His words hit me unexpectedly and like usual when he was around, I felt like crying. “Oh, sure,” I said quickly. I tried to replace the defenses around my heart, but it was too late. He’d penetrated them too quickly. “It’s not fair of me to ask you to small talk about… ice cream. I’m sure you have other things to do.”
I yanked my cart back, ready to make a fast retreat when he stopped me with a chuckle. “Kate,” he called. “I meant that I’m having a hard time grocery shopping. I don’t know how to do this.” He gestured around him with a lazy flick of his hand. “You used to… it used to be your thing. I’m completely out of my element.”
As sharp and shocking as rejection hit me, the sweet pulse of relief was just as strong. I swayed with the dizzying notion and then immediately berated myself for letting him control my emotions like this.
Letting him still control my emotions like this.
“Want some help?” I offered gently.
He tugged on his earlobe while he weighed my question. I could see indecision flicker in his bright blue eyes. He wanted to know what this would cost him.
I immediately felt guilty. “I need help too,” I said. “I can’t remember anything I like. I only remember everything you like.”
His lips kicked up in a small smile. “That’s exactly my problem.”
It was my turn to feel indecisive. What was I doing? Before I could talk myself out of my better instincts, I suggested, “We could… we could shop together. You remind me what I like and I’ll do the same for you. That work?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, “Sure. That works.”
We turned our carts so that we could walk side-by-side. It worked well in the freezer department because the aisles were wider, but the rest of the store was more crowded so I took the lead.
“You like peanut butter,” I offered.
“But what kind?” He stared at the shelves. His lips pressed into a frown and I watched his eyes move over the different kinds and sizes of jars with determined concentration.
It was my turn to smile. “You don’t know what brand of peanut butter you like?”
He rubbed his hand along the side of his jaw, his dark scruff scratching his palm. “I know what I like, but that one’s cheaper.” He pointed to the store brand and my smile stayed in place. “Does it taste the same?”
When his eyebrows drew down and he looked at me with the helpless expression of a lost little boy I couldn’t help but laugh. I shook my head slowly and said, “No, it doesn’t. Don’t be cheap with peanut butter.”
“But the kind I like is three dollars more.”
“And so worth it.”
His forehead smoothed out and his lips twitched again. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Okay, what about jelly?” He put his favorite brand of peanut butter in the cart and moved down a shelf.
“That you can be less picky about. I usually go for the one that’s on sale and has a flavor I like.”
His low chuckle followed him as he grabbed a jar of raspberry preserves. “Are we too old to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?”
“Don’t say that. We both know it’s the breakfast of champions.”
“So the cashier isn’t going to judge me?”
“Just mention the kids you have waiting for you at home.”
The jar fell out of his hands and crashed into the cart. He ignored the jelly and spun toward me. “You don’t do that.”
“Captain Crunch and corndogs are your favorites. Of course, I do that!”
His deep laughter warmed the air between us and I found myself smiling too. “You’re an evil genius, Katherine Claire.”
I ignored the way his teasing burned through me or the nostalgia that tickled my belly when he used my full name. I pushed my cart forward and led us to another aisle.
“Is it your students?” His deep voice chased after me.
I avoided running into another shopper when I turned the corner and processed his words. “My rough week?”
“Yeah, your rough week. Is it your kids this year? Or new management? What’s going on at Hamilton?”
“Mostly the kids,” I explained over my shoulder. “We’re still establishing the pecking order. They’re not ready to admit I’m in charge yet.”