Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,48

. . uh, I guess Cal thought it was best if I don’t go back there right now. You know . . . ”

He was uncomfortable now, those brown eyes a little pained. Cal made a growling sound in the back of his throat. “Kid’s safer here.”

He’d spent the whole weekend telling Jenna he didn’t want responsibilities and a family—hell, the man didn’t even have a plant—and yet here he was, stepping up because the brother he never knew about needed him.

Yeah, she would have fallen in love with this Cal.

“Cal said he only grocery shops for milk and eggs. His food options are really pathetic,” Asher grumbled. “And I get to meet my brothers tonight, so we need something to make for dinner.”

Cal rolled his eyes. “We’re here, aren’t we?

Jenna smiled and tossed the brownie box she was holding into their cart. Cal looked at it like it was a snake. “What’s that for?”

Jenna had already begun to push her cart away, Asher following her. “What did you say?”

He pointed to the box and grunted.

Jenna wasn’t in the mood for his lack of conversation skills. She had a headache. “Brownies,” she said dryly.

“I know they’re brownies. What’re they for?”

“They aren’t for anything. It’s just a box of brownie mix.”

“If they aren’t for anything, then why are they in my cart?”

Asher’s head was shifting back and forth between the two of them. Jenna fought her irritation. “Because everyone should have brownie mix on hand. It’s like Keeping House 101.”

Cal leaned back and placed a hand on his chest. “Well, damn. No one told me that. I guess I’ve been failing Keeping House 101 for ten fucking years then.”

“Can you not swear in the baked goods aisle, Cal?”

“Can you not throw random shit we don’t need in the cart?”

She threw up her hands. “Fine, put the brownies back on the shelf. I don’t care.”

Cal studied the boxes in front of him and then placed the brownies Jenna had picked back on the shelf. She watched, arms over her chest, as he picked up a box labeled Chocolate Chunk and tossed that in his cart instead.

He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

She tapped her fingers on her elbows. “Really?”

He drew an imaginary check mark in the air. “Chocolate Chunk beats Ultimate Fudge. Just saying.”

She pursed her lips, trying to hide a smile, because this all felt incredibly domestic.

Asher followed her over to the next aisle, where they checked out the cereal. Asher bit his lip. “I usually just have a granola bar with breakfast.”

“What kind of granola bars?” Jenna asked.

“Whatever’s on sale.”

She smiled and placed a hand on his arm. “Okay, well, how about this—I have an amazing recipe for homemade granola bars. I swear, once you get Jenna-granola, you don’t go back. I can make them and bring them over, okay?”

“Really?” Asher said, a huge grin on his face.

“Sure. They’re easy, and I’m running low.”

Asher turned to Cal. “She makes her own granola bars.”

“I heard, kid.”

CAL FOLLOWED BEHIND Jenna and Asher, watching as they discussed groceries and as his cart filled with food he wasn’t sure he’d ever bought in his life. They were in the dairy aisle, talking about yogurt, and he wandered over to the pharmacy.

Asher had frowned at Cal’s cigarettes this morning, and while the kid didn’t say anything, the dislike was clear on his face. Jenna’s “They’ll kill you” echoed in his head on repeat. His relationship with cigarettes was long and uncomplicated. They were like a best friend in a way, one that was always there and soothed his nerves. And all they asked for in return was a couple years off of his life.

No big deal.

He picked up a brand of nicotine patches hanging above a shelf. He read the label: To increase your success in quitting, you must be motivated to quit.

Was he? They sure made him feel good. Brent was so used to his smoking that he hadn’t said much when Cal headed out on their balcony to light up. But Asher didn’t need to be around it, for the smell to seep into his hair and clothes.

So Cal threw the patch in the cart, and then grabbed the next patch in the plan, and then the next. And he felt like crying a little as he broke up with a best friend.

Good ol’ Nico Nicotine. “It was good while it lasted,” he mumbled to himself.

By the time they headed to checkout, Cal’s only contribution to his own household’s food was to add