Chapter Thirty-Five
Jade
It was well past eleven by the time we finally got around to leaving the cottage, but the orgasm was totally worth the rumbling stomach.
We found a cute little diner that would have been within walking distance if Brian’s leg was better, so it turned out to be a four-minute drive from the cottage’s driveway to the establishment’s parking lot.
As we walked toward the entrance, Brian reached for my hand. I glanced up at him with a puzzled look but intertwined my fingers with his.
His answer to my unspoken question sent a shiver down my spine. “You belong to me while we’re here, remember?”
“I thought that was only when we were naked.”
“Nope. Twenty-four-seven.”
“Well, then I think it’s only fair you belong to me, too.”
He pulled open the door and held it for me. As I walked past him, he replied, “I completely agree.”
What the heck?
I had no idea what the hostess asked or how he answered, I was too busy replaying his words in my head, trying to figure out what they meant.
The next thing I knew, we were in a booth with coffees in front of us, and I was staring at the menu like it was written in another language.
He must have noticed I was discombobulated because he reached across the table and grabbed my hand.
“You okay, Sunshine?”
“Are we—” I glanced around, a lifetime in Haven Springs made me check who might be watching. “Are we really doing this?”
He flipped the menu to look at the backside without even glancing over at me. “Doing what?”
“Pretending like we’re a couple?”
Finally, he looked me in the eye. “I’m not pretending. We agreed it would be us while we’re here.” He shrugged and went back to studying the menu. “This is what us looks like to me.”
I blinked at him across the table, menu forgotten.
Well, crap.
I thought I’d signed up for ten days of hot sex, not whatever this was shaping up to be.
But I had no desire to take my hand back. In fact, I gave his a little squeeze before teasing, “I thought you said you weren’t boyfriend material. You’re doing a pretty good job of selling it.”
He brought his coffee to his lips and paused with a grin. “I’m not selling anything, Sunshine. It’s the real deal.”
“While we’re here,” I reminded him.
He studied me while he took a sip, then put the mug back on the table. His grin was gone when he reiterated, “Yeah, while we’re here.”
I told myself I should be relieved he was in agreement. Drawing the line made it safer. But the pinch of disappointment caught me off guard. I forced a smile and dropped my eyes to the menu, pretending to be absorbed in the omelet section.
****
Brian
Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes before she looked back at the menu. I’d caught a flicker of something—disappointment?—before she looked away, but I let it go.
Ten days—that was all I could give her. It was all I was capable of. And the only reason I could even do that was because we weren’t in Haven Springs.
So, I sipped my coffee and acted like being with her only temporarily was easy, even though it was anything but.
We were playing pretend in Cape Cod.
And I was going to pretend-love her like it was my job.
~~~~
Before we left the diner, Jade pulled up her phone and found Mona’s—a clothing boutique nearby. I opened the passenger’s door for her out of habit, then remembered I was the one riding shotgun, like I was a felon with a suspended license who had to have his woman drive him everywhere.
Suck it up, buttercup. If I could drive, she wouldn’t be here.
That was all the reminder I needed to quit feeling like a baby about being in the passenger seat.
The clothing store was small, tucked between a bakery and a real estate office.
When we stepped inside, cool air hit us with a faint hint of lavender.
An older woman with bleached-blonde hair pulled back in a bun, wearing a purple and lime green kaftan and gold, chunky jewelry called out, “Welcome! I’m Mona, let me know if you need anything! ”
Racks of sundresses and t-shirts filled the space, and Jade went straight for them, flipping through hangers with quick, decisive movements. I hung back, hands in my pockets, letting her do her thing.
She drifted toward a rack near the back, and within two minutes Mona was bringing her dresses from other parts of the store because “they’d look good on her”.
Jade laughed and took it all in stride. Before long, she was chatting with other customers.
I think she even got invited to someone’s wedding, and another woman’s grandson’s sixth birthday party.
And I just stood there, taking it in, not caring if I looked useless for not doing more than leaning against the wall and watching her in awe.
When she disappeared into the fitting room, I waited. Then the curtain slid open, and the only coherent thing I could utter was, “Wow.” She turned in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem of a mint-green sleeveless sundress, completely oblivious to the effect she had on me.
“You’re getting it,” I said before she could even ask what I thought.
She wrinkled her nose. “It’s a little pricier than what I wanted to spend.”
“Well, since you’re not paying, it doesn’t matter.”
Her arms crossed. “Brian, you haven’t let me pay for anything—gas, snacks, the hotel, breakfast... now my clothes too?”
“You’re catching on. You’re with me while we’re here. That means I take care of you. End of discussion.”
She rolled her eyes, but the twitch at the corner of her mouth gave her away. She liked the idea of being taken care of.
And I liked being the one doing it.
She came out of the fitting room with the sundress, two vintage t-shirts, and a pair of shorts draped over her arm. She held them like she wasn’t sure she should even be buying that much.
“That’s it?” I asked.
She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t want to overdo it. You’ve already—”
“Jade.” I shook my head. “You packed two outfits and we’re here for another nine days. Grab another couple pairs of shorts and some shirts. And some jeans and a sweatshirt or sweater for any cool nights. Get a pair of sandals, too.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Brian—”
“Don’t argue with me.” I jerked my chin toward the racks. “Go.”
Mona smothered a smile, and Jade gave me a look that suggested she was resigned to not arguing in front of the woman, but this wasn’t over. A little huff escaped her lips, followed by something muttered under her breath, and then she turned back into the aisles to go through more racks.
When everything was stacked on the counter and Mona was ringing it up, she glanced over at me and asked, “Are you sure about this? This is way more than I need, Bri.”
“I’m positive. You need clothes while we’re here, so I’m buying you clothes.” I gave her a wink. “I take care of what’s mine, Sunshine.”
She needed to get used to being included in that.
At least while we were at the Cape.
Mona finished ringing up the clothes and gave the grand total, which honestly, was less than I expected.
Jade, on the other hand, blurted out, “Oh my gosh,” and dug into her bag for her wallet. “I can’t let you spend that much!”
I slid my cash across the counter before she could even open her wallet. “Too late.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Brian—”
“Don’t waste your breath, Sunshine.” I kept my gaze on Mona, who smirked like she’d seen this scene play out before. She took my money without hesitation and counted out change.
Jade shoved her wallet back into her bag with a grumbled, “You’re impossible.” Then she added a quieter, “Thank you.”
I almost chuckled as I pocketed the change, but bit it back and kept my expression even. She had no idea how much I enjoyed buying things for her.
Picking up the bags, I told her. “Now you’re set until we go home”
As we stepped outside, she slipped her hand into mine, a silent thank you all its own.
****
Jade
Grocery shopping felt weirdly domestic, especially after Brian went clothes shopping with me—without complaint. One minute he was helping me pick out a dress, the next he was steering a cart down the produce aisle beside me while we debated the merits of Granny Smith apples versus MacIntosh.
It shouldn’t have felt like anything, but there was something about the ordinary rhythm of it—picking out cereal, comparing coffee, him tossing things into the cart that I’d never choose—that made it hard to remember this was only supposed to be temporary, just until we were back in Haven Springs.
It was obvious by our selections that we ate very differently. Brian dropped in things like steak, bacon, eggs, and a loaf of wheat bread. I added salmon, a bag of spinach, peppers, a carton of blueberries, and the skim milk I usually kept in my fridge.
“Snacks,” he said, grabbing a family-size bag of chips and tossing it in.
I smiled. “I figured you’d say that.”
“Good. You’re finally learning.” He added cookies on top of the pile. “For when we want something yummy later.”
“The chips and the ice cream I know you’re going to buy when we get to the freezer section aren’t yummy enough?” I teased.
His mouth curved, slow and deliberate. “Never too much of a good thing, Sunshine.”
I shook my head but didn’t protest. It wasn’t often I let myself indulge, and I had to admit, there was something fun about it when he was the one insisting.
A few aisles later, he parked us in front of the freezer case and glanced over. “What do you like?”
“Vanilla,” I replied, reaching for a pint.
Brian raised a brow.
“What?” I shot back. “I like vanilla.”
His lips twisted into a wicked smile. “Just not what I would have thought you’d pick after last night.” He grabbed cookies and cream for himself and set it next to the vanilla in the cart.
My face went hot. “You’re impossible.”
He leaned closer as he pushed the cart forward, voice low enough only I could hear. “You know I’m right. I’ll prove it when we get back to the cottage.”
Heat curled low in my belly, and I suddenly had no opinion on the rest of the frozen food aisle. Luckily, he steered us toward the registers.
While I stacked the last of our haul onto the conveyor belt, Brian peeled bills from his wallet and set them on the counter before I could even reach for mine.
“Brian—”
“Don’t.” His tone left no room for argument.
I shut my mouth, but when the cashier handed him the change, I murmured, “Thank you.”
Brian winked and replied, “Of course, Sunshine,” before setting the final bag in the basket.
I pushed the cart toward the exit with his hand steady at the small of my back.
Outside, the afternoon sun was high in the sky, making the air warm and humid, and I could smell the faint scent of freshly cut grass.
We moved across the asphalt lot, then unloaded the bags into the back of his truck, working like a team.
I returned the cart while he loaded the last of the bags and closed the tailgate.
When I reached the driver’s door, he’d already opened it for me.
Sliding into the seat, I told myself this was just groceries, nothing more. But as he rounded the hood and climbed in beside me, I couldn’t shake how easy it had felt. Too easy. And if I wasn’t careful, I’d start wishing for more than temporary.