Page 17 of Matched with Her Runaway Groom

“Let’s just start with swimsuits. And probably a new bra.” The ones I’ve been wearing for the past several months have me nearly spilling out of them.

Over an hour later, I walk out of the store with a swimsuit I actually feel good about wearing. The top covers my upper body and down to my lower stomach where it meets the high-waisted floral bottoms. With two bras and a few pieces of nicer underwear to replace my period panties, I’m feeling a little more excited to go. And my mother’s comments have lost some of their sting.

I rush into the grocery store, ready to get the stuff I need and head back home. That’s when I can grovel and groan about my lack of a job. Maybe checking for jobs yesterday was a good thing. Now I just need to apply for some.

I’ve got the large bag containing the swimsuit and underwear dangling from my arm at the elbow, and I pick up the large bottle of detergent. This day calls for ice cream and since I’ve eaten all the good kind in my freezer, I need to restock.

My stomach growls, and I realize I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I stop near the frozen dinners and grab one of them, knowing I’ll be too tired to cook anything once I get home.

“Rachelle?” a masculine voice asks. I’m rarely recognized in public, which is my whole intention, but I’m frozen, trying to figure out if I want to respond or not. Now is not the time to chit chat.

I turn around to find Landon holding a small basket with only a loaf of what looks to be garlic bread inside. In his hand is a large frozen pizza.

I open my mouth to speak, but there are no words.

“You look amazing, Rachelle,” he says, his words almost breathless. But it’s the words that don’t quite sink in.

“Do you shop here often?” If so, I’m going to have to either come at the oddest hours, or find a new grocery store.

“Only when it’s my turn to cook.”

This grocery store is too far away from his family’s home, which means he lives with someone.

I nod, readjusting the detergent under my elbow and walk past him. I’m on a roll with ditching people tonight. It’s full of cowardice, but to be honest, it’s mostly self-preservation. I can’t fall back into the cycle where I can hardly get out of bed in the morning. I just need to keep moving, to not let seeing him affect me.

Except I turn slightly to see if he’s watching and as I take another step forward, the large paper bag with my unmentionables catches on the bottom of a handle of the doors in the frozen section.

A loud rip peals through the air and everything works in slow motion. The bag is torn all the way to the bottom and out falls just about everything I purchased.

Landon hurries over and bends down, but I wave him off. “I’ve got it.” My cheeks are on fire. I’m pretty sure they’re the same hue as a pair of dark red panties I swipe from the floor. He totally sees them.

I bend over, picking up everything with one hand and doing my best to stand up with the detergent in the other. My armpit is trapping the now ripped paper bag, and I limp over to the cash register on my one heel. Of all the humiliation I could’ve endured today, seeing Landon is the last thing I needed to add to the list.

“Rachelle, at least let me help you,” Landon says, hurrying to step in front of me. I see his gaze go from the unmentionables to the detergent and he reaches out to get the bottle from me. I fight him like a toddler for a few seconds before giving up and letting him carry it.

I walk toward one of the self-checkouts and open a plastic bag, stuffing the bras and underwear inside one.

Landon scans the detergent and the frozen alfredo. I use my elbow to push him aside, but he doesn’t budge.

“I can get it.”

“It’s not a big deal.” He slides the garlic bread and the frozen pizza along the scanner. Before I can react, he whips out his credit card and inserts it into the card reader.

“Landon, I could’ve gotten the detergent.” I know I should be grateful, but I’m still having a hard time knowing the guy who left me a few weeks before our wedding is still a good guy. Hollywood has told a different story in all the movies I’ve watched this year, that most of them are villains who’ve got their eye on someone else. Then again, he could live with someone.

I swallow back the sting of that thought, but then my mouth opens and speaks. “Getting ready for a date?”

Landon scrunches his nose. “Ew, no. I’m not dating Dani.”

As much as I don’t want to laugh, the thought of him making dinner for his sister is a lot easier to digest. And she’s still one of my favorite people, lost in the wreckage of my relationship with Landon.

I grab the detergent and my plastic bags of clothing, depositing the paper bag in the trash can just outside the store.

“Do you need a ride home?” Landon asks. The thought is tempting, as I wouldn’t have to catch two buses home. But that would mean sitting two feet away from him for nearly twenty minutes.

Swallowing a bit of my pride for the sake of my aching feet, I nod.

He bought a new car, a sleek one that still has the new car scent. But it’s when I catch a whiff of his cologne that I’m scooting closer to the door so I don’t give him any ideas that I like it. Or that I’ve missed it. Which I have.

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