Page 143 of The Sweetest Devotion

“Fine.”

I returned my attention to the seafood case and another idea popped into my head. “You know what I really want to try? Catfish. I’ve never had it before.”

Keith eyed the case as well. “Hmm. Okay, change of plans. We will definitely teach you how to cook, but that’ll have to be for another day.”

I pouted. “Why?”

“You in Bedford Heights talking about you’ve never had catfish before. It’s mandatory for you go to Yvette’s Kitchen. Best soul food in the city. You can get you some fried catfish, macaroni and cheese, and whatever else sound good to you.”

Fried catfish sounded mouthwatering.

I put up no fight and agreed to cut our shopping for fish short. Keith gathered a few items from the meat department along with other household needs he held. When we got to the register, he was good on his word and we split the payment with my chipping in a hundred bucks and him paying for the rest. He pushed the cart out of the store and when we made it to his Tahoe, Dominique was around to help him stow the bags in the trunk.

Everything about the experience was so normal and homely, and I liked it. Discussing recipes as we shopped, giving each other ideas on what to buy, and feeling like arealcouple.

This was more than just sex, and as bad as that was, I loved it.

Through the windshield, I could see two men leaning underneath a Toyota’s hood, trying to see what was wrong with the vehicle.

“Are you going to teach me how to fix cars?” I asked as Keith got back into the driver’s seat.

Keith spotted the men as well and shook his head. “No.”

“No?” I teased.

Keith flashed me a smile. “That’smyjob.”

I bit my lip, if only to smother the urge to kiss him.

Feeling overwhelmed by the moment, I reached up and unclasped my necklace. It was rose gold with a diamond-encrusted jasmine pendant. I held it out before Keith. “This is the first thing I bought with my own money. I know it’s silly to buy jewelry instead of ‘saving’ money, but I was proud of myself. This necklace has always meant a lot to me, and I want you to have it.”

Keith’s thumb tapped against the steering wheel as his eyes focused on me. “Why?”

“No matter what happens, I want you to know thatyoumean a lot to me, Keith,” I said.

Keith accepted my necklace and placed it on. When it was clasped together and hanging on his chest, he reached over, taking my face into his rough palm and stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Thank you.” Leaning over, he whispered in my ear. “You mean a lot to me, too.”

I kissed his palm and peered into his eyes as he reeled back.

This could end in the morning, and no matter what, I knew I would always look back on my time with Keith and know that I was happy.

Keith took us to Yvette’s Kitchen. Almost as soon as we were out of the truck someone recognized Keith and shouted a greeting over to him.

Everyone knew Keith, and I liked that he wasn’t bigheaded about it or walked around like he was the Man. His humbleness made me lean into him and smile.

When we stepped inside the restaurant Keith was quick to take me into his arms as we stood back from the other people waiting ahead of us. I rested into Keith and peered up at the menu, already planning on trying damn near the whole thing. It all sounded so good, especially the macaroni and cheese.

“Your eyes are bigger than your stomach,” Keith warned me gently.

I didn’t listen. When I went and ordered the catfish and fries snack, small catfish nugget, along with a small side of macaroni and cheese, greens, and coleslaw, Keith only chuckled at me. He’d kept it simple with his fried chicken, okra, and mashed potatoes.

The whole way back to his house the smell of the food sitting on my lap was too tempting.

“You can go in and eat,” Keith told me as we got out of the car and he went to open the trunk of his truck. “I’ll unload the groceries.”

It was the best invitation, but I knew better. After he unlocked his front door I set the food inside on the dining room table and then I went out to help him with the rest of the stuff. We worked like a team, with Keith taking most of the load. As hungry as I was, I stayed with him and watched his process of putting away his groceries. When he was done, he saved all the blue bags by stuffing them into one and storing them in a cabinet under his sink.

Through my own exploring I knew a lot about Keith’s kitchen. Where he stored his bread, where he kept his lunch bags, and where he kept his snacks. He’d bought fresh lunchmeat before we’d left Finnegan’s and I was already planning on making him a ham sandwich for his lunch for Monday.

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