32 Cate #2
That little awkward turn and the muscles I use to get out of the door’s way remind me, and not so gently, of being with Shane.
I love you is said with ease, and husband and wife rolls off the tongue.
The assumption that everything will be the same as it is now once we return to LA makes my heart flutter. I believe in us.
The groundwork for a solid foundation—trust, honesty, a deep connection, and the physical—makes me feel invincible with him. We’re a team we’ve created to take on the world together.
Entering the store hand in hand, I glance at him, walking with his head down and sunglasses covering his eyes. He is either truly in tune with how the world sees him or has no idea that sunglasses don’t disguise him like he thinks they do. It’s probably somewhere down the middle.
The cashier stands straight from where she was leaning against the register when she sees us. “Welcome to Grocer.” I’m thinking the abrupt change in body language isn’t for my benefit.
The store is tiny compared to grocery stores back in LA, so the pharmacy sign pointing to the back of the store is easy to find.
“Hey,” I say, stopping in front of an aisle containing wildlife feed.
“I’m going to run to the back and get what I need.
Meet you at the register . . .” I check the time on my watch. “In say, ten minutes?”
“I’m going to look for some healthy juice shots.
Do you prefer beets or turmeric?” I love how he thinks he will find that here when the vegetable section is practically nonexistent, and we’re literally standing in an aisle of food for wild animals.
Maybe he will. At least it will keep him busy while I pick up my prescription. “I’m good with either.”
Walking backward, he says, “Got to replenish for our afternoon activities.”
I thought I was okay letting him walk away from me, but that wink and click of his tongue just made my entire body tighten in anticipation. I’m running back to him, jumping into his arms, and kissing this man simply because I can. He’s mine, and I’m his.
He caught me with a thud, one hand protectively on the back of my head and the other under my ass. Our mouths part, and I lower my feet back to the linoleum. Watching him lick me from his lips is an aphrodisiac that has me wanting to detour back out to the parking lot.
I look around. The place is basically empty.
Bending down, he whispers, “What’s on your mind, pussycat?”
Who am I? I’m actually considering having sex in public? I sure am glad I left my comfort zone back in LA because this is what he does to me. And I’m not saying no to the possibility.
But I should get my prescription first. Nothing sounds appealing about walking back in here after having fresh sex in a Ferrari. The shame would eat me alive before I could get what I need. Baby steps, Cate.
Speaking of babies, get your prescription.
“I’ll be quick.” I pull away, the tip of our fingers the last contact shared before we’re out of reach.
He shoves his hands in his pockets, probably able to read every naughty thought I was having about him. As soon as I round the corner to the nearest aisle, I rush to the back of the store.
I reach the counter and lift to see if I can find anyone working. A man walks from a back room with his eyes on a pill bottle. His eyes spy me over the top of his glasses, and he detours in my direction. “How can I help you?”
“Hi, I had my prescription transferred to this pharmacy this morning.”
He starts typing on a keyboard. “Name?”
“Catalina Farin. It was transferred by—”
“Yes, I see it here.” He shifts back in front of me, and says, “Unfortunately, we’ve had to order it. We should get it in with deliveries this Tuesday.”
“It’s Saturday,” I say, like I need the confirmation. “I don’t understand. In LA, they’d have it ready in an hour. We’re not even three hours away from the city.”
“You do have that option.”
“Of going to LA to pick it up?”
“I’m sorry. We’re a small pharmacy. We can’t carry everything, and it’s a holiday weekend.
I can offer you a different type. We have samples.
” He opens his drawer and starts rummaging through it.
He’s offering me birth control shoved in a catchall drawer?
This is an adventure indeed, and not the good kind.
“Let’s just make sure they’re not out of date. ”
“It’s hormonal.” He knows this already as a pharmacist, so it’s an odd suggestion.
I glance at the wall to the right of me covered in a hundred varieties of fishing lures, wondering how they can carry so much of the same thing but not one of the most popular brands of birth control in the country.
Their different priorities have my thoughts racing to figure out another plan since this one didn’t work out. “I can’t just switch for a few days.”