I was a woman, and a woman needed a man. A man like the hottie in the store … even if it was only for one night.
Chapter Five
“Come on, Hunter, so we have to go now.” I glared at my brother as he sat on the kitchen table, eating a slice of cake.
He rolled his eyes. “What’s the hurry, Nellie? We’re only going to the grocery store.”
“I know, but if we wait too long, it’s going to be full of moms.”
“Since when have you cared who’s in the store?” He shook his head. “And this is Bluffton, sis, no grocery store is ever that full.”
“Please, Hunter. Let’s go. You really have to eat cake and ice cream now? Don’t you want to keep that amazing figure for when Birdie gets here?”
“Seriously?” He took another bite of cake and stood up. “Fine. Let’s go. What are you? Like on your period or something?”
“That is so offensive. You know that, right? Now that you have a fiancée, I would’ve thought that you would be much more mature about things like periods.”
“Um, okay, Nellie.” He grabbed his keys. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Oh, I wanted to drive.”
“You’re not driving. Let’s go. You said you wanted to go now, then let’s go.”
“Fine,” I said, “hold on.” I ran up quickly to my room and grabbed the envelope. This was it: I was going to do it. I put it into my handbag and then hurried back down the stairs. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Okay, let’s go. Do you have a shopping list?”
“Why do I need a list? I already know what I want.” Or don’t want, I was thinking to myself. I didn’t want to get caught putting the letter into the hot dad’s cart. Anything else was gravy.
“Okay. Well, I was figuring that we could do a Sunday roast and have Mom and Dad over?”
“Okay. Are you cooking?”
“Come on now, Nellie. We can cook it together.”
“Fine. Can Shelby come?”
“Sure she can come. You can invite your boyfriend as well.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Really? You and Shelby sure were giggling about some guy the other night.”
“It was just some rando. He’s not my boyfriend.” I blushed and looked out of the window. If Hunter only knew the guy I had a crush on, he’d be absolutely livid. Not that I was ever going to tell him. There was no way.
“So do you want to do a roast chicken or roast beef or roast lamb, or something else?”
“You can decide, dude. I really don’t mind.”
“Well, seeing as you’re the one that’s going to be making it …”
That got my attention. “What do you mean, I’m going to be making it? I thought I was just helping you.”
“Yeah, but you know I can’t cook for shit,” he laughed. “I can do the vegetables.”
“Oh, fine. We’ll do a roast chicken, then. That’s the easiest.”
“Okay. You know that it sounds good to me. I always love a good roast chicken.”
“You always love everything, Hunter. You love to eat.”
“I’m a man, we all love to eat.” He grinned.
Fifteen minutes later, we walked through the doors of the grocery store, my heart racing. Was my mystery man going to be there? Were his kids going to be there? Would I actually be able to do this? I had no idea, but I couldn’t wait to find out. I grabbed a cart quickly and hurried into the store.
“Hey, Nellie, wait up!” Hunter hurried behind me. “You’re going too fast.”
“Well, do we really have to be together as we go through the grocery store? Can’t you grab stuff, and I grab stuff, and we just meet?”
“No, we only have one cart, so we should go down each aisle together.”
I groaned. That sounded ridiculous. It reminded me of the times I used to go to the grocery store with my mom when I was younger. “Fine,” I said. “Well, let’s start at the produce section.”
“Whatever,” he said.
I pushed the cart and looked around, barely paying attention to where I was going. “Be here, please be here. Be here, be here, be here,” I whispered continuously under my breath.
And then right by the watermelons, I saw him. His back was to me, but I knew it was him. And then as if he could sense I was there, he turned around. His eyes met mine, and he gave me a supercilious look. What an asshole. He was still hot, but I hated to admit it to myself.
Then he looked to the right and saw Hunter standing there and he seemed surprised. He looked back at my face, one lip twitched, and then he turned back around. I had no idea what he was thinking. What had that look been about? I wanted to rush over to him and ask him, “What’s up with that look? What are you thinking?” But of course I couldn’t. I didn’t even know his name.
“Do you want any watermelon?” I asked Hunter, pushing the cart toward the watermelons before he could reply.
“I prefer cantaloupe, to be honest.” He walked quickly to keep up with me. “But, I mean, if you want watermelon, we can get one as well.”
“Yeah, let’s get a watermelon,” I said quickly, as I pushed the cart close to the guy. I stopped a couple of yards away. I didn’t want to get too close. “Which one should we get?” I said, not really caring.
“I don’t know. I don’t know how to pick fruit.” Hunter pulled out his phone. “I’m going to call Birdie and ask her if she wants me to get her anything. I’ll be right back, okay?”
“What?” I said to him, frowning slightly. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to go outside. I think it’s rude for people to talk on the phone in the grocery store,” he said, as he headed toward the front of the store, again.
“Really?” I started laughing. How ironic was that? Obviously, I didn’t think that, and I knew that Mr. Hottie with the attitude didn’t think that either. I stood there for a couple of seconds not sure what to do. My hand was touching the envelope in my handbag. I just needed a couple of free seconds and then I’d put it in his cart.
“So, shopping with your boyfriend today, huh? Or is he your security guard?” said a deep voice.
I looked up and there he was, his hazel-green eyes laughing at me. “Well, I might need a security guard to protect me from your bratty kids.” Real smooth, Nellie.
“They’re not bratty, and they’re not here, so you’re safe.” His voice was laced with sarcasm. “Don’t worry. I have my eye on them when I take them to the store now.”
“Yeah, right,” I responded. “I saw you here last weekend, and your little boy was running around like a hooligan.”
“Do you even know what a hooligan is, lady?” He rolled his eyes. “Little kids can’t be hooligans, and if they could, it would take a lot more than running around a store to make them one. I’m guessing you’ve never been a little kid before?”
“I have been a little kid, and I was taught manners.” I hated that I sounded like a bitch, but whatever. “I’m glad to know that you’re teaching them how to be good stewards.”