Page 7 of Hot Response
Aidan laughed. “Somebody has to pick up the slack while you’re sulking.”
He wasn’t sulking, dammit. He was...brooding. “Whatever.”
“You guys hardly ever cross paths and, when you do, it’s on the job and you’ve got other things to focus on.” Aidan took a sip of his beer and then shrugged. “I don’t know why you’re letting it get to you, anyway. Who cares what she thinks?”
Gavin shrugged because he knew Aidan was right. He would only go in circles because he knew her opinion of him shouldn’t matter, but it did and he couldn’t explain why.
The best thing he could do if he saw Cait Tasker coming was cross the street.
Chapter Three
“I’m out of my tea bags. Can you run to the market and grab me a box?”
Frowning, Cait walked to the pantry and rummaged around the shelves, searching for a box of the herbal tea her mother liked to drink before bed. “You shouldn’t be out of them already. It’s only been a week.”
“I was talking about the tea at work and Del wanted to try it, so I brought a box in to her. They have it at the market and it’ll only take you a few minutes.”
Running to the store would be easier than listening to her mother complain in a few hours when she didn’t have the tea she’d managed to convince herself was the only reason she was able to fall asleep at night.
It wouldn’t be a big deal at all if it weren’t one of the many small reasons Cait had decided to move back in for a while. Unable to cope with lists and planning and making a weekly trip to a chain grocery store, her mom and Carter had been living off almost daily trips to the corner market. They were throwing together quick, often unhealthy meals, while burning through crazy amounts of money. It had taken Cait a while to get them back on track, but now they limited trips to the market to cravings, her mom’s lottery tickets and occasional half-gallons of milk, the way convenience stores were supposed to be used.
“I’ll go,” she said, “but make sure you put the tea bags on the grocery list so we don’t forget them next weekend.”
Cait worked every other weekend, so on her off weekends, they did a “big” shopping trip together. On the Saturdays she worked, her mom did a smaller shopping trip for meats and produce, shopping from a list she and Cait kept on the fridge, but they’d had to work up to that. Not due to a lack of ability on her mom’s part. The woman had raised three kids while working a full-time job. But she and Duke had always grocery shopped together and doing it alone had been too hard for her at first.
And that was why Cait had made the decision to move back home—because it was temporary. She knew her mom would get her feet back under her emotionally. It was just taking longer than either of them had anticipated.
“Carter, we’re going to the market,” she said to her brother, who’d been sitting on the couch, staring at his phone for so long, Cait wasn’t sure if she should go check his vitals.
“Have fun,” he muttered.
“No, I mean you and me. Let’s go for a walk.”
When he sighed and rolled his eyes, but got up and slid his phone in his pocket without arguing, Cait was surprised. It was the closest he’d come to admitting he might not mind a few minutes of his sister’s company.
“How’s school going?” she asked when they reached the sidewalk. Both of them had their hoods up against the cold breeze, and his hid his face from her.
“Okay. Better, I guess. I didn’t get to see my friends much over vacation.”
Christmas break had been tough on him, she knew. Not only did he have to navigate the emotional minefield that was their first Christmas without his dad, but his friends had all been dragged into their own families’ holiday activities, so he hadn’t had much online distraction.
She didn’t ask him about homework. Or if his room was clean or he’d done laundry. Not only was she forcing her mom to handle the teenager wrangling—with blessedly fewer nudges each week—but she didn’t want to butt heads with him right now.
“Is whatshisname still seeing that girl?”
He turned to give her aseriously?look and she laughed. After a few seconds, he laughed with her, before shaking his head and looking forward again. “Whatshisname and that girl broke up and now he’s seeing thatothergirl. That girl’s pissed and keeps putting bad pictures—like when she’s looking down at her paper and has like three chins and shit—of thatothergirl on Snapchat.”
She let the language slide, reminding herself her baby brother was sixteen and probably knew—and said—more curse words than she did. “What does that other girl do about it?”
The drama of whatshisname, that girl and that other girl lasted until they got to the market, and Cait was relieved to see glimpses of the funny, open kid he’d been before the teenage hormones and losing his dad double-teamed him. But as soon as they walked inside, she heard the subtle buzz of his phone in his back pocket and, just like that, his attention was gone.
That was okay with Cait. They’d had a nice walk and she’d take the win, though she wished she’d worn gloves. Blowing into her cupped hands to warm them up, she headed off toward the aisle where the tea would be, assuming Carter would follow her by way of whatever smartphone sonar teenagers used to walk and stare at the screen at the same time.
She walked around the corner, going wide so she didn’t bump into a display of poorly stacked soup cans, and almost collided with another shopper. Words of apology died on her lips when she realized it was Gavin Boudreau.
Of all the markets in all the world, or something like that.
His jaw tightened for a few seconds when he realized who she was. “Hey.”
