26. Grocery Shopping
Skye
“I’m going inside before I end up breaking my promise to you.”
Those words have been echoing through my mind ever since Tatum said them last night, and I know exactly why. It’s because part of me wanted him to break his promise. I said that we should wait to kiss again until the “right moment” happens, but I think the right moment could’ve been any time before or after he told me I was everything and kissed my hand.
Sure, I was still worried about having bad breath, but maybe that wouldn’t have mattered?
I don’t know.
I’ve never done this much overthinking about kissing. Frankly, it’s exhausting.
“ Buenos días, mi amiga ,” Anna says, coming into our tiny kitchen. “? Cómo estás ?”
“I see we’re practicing Spanish again,” I drawl, taking a bite out of my blueberry muffin. “I’m no expert, but that sounded pretty good.”
“ Muchas gracias .” She does a little hair flip. “I started a telenovela that Abuela suggested to me, so we’ll see if anything else sticks.” She proceeds to sit across from me and flashes a sly grin. “What are you and the fiancé doing today?”
“Nothing fake wedding related if that’s what you’re really asking.” I drink some more of my milk. “We’re just getting groceries and maybe lunch, I don’t know for sure.”
We didn’t talk about getting lunch last night, but we’ll both probably be hungry after being surrounded by aisles and displays of food.
“Oh! If you’re going grocery shopping, we need ice cream!”
I wink at her. “Already told Tatum.”
“Good,” she says with a relieved sigh. “So, is he coming to get you? Or are you picking him up?”
“He’s coming to get me.”
But it’s not a date .
Just because he likes me and I’m having some confused feelings toward him doesn’t mean our plans for today equate to going on a date.
“I never said it was a date.” Anna’s light eyebrows crease in obvious confusion. “Why would it be a date?”
Oh crap, I think I said that first part out loud.
“Helloooo? Skye! Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Tatum likes me!” I blurt out. “He told me yesterday and my brain has been making a mess out of things!”
“Oh my gosh!” she gasps, slamming her hand down on the table. “What did you say? Did you friend-zone him?”
“No, I didn’t friend-zone him,” I huff. “I told him I wasn’t sure how I was feeling, which is why I also told him that we should kiss again so—”
“YOU GUYS KISSED AGAIN?!” She curses in Spanish, I think. “Was there tongue this time?”
“Anna, why would you ask that?” I hiss as my neck gets hot. “We didn’t kiss again, and I wouldn’t tell you if there was tongue because that’s weird to discuss!”
“It’s not weird for me.” She shrugs a shoulder. “So, why didn’t another kiss happen if that’s what you wanted? Did Tatum not want to kiss again?”
“I’m going inside before I end up breaking my promise to you.”
“The timing wasn’t right,” I go with the simple explanation. “But it’s going to happen soon.”
She arches an eyebrow at me. “You’re planning it?”
“Not exactly,” I say, taking another bite out of my muffin. “The expectation is there but we didn’t, like, pick a time and place.”
That would just be weird.
“Do you think it’ll happen today?” she asks with wide eyes. “I mean, the grocery store doesn’t exactly scream romance to me, but you might be in the pasta aisle and suddenly you guys won’t be able to keep your hands and mouths off each other.”
I almost spit out my freaking muffin. “ANNA!”
I’ve never been this anxious about grocery shopping. Okay, well, I’ve never been this anxious about anything , and yet, here we are!
I thought having some cuddle time with Sprinkles would help ease my nerves, but then she was naughty and tried to chew on my donut pillow. After that, we had a very serious discussion about respecting donuts and the property of others.
My phone buzzes and I snatch it off the coffee table to see a text from Tate.
Tatum: Hey, I’m here.
Me: Okay, I’ll be down in a sec.
“Anna, I’m leaving!” I holler, tucking my phone into my back pocket. “I put Sprinkles back in her cage, but you can let her out if you want to. Text me if there’s anything else you need from the store!”
“Okay!” she calls from the bathroom. “I hope you guys kiss again! Even if it’s in the pasta aisle like I said!”
I can’t with her.
“Wish me luck?” I ask my Aragorn poster.
“ It’s not about luck. It’s about being with the right person. ”
Darn my sister and her perfect fortune cookie sayings.
“Never mind,” I mutter as I grab my crossbody bag. “Thanks anyway, I guess.”
To my surprise, none of our neighbors are roaming the hallway, so I’m able to go straight outside without getting trapped in any pointless conversations.
“Morning, Pink Stuff,” Tatum greets me as I get in his car. “Sleep well?”
Oh, snap, I think he’s wearing the cologne again.
The one I picked out for him.
UGH. It should be illegal to smell that great.
“I did,” I say, closing the passenger door. “I slept well. How about you?”
“Yeah, I slept all right. You got any other stops before we go to the grocery store?”
“Um, I don’t think so?” Stop staring at his mouth . “No, probably not. Do you?”
He doesn’t answer me though.
Instead, he reaches over and grabs my seatbelt while I’m holding my breath and panicking because our faces are so close to each other. I could kiss him. He could kiss me.
Spoiler alert: we don’t kiss.
Tatum buckles my seatbelt for me with the loudest click I’ve ever heard in my entire life, and I remind myself to start breathing again.
“Thanks,” I say, trying not to think about his lips touching mine. “You smell good.”
Anddddd now it’s going to look like I was sniffing him when he leaned across me to put my seatbelt on. Fantastic.
He grins, causing my heart to explode all over the freaking place. “Oh, yeah?”
Until now, I never knew those two words could sound hot as heck, and I am sat . Of course, I’ve been sitting this whole time, but you know what I mean.
“Yeah,” I choke out. “Is that the, uh, the cologne I helped you pick out? From the mall?”
He nods. “It’s my favorite one.”
Mine too .
However, I keep the confession to myself as I tuck my hands underneath my thighs. “I could’ve put my seatbelt on.”
“I know.”
“Kids are so lucky that they can be pushed around in the cart,” I muse as we walk through the produce section. “Why the heck do they hate it so much?”
Tatum raises an eyebrow at me. “Is this your way of asking me to ride in the shopping cart?”
“Noooooo.” I give him an innocent look. “Unless, of course, you’re offering.”
“I’m not.” He rolls his eyes and grabs some oranges like a good Florida boy. “There’s not enough room for you and the groceries.”
I fake a gasp. “Tatum Kenyon Jacobs, are you calling me fat?”
“Girl, I’m talking about those long legs of yours.”
His tone is sassy, but it’s also tainted with a hint of gruffness that has my stomach clenching.
“Oh.” I can’t seem to manage saying anything else. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to tell him Thanks for noticing my long legs .
“Did you want any fruit, Pink Stuff?”
“Grapes.” It’s the first fruit that comes to mind. “And uh…strawberries.”
Yes. Grapes and strawberries are good choices.
Tatum examines several cartons of strawberries before putting one in the cart, and then he does the same thing with several bags of grapes. “Okay, how about vegetables?”
I immediately wrinkle my nose at the dreaded v-word .
“Don’t make that face,” he scolds me with a laugh. “You were the one telling me a couple weeks ago that you wanted to start eating more greens.”
“It was only because I kept seeing videos about being healthier,” I grumble as we walk away from the fruit section. “They made eating greens look trendy and fun, but I’m not convinced anymore.”
“Spinach,” he says, holding up a bag of the evil leafy stuff. “We’ll get you some spinach to eat.”
Knowing he’s going to insist on this, I go ahead and take the bag from him. “Fine. We’ll get spinach .”
But I make another face as I put it in the cart.
He shoots me a stern look. “And you better not feed any of it to Sprinkles.”
“Wow, Tate.” I place a hand to my chest and feign being offended. “I can’t believe you would even suggest that I would ever—”
“Skye,” he interrupts me with a grimace, “don’t freak out, but I’m pretty sure that’s Zoya over there looking at peppers.”
“What?” My voice squeaks as I stare at him in disbelief. “Zoya? Zoya, as in my boss ?”
“Is there another Zoya in your life that I don’t know about?” he deadpans.
I glare at him. “You’re not funny. Let’s go to another area before she sees us!”
“Skye? Tatum? Ah! How are my favorite soon-to-be newlyweds?”
“Too late,” Tatum mutters, catching my arm to keep me from escaping. “She’s coming this way.”
Screw. Me.
“Hey, Zoya!” I greet her with an awkward wave. “Doing some grocery shopping?”
Tatum stifles a snort because obviously she’s grocery shopping.
We’re in a grocery store. That’s what people do at a grocery store. They shop for groceries.
“Yeah, I’m just picking up a few things for dinner,” she says, motioning to her little green shopping basket. “Hubby is cooking tonight, so I told him I would do a quick store-run.”
I really hope I only cringed on the inside at her usage of “hubby.”
“Anyway, I think it’s SO cute that you guys are having a little grocery shopping date!”
Since I’m supposed to be leaning into our fake relationship as practice for a possible real relationship between us, I thread my arm through Tatum’s and give him an affectionate squeeze.
Well, at least I think it comes across as affectionate.
“It was Tatum’s idea,” I coo, resting my head against his arm. “Isn’t he the sweetest?”
“I love it!” Zoya gushes with flailing hands. “Oh, speaking of love, your cake testing blog post has been getting so much attention! Especially since you also asked our readers to give flavor suggestions for your donut wall.”
That was a last-minute addition to my post, but if I was really getting married, I would definitely have a donut wall at the reception, so it just felt like the right move.
“Do you know what kind of wedding-themed post you’ll be sharing next?”
Anddddd that’s when my mind goes blank. Did Tate and I decide that we were choosing floral arrangements? Or did we decide that was lame? Crap, why did she have to—
“We’re actually going location-hunting today,” Tatum drawls, kissing the top of my head. “Isn’t that right, Skye?”
“Mmhmm.” I let my fingers trace the inside of his arm, and I fight the urge to grin when he stiffens under my touch. “I’ll make sure he takes lots of pictures.”
“Sounds good,” Zoya says with a smile. “I’m sure the two of you will pick the perfect place.” Her eyebrows crease as her smile morphs into a look of concern. “You’re not wearing your engagement ring, Skye?”