She raised her eyebrows up and down with a smirk. “You didn’t come at all, though I was willing to let you.”
He took a step closer to her. “Yeah, I think I need to do something about that sooner rather than later.”
“Lotion’s in the bathroom.”
“Funny. But don’t quit your day job.”
“Hey, I offered. I only offer once.” She wanted to stay angry with him, but the way he was looking at her, his eyes smoldering, she knew she was in danger of rolling over. Literally. Let him take her from behind…Dang, she was behind on orgasms if she was getting riled up this easily. It felt like a backlog of sexual frustration. “Maybe I should just go to the store with you.”
He snorted. “So we can fight in the condiments aisle? We’ve already been spotted. Let’s not make it worse.”
“What makes you think we’re going to fight at the store?” she retorted, just to be contrary.
“Because you’re contrary.”
Damn it.
“Fine. Never mind. Go to the store alone.” She turned and went for her purse to fish out the keys. When had they gotten so damn suspicious of each other? She didn’t like it. “Can you get me some wine, too? A nice Malbec.”
“I remember what you drink,” he said testily.
Jolene rolled her eyes and slapped the keys into his outstretched hand. Chance grabbed her hand so unexpectedly that she sucked in a breath and froze. He looked…fierce.
“We’re not finished, Jolene. Just a fair warning.”
“Are you threatening me?” she asked, despising how breathless and excited her voice sounded. She wanted to melt without hesitation. She wanted to roll around on the bed with him for an hour or two, laze by the pond, and laugh with him. The way they used to. Her body ached and yearned, and hell, so did her heart. But she clung to outrage, since it was all she had to prevent herself from getting hurt again.
“Of course not.” His thumb stroked the inside of her palm. “I’m making you a promise.”
“Save your breath for songwriting,” she told him, striving for breezy and nonchalant. “It’s the only thing we’re good at.” With that, she retreated to the bathroom. She was done with him and the conversation and her own stupid traitorous body.
They slammed the doors simultaneously. It might have been the first time in months that they’d been in sync.
—
Chance was putting altogether too much liquor into his buggy at the store. Did he really think he was going to drink two bottles of Jack in two weeks? He frowned. Maybe he really needed four. He put two more in the cart. Two weeks was a long time, and he had blue balls.
The bottles mocked him, so he put three of them back on the shelf. The last thing he needed was to get stinkin’ drunk and embarrass himself in front of Jolene. Which he would if he threw back this much whiskey. He’d have to keep his wits about him to come out of the trip alive, with his head intact on his shoulders, and that required sobriety.
“Hey, aren’t you Jolene Hart’s boyfriend?”
“What?” Chance lifted his head from the cart and glanced to his right. There was a woman in her fifties, gripping her own shopping cart with white knuckles. Her eyes were wide. She had tortilla chips, salsa, and a giant jug of sweet tea in her cart. There was a gossip magazine in her hand.
“You’re Chance Rivers. I know you are. Don’t even deny it. Is Jolene with you?” She darted her gaze around frantically before prying open her jumbo-size purse. “I need my phone. Can I get my picture made with y’all? Please? I promise I won’t post it anywhere.”
“Jolene isn’t here, ma’am, though I’m sure if she were, she’d be happy to take a picture with you.”
“Really?” Her face fell. “She’s not here?”
“No.”
“I heard y’all are back together, but I hope you’ll be more careful this time. You can’t be letting young women cuddle up on you like that or people will talk. No woman wants to read that nonsense about her man.”
Chance added one of the bottles of whiskey back to his cart. “It’s a fine line to walk, ma’am, but thank you for your concern for Jolene.” Everyone was always worried about Jolene. Who the hell worried about his feelings?
She gave him a funny look, like she thought he wasn’t being sincere. “Just because a woman is famous doesn’t mean she doesn’t have the same fears as us regular folks.”
For some reason, that took Chance aback. Jolene couldn’t have actually been jealous or nervous over that idiotic picture. That wasn’t what the fight was about. It had been about image, public perception. Nothing personal between them. Right? Suddenly he wasn’t sure.