Drop Dead Sexy

“That’s very sweet.”

“Speaking of sweet…” Catcher held up a container of a half dozen cupcakes. “I kinda have an addiction to cupcakes.”

“You do?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise.

Catcher appeared affronted. “Can’t a man like a cupcake without it emasculating him?”

With a laugh, I replied, “My apologies.”

He grinned. “It’s not exactly classy, but what about cupcakes for dessert?”

“Are they vanilla cake with buttercream icing?”

After examining the label, Catcher answered, “Yes.”

“Then I’m all in.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Catcher said before a brief kiss on my lips.

I’d never in a million years imagined a grocery store could be romantic. But in that moment, I felt like I was in the middle of a sugary-sweet RomCom, and I loved every minute of it.

“What’s your favorite meat?” Catcher asked. Before I could answer, he added, “Well, excluding my dick.”

I rolled my eyes. “You really need help for the innuendos.”

“Like an Innuendo Anonymous meeting?”

“Something like that.”

“It would probably be a waste of time because whenever someone would get up to tell their story, some other ass would find something sexual in what they said.”

I laughed. “Good point.”

Catcher then stopped the cart in front of the seafood counter. “I was thinking about some pan-seared salmon. How does that sound?”

“Delicious. I love salmon.”

“Good.”

“Can I make just one request?”

“Sure.”

“That you buy that kind.” I pointed to the tray filled with descaled salmon.

“Why those?”

“It’s silly really, but I’m not a big fan of seeing the scales or having eyeballs looking up at me.”

Catcher laughed as he waved the attendant over. “No scales it is.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, babe.”

And just like that, I was back to floating along in my grocery store RomCom.





We didn’t take too long at the store, and before long, we were back on the road to Catcher’s house. After we’d traveled for ten minutes, Catcher eased the car off the main highway onto a two-lane road. “Have you lived out here long?”

“About two years. My parents retired from teaching at Westminster Prep in Atlanta ten years ago, and they wanted to move out of the city to the country. They found this place with ten acres. They gave my brother, sister, and me each two acres. Jem built his house right away, and then he and I worked on mine for probably a year or two. Doing a little here and there when we could.”

After making a right turn, we started down a small paved road. “That’s my parents’ house,” Catcher said, pointing to a two-story colonial with a wide, wrap-around porch.

“Wow, that’s beautiful,” I replied, as he stopped the car to let me get a good look.

He leaned across me and pointed to a Cape Cod on the right. “And there’s Jem’s.”

I smiled when I saw the white picket fence yard was filled with toys. “How many children does he have?”

Catcher rolled his eyes. “Four and another on the way.”

I turned in my seat with surprise. “Five children?”

“Three girls and two boys—well, the third girl is on the way. Jem always wanted a houseful of kids. Thankfully, he found a chick who felt the same way. They got married at twenty and started popping kids out like clock-work after she finished her teaching degree two years later.”

I peered curiously at him. “It doesn’t much sound like you like kids.”

He shook his head. “I love kids.”

“Then why did you roll your eyes about Jem’s kids?”

“Because I don’t want a houseful like he has. Give me one or two, and I’ll be fine.”

I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until my lungs screamed in agony for relief. I exhaled in a long whoosh. “Thought I was a heartless bastard who didn’t want kids, eh?” Catcher asked.

A nervous laugh bubbled from my lips. “No, no. I wasn’t thinking that at all.”

“Of course you were.”

“Okay, maybe I was.” I held my thumb and forefinger close together. “Maybe a little.”

“I knew I was right.”

“You’re so cocky.”

He glanced down at his crotch and then back over to me. “Don’t we know it?”

“Catcher, please.”

He held up one of his hands. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop. I can assume that you want kids one day from the reaction you had to me potentially not wanting them.”

“Yes. I do want kids. I want them very much.” I stared down at my hands. “It’s an unfulfilled dream to be a mother…and a wife.” The moment the words left my lips, I cringed. I had just committed one of the cardinal sins of dating. I’d been emotionally slutty by revealing too much about my relationship goals. Admitting I wanted to get married would probably have Catcher shriveling in his seat.