Page 34 of The Bodyguard
“No, I just needed to pick up some stuff for dinner. Now that spring is here I can grill again. I was thinking barbecued chicken. You should come over.”
“Over where?”
“To my place. For dinner. When was the last time you saw the Pine ranch? Probably not since you were a kid.”
She hesitated, but I kept walking toward the store and eventually she fell in step beside me. I picked a cart and started rolling it down the narrow aisles of Dusty Creek’s lone grocery store.
Most folks did bulk shopping at the Costco two towns over. But the Piggly Wiggly served most of my needs.
Except they didn’t sell condoms. The owner didn’t believe in birth control, which was a pain in the ass. Buying condoms in bulk made me feel like more of a player than I was. And there was something depressing about seeing this massive box of unused condoms in my bathroom cabinet.
Wait. Why was I thinking about condoms?
Brin stayed mostly quiet until she started to pick up some fruits and vegetables and put them in my cart.
“I’ve never been to your ranch,” she said quietly.
“Never? Huh, that seems crazy, but I guess all the big events happened at The King’s Land.”
“I guess.”
“We can grill those peppers if you want,” I suggested.
“I was buying them because I needed them for me. I suppose I should get my own cart.”
“You can put them in mine. Just get extra, then.”
She put them in the cart, then added a few of different colors. I didn’t know why, but it made me happy to see our groceries comingled. Like I had won some kind of trust from her, in her allowing me to haul around her produce.
I picked up macaroni salad and potato salad. She picked up spinach and mushrooms.
“You need more vegetables in your diet,” she grumbled when I reached for some coleslaw.
“You need more mayonnaise in yours.”
She smirked at me and I felt like I had won again. The Sabrina who had walked into the grocery store had been distracted and tense. So tense that she’d screamed at just hearing her name.
Now she was herself and relaxed. We took our combined cart of food items and checked out what was hers and what was mine. Except when she reached for the peppers I stopped her.
“No, those are mine. Remember, I’m grilling them for us tonight.”
She put a hand on her hip. “I don’t even remember agreeing to have dinner with you.”
“Sure you did. I said barbecued chicken, you said let’s grill some peppers with that. I said let’s add some potato salad…it’s all right here,” I said pointing to the counter of mixed food.
Once we had our groceries sorted and bagged, I walked her back to her car.
“What time can you come over?” I asked her.
“What time do you want me?”
Now, I thought. I wanted her now.
I shrugged. “I should be done my shift by six, so seven works.”
She nodded and let me put her bags of groceries in the back of her sleek Mercedes. When that was handled, we stood there for a minute and I realized I couldn’t let it go.
“Why are you carrying a gun, Brin? It’s Dusty Creek. You know the crime rate here. If I make an arrest once a month that’s a lot, and it’s mostly Joe Kregger for getting drunk and disorderly again.”
