Page 25 of Pick Six
“Might as well get it over with.”
“This feels ridiculous,”I mutter thirty minutes later as we stand in a grocery aisle while Sam’s photographer pretends to stumble on us in the wild and take photos.
“It is.”
“So why are we doing it?”
“Normal couple doing normal things. Sam doesn’t want it all to be flashy with us going out. She says it looks fake.”
“Which it is,” I mumble as I look over dozens of kinds of frozen junk food. All of them looking delicious to my rumbling stomach.
“What do you want for dinner?”
“Pizza? Stir fry?” I start randomly naming things in front of me.
“What about quesadillas?”
“Where do you see those?”
“I can make a quesadilla.” He gives me a side-eye.
“You can cook?” I look at him with mock surprise.
“I mean, I don’t claim to be a chef or anything, but I make a few decent meals, and my quesadillas are pretty damn good.”
“Oh, I definitely need to see you cook. So let’s do that.” I grin at him, and he shakes his head.
“No belief in me. I see how it is.”
“What about dessert though?”
“That’s not a question you ask a man undergoing forced celibacy, Saint.”
“Ha. I’m being serious.”
“Cherry pie. With whipped cream. Maybe a couple cans of it.” He can’t keep a straight face and starts to laugh.
“Are we reliving your college days now?”
“Are you offering to help me relive them?”
I give him a look and then return to browsing the aisle. “What about some sorbet?”
“Less nostalgic, but I can still think of some things we can do with it.”
I roll my eyes at him and grab a couple of different flavors off the shelf and put them in our grocery cart. A moment later his cell phone dings, and I see him look at it and then his eyes flash up to me.
“All right. They got what they need so we’re good. Anything else you want?” He tucks the phone back in his pocket.
“Nah. I’m good.”
“All right, let’s get the rest of the stuff for quesadillas and then get out of here before someone actually spots us.” He makes a grimacing smile.
“That get old?” I ask as we head to the register.
“Most of the time I don’t mind. I’m grateful for the support, but I think I’d rather you not have to dive into the deep end.”
“I can handle it. I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for this.” I look up at him.
