24. Tabitha
CHAPTER 24
TABITHA
Grocery shopping. It’s our first mundane outing as a newly married couple. It should feel low pressure, but instead, I feel like everyone in the store is staring at us as we approach the front doors.
Word about Erika’s death has officially spread. The whisper network in a small town is both fierce and effective, which means news of our nuptials has also spread. Especially because my parents paid for the announcement to be in the Rose Hill Gazette .
They’d told me about it this morning and I’d cringed, but they’d been so happy that I’d done my best to play along at being flattered by the attention.
Rhys had sat in the chair across from me with a knowing smirk on his face that made me want to either kick him or pounce on him.
I start out of the memory when his big, warm palm lands on my lower back, ushering me into the grocery store ahead of him. Peeking back at him, I see Milo up on his shoulders, bouncing happily with a plastic dinosaur clenched tight in one hand.
“Giddy up, Ree!”
Rhys’s lips twitch. “Not in the store, buddy. After.”
Undeterred, Milo kicks his legs. The ones that end up gripped in both of Rhys’s hands. “Go neeiiigh like a pony, Ree!”
Rhys groans and shakes his head, but it’s good-natured. “Not right now.”
Milo’s face scrunches, red splotches forming on his cheeks as his fingers curl into fists before he lets out a shrill, “Right now!”
A heavy sigh rushes from my lungs. Fucking threenagers, man. Hearing no is currently one of his least favorite pastimes.
I can see the tantrum coming from a mile away. It’s the change in his voice, the tension in his tiny limbs. I start to turn, ready to intercept.
“I want?—”
But Rhys cuts Milo off, his voice firm but calm as he removes him from his shoulders and crouches down in front of him, coming eye-to-eye with the little boy. “Milo, we’re at a grocery store. We need to help Tabby choose food for the week. This isn’t the time or place for that game. And honestly, if you talk to me like that, I won’t want to play it at all.”
I blink. I don’t know why I’m surprised by the way Rhys handles him, but I am. Milo’s little lips work even as his eyes go glassy. With crossed arms, he tips his nose up and looks away, guilt and pride warring on his face.
“After?” He finally slides his eyes back, one brow quirking at Rhys.
I almost giggle. Erika used to do that too. That exact thing with her eyebrow.
Rhys nods. “If you can shop with us and be polite, then we’ll talk. Think you can do that?”
Milo straightens, as though physically rising to the challenge. Then he nods once, firmly. And in that motion, I see Rhys.
It’s strange to see and even more strange to think about—this man I barely know really has had an impact on my nephew. Such a profound one that I can pick pieces of him out now that I know what to look for.
Rhys nods back and then takes him by the hand, marching past me with a wink that makes me a little weak in the knees. I watch as Rhys pulls out a cart and lifts Milo into the seat.
Then he turns back to me with an effortless, “You coming, baby?” that makes my cheeks feel warm. And based on the way his eyes trail over my face, I don’t think he misses it.
With a thick swallow, I pull myself together and forge ahead into the store while trying not to overthink the show we have to put on for the gazes that linger on us.
We start out in the meat section, and I watch in awe as Rhys basically cleans the place out of all their chicken breasts.
“Breasts, huh?” I joke as he piles them into the cart.
He rolls his eyes, but then they land on me, hot and dark below the heavy slashes of his brow. They trail slowly, intentionally, down over my throat and straight to my chest.
“Yup. They’re my favorite,” is all he says before turning away and pushing the cart along.
With hotter cheeks than I had before, I hustle after him. I’m grateful for the way Milo chatters away about which snacks he wants so I don’t have to make small talk with my husband.
I don’t know why I’m all bumbling and nervous around him. I just know that talk we had followed by an afternoon nap in the sun feels like it changed something between us. Like we shared pieces of ourselves and know each other a little better.
In fact, I find myself questioning a lot of the things I know about Rhys. I find myself wondering if there’s more to the story with Rhys that Erika may have conveniently left out. Most of all, I find myself questioning if Rhys could possibly be as bad as I made him out to be in my head.
It’s starting to seem unlikely, which leaves me feeling… adrift.
But reality comes slamming back when Rhys puts his hand on my back again. I try—and fail—to cover the shiver that races down my spine when he touches me.
This is all for show , I remind myself as I glance around. It’s pretend.
“Are you cold?” Rhys’s voice is like gravel, the feel of his breath against the shell of my ear a distracting tease as he leans in close.
“A little,” I lie.
Which backfires spectacularly when he tucks me against his side, draping one heavily corded arm around my neck. He drops a chaste kiss against my hair and continues sauntering through the grocery store like this is the most natural thing in the world.
Me? My heart is racing like I’ve just run a marathon. Which is bizarre because I fucking hate running and would never.
Before I know it, our cart is full and we’re in line at the checkout. I feel like I just snuggled against Rhys in a blissed-out daze for twenty minutes. I’m not even sure if all the food we got makes sense, but I can get creative and make it work.
Milo is in his own world playing with his dinosaur as I stare at the magazines at the checkout. My eyes catch on one in particular that makes me smile. Skylar’s happy face staring back at me with a shiny golden award in her hand. That’s when I feel Rhys’s body tense and turn next to mine. His fingers dig into my hip and pressure coils in my pelvis before I even realize what’s going on.
When I look up, Rhys is glaring at the man one line over. Too Tall, or as the guys have taken to calling him, Stretch. My lips twitch. That spin on his chosen nickname probably drives Terence fucking nuts.
I don’t know what his deal is, only that he’s been a raging dickhead to me ever since I broke up with him as a teenager , and that only makes me want to needle him more.
“Ah, Terry. Fancy meeting you here,” I say, not missing the sneer he shoots Rhys’s way. The condescending look he gives my husband gets my back up.
But Rhys doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he gives him a show of perfect white teeth as he scrubs his left hand over his beard and lets his eyes trail over the other man like he’s yesterday’s trash. “Right. Stretch . I forgot about you.”
The dig is clear, but Terence seems the most fixated on the flash of gold on Rhys’s finger. His eyes move down to my left hand, which boasts a matching ring.
He scoffs. “Really? I thought you’d remember losing to my team all the time.”
Rhys laughs. It comes out deep and makes his broad shoulders shake. “Oh, nah. Hard to think much about bowling when we’ve been busy celebrating the wedding. Ya know?”
He does that thing where he pops his tongue into his cheek. It’s all sass and his eyes are all taunt. Then he turns his gaze down to me. “Isn’t that right, baby?”
I swallow and tip my chin up toward him with a subtle nod, feeling the weight of so many eyes on us. The way Rhys is grinning down at me makes my heart pitter-patter in my chest. His free hand cups my jaw, thumb stroking my cheek, and my heartbeat leaps there, right beneath his touch.
I don’t answer. But I swear he just knows . A satisfied rumble vibrates in his chest as our eyes clash.
“Yeah, that is right,” he murmurs, before dropping his head and kissing me. Right here, in the grocery store.
I suck in a shocked gasp as his lips turn hungry. His tongue sweeps in, a sultry tease that has my body bowing into his eagerly and does nothing but leave me wanting more. A breathy whimper rushes from me as he pulls away, still staring at my mouth as he bites down on his bottom lip.
“Anyway, it’s always a pleasure, Terence. See ya around.” He doesn’t look away from me as he addresses a guy who hasn’t mattered in over a decade. His show of unnecessary territorialism leaves me scrambling, wondering why we needed to fake it right here and now.
I watch in a daze as Rhys manages the checkout, eyes widening when he tosses two copies of the Rose Hill Gazette on the conveyor at the last minute.
“Why do you want two copies of that?” I ask in confusion, still reeling from his kiss.
Rhys’s fingers tangle absently in my hair and give a gentle tug. “Obviously we have to keep a copy of our marriage announcement for the wedding album,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “And…” He taps his card on the reader, a smug smile on his face while he leaves me hanging, watching, wondering what the hell he was about to say.
Once the machine beeps its approval, I get my answer.
Rhys turns and tosses one paper over the magazine rack, landing it smack-dab in front of Terence, drawing the man’s attention once more. “And I thought our good pal Stretch might like a copy for his scrapbook too.”
Terence’s slender face turns beet red before our eyes, which only makes Rhys grin wider. My lips press together to keep from laughing, only offering the other man a nod as I depart with Rhys’s arm slung over me protectively.
“That was so fucking petty,” I whisper to him.
But all I get back as we hit the outdoors is a firm squeeze and a gravelly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It’s bullshit, but he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. And before I can press him any further, he’s reaching into the cart for Milo. “You rocked that shopping trip, little man. It’s officially pony ride time.”
His hands wrap around Milo’s rib cage as he tosses him up onto his shoulders, eliciting a joyous giggle from the little boy.
“Giddy up, Ree!” he squeals, circling a free hand around his head.
And Rhys does. He gallops through the parking lot in a way that is entirely out of character, and Milo hoots and hollers with glee. This big, stoic man we got stuck with, who is constantly tied up tight, goes all soft and gooey for the little boy on his shoulders right before my eyes.
It makes my heart squeeze so hard that it takes my breath away.
But more than that, it makes me feel like we’re really fucking lucky to be stuck with Rhys.