let’s talk about something else. Tell me about that contract you signed at work.”
Grinning, I stared at his profile. “It’s the same thing I’m already doing, but for more money and exclusivity…”
He kept asking questions, so I kept telling him about The Herald, what I’d be doing and how often I’d have to drive to the office. By the time I was done, we had made it to the high-end market.
“I underestimated how attracted I am to your intelligence and business acumen,” he said me as we parked. “I’m hard as a rock.”
I took off my seatbelt. “What can I do to help?”
“Stop looking at me like that, Zola,” he warned with a laugh. “You’re not helping.”
“Come on,” I giggled. “We don’t want your condo to catch on fire.”
“Shit, you’re right.”
“I’ll stand in front of you.”
He looked at me in exasperation. “You’re trying to make it worse?”
I laughed. “Come on.”
We walked into the store laughing and joking. He grabbed a handbasket and held it in front of him to block prying eyes from the bulge that was still noticeable in his jeans. It was funny, but I also was glad that he was covering it up.
“Hey, it’s this way,” he told me, grabbing my hand and gently tugging me in the right direction.
My heart skipped a beat.
I shifted out of the way of an oncoming shopper and noticed that we were still holding hands. I knew what we looked like and for whatever reason, I didn’t immediately pull away.
“There it is,” he said, bringing my hand to his lips to kiss my knuckles before letting me go to grab the Shaoxing wine.
Pretending my hand was a piece of paper, I wrote the name of the wine down with my imaginary pen. “Shaoxing wine,” I stage whispered.
Saint playfully slapped my hand and then pretended he was ripping the paper. “Are you trying to steal my recipe?”
I feigned shock. “What? Me? No?”
“You dirty little thief,” he growled, grabbing my other hand and snatching my pen. “Try to write without this.” He cocked his arm back and threw the imaginary pen over into a different aisle.
My head fell back, and I laughed so hard that no sound came out. I had tears in my eyes as I held my side.
“Is everything okay?” a woman asked.
He chuckled, putting his arm around me. “She’s okay. She’s had a little too much to drink.”
That made me laugh even harder. I held on to him to keep me upright as he navigated us around people and toward the register.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked him as I caught my breath. “Did you see that lady’s face when you threw my pen?”
“Oh, she called store security,” he chuckled.
“She definitely did. When she asked me if I was okay, I know she thought something went down and I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to tell her.”
“And I felt like me telling her I was throwing an imaginary pen wasn’t going to help the situation.”
“Can you two lovebirds move up in line?” the man behind us snapped.
Suddenly I became hyper aware of Saint’s arm around my shoulders. It was so natural. Even as we shifted forward, I remained tucked under his arm.
“It’s about time,” the man said gruffly.
Saint removed his arm from around me and turned all the way around. The man averted eye contact and stared down into his basket. Saint returned to his forward-facing position and slipped his arm around me. He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I bet he won’t say anything else.”
“Oh, definitely not,” I agreed, fighting the shiver his whisper sent down my spine.
“Don’t smile at me like that,” he warned.
“Or what?”
He held my gaze and licked his lips.
Giggling, I looked away from him and locked eyes with the last person I wanted to see.
I looked away, hoping he didn’t recognize me. But with my peripheral vision, I saw him head toward the exit nearest us and not the one in the opposite direction.
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.
“Zola…” He dragged my name out and it sounded like nails dragging across a chalkboard.
I exhaled. “Hello, Cam,” I greeted him carefully as he walked over to us.
“Good to see you.” He shifted his gaze to Saint. “What’s up?”
Saint reached his hand out. “What’s up?”
Cameron looked at his hand for a moment before shaking it. Without a word to him, he looked at me. “So, what’s up with you? I called you and I never heard back.”
“I’ve been busy. Just