“STOP THINKING,” JOEY says as we pull up outside the grocery store in my car.
He shocked me on the boat when he asked me to spend the night with him. I keep reminding myself that we are two consenting adults. It doesn’t mean anything that he asked, or that I said yes.
Ever practical, we also need to eat dinner.
I have zero appetite, it’s been taken over by a bundle of nerves. But Joseph, being a guy, has to eat before having sex apparently.
“God knows I’ve had to.”
“Stop thinking?” I’m finding it hard to even stay focused on the conversation because I can’t stop thinking.
Sex.
Joseph.
Spending the night.
Sex.
In his bed. All night.
Sex with Joseph.
Again. Not a great idea.
“Actually, you’ve made it impossible to think straight.” He turns to me and fingers a piece of my hair that’s come out of my hastily tied up bun. “You always have.”
I mash my lips together. “I don’t understand you.”
“I’m tired.” He leans back in his seat and smiles ruefully, looking unseeing out the front windshield.
“What does that even mean?”
“I’ve spent years feigning indifference to you.” He shakes his head.
It’s been feigned? Could have fooled me.
“But it’s like the damn elephant in the room every time we’re around each other. It makes me say stupid shit. It makes you say shit that drives me insane.”
“Thanks.”
“All I’m saying is I’m tired of pretending. I’m not,” his eyes roam my face and drop to my mouth, “indifferent.”
My heart punctuates his statement with a hard beat. “Gee, thanks. I’m completely flattered. Seduced even.”
He acknowledges my sarcasm. “And I can guarantee I will always cock up and say the wrong thing. Or do the wrong thing.”
A nervous laugh sneaks out of me. “That’s a racing certainty.”
“But please don’t overthink … this … right now.”
“What? Overthink getting groceries?” I ask.
“Just do me a favor and take it at face value. For now.”
Overthink us? I’d never dare. He’s still on the fence. Half acknowledging his feelings. Half not getting too close. It makes old anger and resentment surface, but I shove it down. What would it accomplish right now? I’m leaving soon anyway.
He laughs lightly. “Come on. Steak and salad?”
“Sure,” I say breezily, getting out of the car.
“IT’S A ZUCCHINI,” I say emphatically as we stand in the vegetable aisle at the Pig.
“It’s a squash,” Joseph argues.
I grab the offending vegetable out of his hand and brandish it in his face. “It may be squash family, but people don’t call them squash, they call them …” I look down at the phallic object in my left hand and the two tomatoes I’ve just grabbed in my right and suddenly get an attack of the giggles. “Ok, never mind.” I set everything back.
Joseph rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “You’re such a child.”
“Tell me you didn’t think Nature’s Dildo right then.”
“Jazz,” he lowers his voice, his eyes darting around. But apparently we are the only one’s buying vegetables at the moment.
I roll my eyes. “You’re so easy to shock.” I lean close to him. “Dildo,” I whisper. “Can you say it without going into spastic shock?”
“I’m not saying it. Now grab the salad. I want to get home, I’m starving.”
“Dildo,” I say.
“Stop it.”
“I’ll stop when you say it.”
“No.”
“Go on,” I urge. “You’re so restrained. It’ll loosen you up. C’mon.”
“No. Stop it. And I’m not restrained.”
“Yes, you are. It’s driving you crazy that Jack Eversea’s probably schtupping your sister. Right. This. Moment.”
“Jazz,” he warns.
I purse my lips. “Can’t bear for her to be having fun.”
“It’s not that. It’s him. It’s—”
“Joseph,” I whine. “Say it.”
“Dildo.” He huffs the word out, spitting it off his tongue he’s so exasperated with me. Then his eyes go wide, and damn but I’ve never seen Joseph blush. His face goes beet red. I turn around and see Pastor McDaniel paused with a head of lettuce in his hands.
“Pastor,” I murmur in greeting.
Holy shit.
Whoops.
“Miss Fraser,” he returns, then looks at Joseph. “Mr. Butler.”
“Hi.” Joey sounds hoarse.
“Seeing you in Church this Sunday?” The pastor looks back and forth between Joseph and me.
How does he do that? We’re not even sinning. We’re standing in the middle of the vegetable section at the Piggly Wiggly.
“We haven’t sinned yet,” I say, earning a choked sound from Joseph. “But we plan to. Tonight actually. So all going well, I guess we will see you Sunday. To repent and all.” I wink.
Pastor McDaniel’s eyes bug, and he clears his throat, putting the head of lettuce back. “You’re just like your mother,” he says. His words drip with disgust.
I bristle, my stomach flooding with acid.
Joey tenses at my side.
“What the hell does that mean?” I ask.