It Wasn't Me - Lani Lynn Vale Page 0,42

have time before my shift,” I offered.

She shook her head. “I told them we’d stop by tomorrow. He’s getting out today and sees no reason for me to come all the way up there. Plus, my mom said he’s in a really bad mood.”

I grinned. “Men don’t like feeling helpless. Even worse, they’re not very good patients to begin with. I’m sure your father is doing the best that he can given the situation.”

She shrugged.

“I’m just glad that he’s getting to go home,” she murmured, bringing her hand up to rub her face.

My eyes caught on the healing tattoo on her finger and something possessive inside of me had me stiffening my spine in resolve.

If she wasn’t pregnant…she would be soon.

Because I was going to make it so.

Her eyes slid to the side, and her face lit up.

“There!” She pointed to the counter.

My eyes went where she was pointing and sure enough, under a stack of mail, sat the shining sparkle of my keys.

“Whoops,” I said as I walked toward them. “I remember doing that now.”

She snickered.

With them in my hand, I was about to say ‘let’s go’ when my phone rang.

I sighed when I saw my brother’s name on the screen.

“Yeah?” I answered.

“You need to come pick up your uniform at the house,” he said. “I was going to try to drop it by, but I didn’t get the chance. Plus, I need to talk to you about something.”

I looked over at Piper who was gathering her purse up into her arms.

“Okay,” I said softly. “We’ll be there in a little while. We’re running by the grocery store first, then we’ll stop by there on our way home.”

“Our?” Downy rumbled into my ear, catching on my slip.

“Yeah, our,” I confirmed.

Then I hung up.

“Who was that, and where are we going?” she asked softly.

I shoved the phone back into my pocket and pocketed my keys as well.

“That was my brother,” I said. “He has my new uniform for work.”

“New uniform?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “Apparently I’m in some new department that they just opened up. And it requires a new uniform.”

She frowned.

“Well, okay then.”

***

Piper

I’d found a few things out about Jonah today that I didn’t like.

Like the fact that he wasn’t a junk food addict like I was.

He didn’t like anything sweet, and by anything, I mean nothing. No ice cream. No cookies. No snack cakes or bakery items. Every single item that I put into his cart he had something to say about.

Meaning, by the time we were done wandering through the aisles, I was fairly sure that our marriage wouldn’t last.

“This isn’t going to work,” I found myself saying. “We’re going to have to file for divorce.”

Jonah’s amused eyes met mine as he started to unload the stuff that we’d bought onto the conveyor belt behind an elderly man that looked like he was moving at the speed of a sloth.

“Why is that?” he asked.

I gestured to his pile of food, and then to mine. “Do you see the difference here?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Your stuff will cause you to have diabetes later in life, and mine won’t.”

I flipped him off. “I feel like I’m getting reprimanded every time you look at me when I put something into the cart.”

“That’s because you’re eating unhealthy. Your body needs proper nutrition to run at optimal performance. You’re feeding it junk,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m doing just fine. But, just to let you know, I have a sweet tooth. It’s something you’re going to have to get over. And if you give me that judgy look every single time I eat a Twinkie in your presence, I’m going to have to throat punch you.”

The chuckle that left him was sexy as hell.

I crossed my arms and glared at him.

“That was lazy,” Jonah muttered.

At first, I thought he was talking to me, but then I turned to find him staring at the woman that had been perusing the shelves behind me.

“What?” the woman hedged.

I could tell that she was embarrassed by the way her face was flushing with guilt.

“Walk your happy ass back to the cold section and put that back,” he ordered. “It doesn’t take much time or skill. You should be fine with the IQ you obviously bring to the table.”

My mouth thinned as I tried to hold the laughter at bay.

In the time that I’d been married to Jonah—a whole, blessed five days—I’d learned a lot about him.

One, he snored. Loudly.

Two, he was short with everyone and everything—even