Page 22 of Married As Puck
He stares at me like I’ve gone crazy and shakes his head. He enters into his car and as soon as I hop inside, he starts to drive.
In the entire drive to the store, Cameron ensures that his grumble fills my ears. I did not think it was possible for someone to complain this much, but I guess to Cameron, it all comes easily.
“Why do humans need food every few hours? It’s inefficient.” He clenches his fists on the steering wheel tightly. It is so tight, and I honestly think the steering wheel is going to snap in two. “I have a contract, a schedule, training sessions. And now I’m wasting precious time grocery shopping again.”
I can’t help myself. I laugh. “You sound like a ninety-year-old accountant. Relax. It’s just groceries and besides it’s not like you were going to do anything else before now.”
“It’s a total waste of time. I should be doing my nighttime routine. I can’t believe you roped me into doing this with you, you were the one who finished everything, you should’ve done this yourself.”
“But this is way much fun, I have so many recipes to try out and—”
“I’m not interested in any of that, the last thing I want is a trip to the ER from food poisoning.”
“Hey! I hope you know that you’d starve without me. I haven’t seen you cook once since I’ve been here. The fridge was just full of snacks and take outs.”
“That shows you that I won’t starve, I’d just order takeout.”
“Every day?” I arch a brow. “Good luck keeping that athlete’s body on greasy burgers and fries.”
That shuts him up for a second, his jaw working as he stares out the passenger window. I almost feel bad. Almost.
I say, “Just so you know, you’ll be paying for everything. I haven’t gotten paid yet.”
He rolls his eyes, “I should’ve know that that’s why you wanted me to come so badly.”
I fake a gasp and hold a hand to my forehead, “Why would you think that? I want you here because this is perfect time for us to bond and you spending some money is just part of the experience.” I grin.
He shakes his head but does not say anything.
Inside the grocery store, the fluorescent lights hum above us as I grab a cart and start weaving through aisles. Cameron follows like I’ve chained him to the back bumper of a car.
“Cereal first or chocolate aisle?” I call over my shoulder with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll guide your lost soul.”
His scowl deepens.
When we pass the coffee section, his hand hovers protectively over the beans, almost reverent. Like some men clutch crosses in church.
“See?” I whisper, nudging him with my elbow. “Caveman found something he likes like a shiny rock.”
He shoots me a withering glare.
I grin wider and lean closer, whispering conspiratorially, “Relax, caveman. I’m harmless.”
“Don’t you have the concept of personal space? There’s a bubble around me,” he draws a big one in front of me, “you can say whatever it is that you want to say to me without crossing thatbubble. That’s respecting my personal space. You don’t see me talk in your face all the time.” He scowls, and I grin in response.
“Okeydokey, caveman,” I say and quickly hold his hand tightly. I watch in glee as he squirms and tries to remove my hand, but it just makes me laugh. I start playing around as he tries to get out of my hold.
An elderly woman in a floral cardigan pauses by her cart, watching us with that glimmer in her eyes—the one that says she’s about to unleash a compliment whether we want it or not.
“You two,” she says, her voice fond. “You remind me of me and my John when we were just married. All that handsy flirting. I mean I couldn’t keep my hands off him. Young love is the best.”
I freeze. For exactly three seconds with Cameron’s hand in mine. Then, slowly, a mischievous grin stretches across my lips.
“Oh?” I murmur, brushing my hand along Cameron’s arm. “That is so kind. He is my John. We are young and in love, aren’t we boo-boo bear?” I grin at Cameron. His eyes dart to me like daggers. My insides are dying with laughter.
His entire body goes rigid, and I can tell, he’s a few seconds away from exploding.
Poor little hot head.I tap the top of his head as I tiptoe.
