I clutched the receipts tightly in my hand. I never wanted to see another grocery store again. I was gonna do it all online from now. I’d been to every damn store in Key West to get as many strawberries as I could.
I swear, by the time I entered the last Publix, there was a security guard following the weird redhead buying everyone’s strawberries.
And I was over them.
Strawberries, that was. Not Publix. They’d provided me the aspirin I needed for my damn headache from this day.
The bright side was that I knew Grandpa was safely locked in his room—for now—my mom was waking up from her tequila-induced nap, and rumor had it that Celia had slipped my sister something by telling her it was paracetamol, and she’d been sleeping for the last hour.
I wished someone would slip me something. Like a shot of vodka.
I asked for the Mr. Suit at the desk. Using his real name, of course. But Mr. Suit sounded better in my head.
“Ms. Dunn.” Resting his hand on my elbow, he pulled me aside. “Did you get the strawberries?”
“Cleared the entire place out of them,” I told him. “And as soon as you reimburse me, you can have them from my trunk.” I held the receipts out to him.
He unfolded them, eyes flitting back and forth frantically as he added up each total. “Three hundred dollars on strawberries?”
“Do you want my sister to find out about this?”
His spine straightened. “No, no, of course not. Will you take a check?”
“You told me cash.” I folded my arms. I needed that money to pay my damn rent. “But I’ll accept a bank transfer.”
“Very well, very well. Cash, I can do.” He waved me into the main office. There was a small safe in the corner, and I raised my eyebrows as he prodded in a code.
That didn’t seem very safe to me, but what did I know?
I just wanted my money back.
I waited patiently for him to count out three hundred dollars and secure it in a brown envelope.
Why the hell did I feel like I was executing a drug deal?
“Thank you,” I said, taking the envelope. “Can you have someone come out with some crates? My car is full.”
“Of course. Ten minutes.” He nodded, signaling that I should leave.
I did just that and almost walked right into Adam.
“Whoa, Red. Careful.” He touched my arms and looked down at me with a smile. “Where’ve you been? Drug deal?”
“Shit. You caught me.” I rolled my eyes. “No, I had to go on a mission. Walk to my car with me?” I started walking before he could say no.
“Like a secret mission?” he asked, catching up with me.
“I wish. It would have been more fun with a cape and a mask.” I sighed. “Remember how I fake-remembered to help Rosie earlier?”
He side-eyed me. “Oh, that was fake? I couldn’t tell.”
I nudged him with my elbow. “Well, turned out, there was a real issue. The hotel has run out of chicken.”
“How does a hotel run out of chicken?”
“Something to do with a supplier. Anyway, I sent Rosie to bed because she was this close to having a heart attack.” I pinched my finger and thumb together to show him just how close. “And the guy tells me they are also about to run out of strawberries.”
Adam rubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw. “I think I can see where this is going.”
“Right. So, I told him he had until I got back to find a new chicken supplier and get it here first thing tomorrow morning, and I’d go on a strawberry hunt.”
“Don’t say it.”
“Yep. I’ve spent the last hour or so looking like a crazy woman, and…” I unlocked my car and popped the trunk. “Voila. If you need strawberries in Key West, you’re shit outta luck, because I bought them all.”
“How many strawberries do you need?”
“Three hundred dollars’ worth.”
“Are you serious?”
I turned to face him. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
“No. I’m just wondering why the hell three hundred dollars’ worth of strawberries is necessary.”
Leaning against the side of my car, I said, “Because I’m petty as fuck, and they needed a lesson taught to them.”
“That…weirdly makes sense to me. I can see my sisters doing the same thing to me one day.”
I grinned. “Then don’t make this mistake.”
“Noted. Are they coming to get them?”
“No, they’re staying in my car until they’re ready for them.”
“Poppy.” He drew closer to me, cupping my chin. His thumb stroked the curve of my lower lip as he dipped his head, bringing his mouth closer to mine. “Stop running your mouth.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll make you.”
“You can try.”
In hindsight, challenging him like that was a bad idea.
Gripping my hip, he pulled me right against him, bringing his lips to mine for God knows how many times today. I didn’t care—kissing him was like flying. Everything else melted away when Adam held my body against his and our lips came together.
He cupped the back of my neck, his other arm clamping around my lower back. My hands fisted in his shirt, grabbing the collar of the polo as I leaned into him.
Something inside me—my heart, my soul, whatever—sighed. And no part of me had any business sighing at anything when he kissed me.
Some kisses were fairytale ones. Heart-thumping, foot-popping, soul-sighing kisses.
I’d always imagined mine would on a first date or under a sunset or after the ‘L’ word.
But, no. My fairytale kiss, my heart-thumping, foot-popping, soul-sighing kiss, was standing in a parking lot next to a car full of three hundred dollars’ worth of strawberries, with a guy who was kissing me to shut my smartass mouth up.
I didn’t want to think about how much more appropriate that was for me than something romantic.
A throat cleared behind us, and before I’d even turned, my cheeks were burning.
The young guy who’d obviously cleared his throat shifted. “The, uh—Mr. Smith sent us to get the strawberries.”
I swallowed, stepping away from Adam. “Right there. Please take them before they get fried.”
Adam covered his mouth with his hand, dipping his head. His shoulders gave away his light chuckle, and I jabbed him with my elbow.
That was all his fault.
We waited in silence until the team of porters had moved all the strawberries into crates and into their wheelie-things. It took them a good fifteen minutes, and I hoped like hell they had a decent fridge to keep them cool.
They thanked me and left. I slammed the trunk shut and locked my car, the beep sounding extra loud in the silence of the parking lot.
“That was awkward,” Adam announced, grinning.
“Story of my life,” I muttered, stuffing my keys into my ass pocket. “Did Mark find you earlier?”
He nodded. “Rory talked my ear off for forty-five minutes before Mark finally convinced him to get ice cream.”
“He picked you over ice cream?” I raised my eyebrows. “Wow. He must really love you.”
Shifting, he answered, “Yeah, I sometimes have that effect on kids.”
“Aw, now what’s awkward?”
“I just… Yeah.” He rolled his shoulder, reaching behind to rub the back of his neck. A tiny smile played on his lips. “I don’t see myself the way Rory does. I just play hockey ‘cause I love it, Red. I don’t do it to be some kind of superhero.”
“It just comes with the territory, right?” I leaned back against the car.
“Sometimes. I still don’t believe I’m a hero.”
“Tell that to my dad.”
“Exactly my point.”
I smiled at him. I couldn’t pretend to get it, because I didn’t. I would never understand how he viewed his world because it was so very different from mine. Sure, I didn’t care about what he was.
I had no reason to care. Not really. Not personally.
“All right. Enough of that.” He clapped his hands and wiped them on his shorts. “What time is the dinner tonight?”
“Six-thirty. So I need to be there for at least five-thirty.”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “All right…So, what you’re saying is we have time to go up to our room and finish what we started earlier.”
“No. I have to find the wedding planner since my sister is drugged and asleep.”
Adam looked at me, face void of all expression. “If I hadn’t seen her so anxious this morning, that would seriously concern me.”
“You’re not concerned?”