shellfish. Who am I to judge? “I have never heard of this dessert. Are the insects naturally sweet?”
“Oh! Oh, God, no!” Madelyn speed walks to the bakery section, and I follow her, my eyes glued to her bouncing bottom in the most ungentlemanly way. “It’s mint and chocolate!” She holds up a startlingly green-and-black pie. “I don’t eat bugs! Oh, but if you—”
“Never on purpose,” I chuckle.
The warm, tropical waves are washing over me, warming me from tentacle to top. I’ve never laughed with someone so easily, or felt so good about it being at my expense.
I take the pie from her with one of my tentacles and scope out the rest of the case, where refrigerated pies, cakes, and some more savory pastries are stored. “How about a chicken, broccoli, and cheese quiche?” I ask.
