“You wouldn’t be a good match,” she continued when she saw what was likely the anger on my face.
The basket I’d grabbed on the way into the store, one of the small ones that you held in the crook of your arm, felt like a lead weight around my arm.
“And he got another girl pregnant years ago, and just decided to kill that girl so he didn’t have to deal with the kid.”
I reached forward and dropped the lube into my basket.
Each time she said something, I dropped another thing in it.
“The kid’s dying, and he just now saw her yesterday.”
I picked up the ribbed condoms and put them in the basket, too.
“I saw Ariya and her together a few hours ago. Doing everything by themselves,” she continued. “Tate’s a piece of trash.”
By the time she stopped talking because she heard the door at the front open, announcing another customer, I’d filled my basket almost completely full.
I had condoms—four different types. Ribbed, for her pleasure. Ultra thin. Lubed. And glow in the dark.
I also had at least eight different types of lube, massage gel, and what looked to be an anal douche…which I was fairly sure I’d never be using.
But the look on her face when I added each one to the basket was too perfect, and now she would have to check me out.
Grinning, I made a detour to the cold food section, got two bottles of whipped cream, and then got my bread.
Once I arrived at the checkout, Maria was there ringing up another one of my father’s congregation, Don Williams.
I took the basket and upended it on the conveyor belt, then stared at Don for a few long seconds before saying, “I’m in a serious relationship with Tate Casey, and we have lots of awesome sex. I don’t care that he has a daughter. No, I don’t care that his mother sleeps with married men. No, I don’t care that his father left him, because I will be there for him if he ever needs or wants that support. Also, I’m fairly sure that I won’t be needing these condoms because we like to get messy.”
Don’s eyes widened into what resembled saucers.
“Good to know that, darlin’.”
I bit my lip and looked at the other customer that I’d sensed coming up behind me during my tirade.
And winced.
Had I known that it was him behind me, I definitely wouldn’t have said anything. He didn’t need to know what the town thought of his family, as well as our relationship.
He had bread in his own hand.
How the hell had I not seen him when I’d gone to that aisle? We’d have to literally pass right by each other to get to that particular part of the store.
I blushed.
“I…”
He laughed and pulled me into his chest.
“Don’t worry about it baby,” he said. “But,” his eyes went down to my pile of goodies that Maria was still glaring at. “You can ditch the condoms. You’re right. We won’t be needing them.”
Then he reached forward and took all of the condoms out, setting them on top of the candy that was above the belt.
I had the sudden urge to throw myself at him.
Normally, I might not have done it.
But that was the old Hennessy, the one who cared what her dad thought.
The new Hennessy, the one that was a free spirit now thanks to the man standing next to her, she liked showing her man how much he meant to her.
Which was why I threaded my arms around his neck, pulled him down to my mouth, and fused my lips to his.
The kiss quickly ended up getting out of hand.
One second I was kissing him with just a little bit of tongue, and the next he practically had me leaning over the checkout counter.
“I have the right to refuse service!” Maria cried. “Get out of my store!”
“That’s like a hundred dollars worth of stuff,” came a soft reply. “I’ll get you over here.”
I looked over at Lark and grinned. “Thanks.”
I scooped everything up, holding some of it in my tank top, which caused my belly to become exposed and Maria’s eyes to get even bigger, and dropped it all on Lark’s counter.
She checked everything out, including Tate’s bread, and said the total. Wincing at spending a hundred and twenty bucks on lubrication, I pulled out my card to pay when a crisp one hundred dollar bill, and a slightly folded twenty came over my head.
Lark took the money, put it into the cash register, and handed me my bags.
Tate took those, too.
I waved at Don, flipped Maria off, and walked out with Tate two steps in front of me.
I watched as his back muscles bunched as he transferred the bags to one hand and held out his hand for me to take.
I did, and looked up at him.
“You’re sure you’re not mad?” I whispered uncertainly.
“No, not mad.”
He sounded mad.
I looked up at his jaw, studied his beard as well as the glasses that had magically appeared out of what had to be his pocket.
He was dressed for work in a black ‘Hail Auto Recovery’ t-shirt, stained dark washed blue jeans, and his normal dirty work boots that still had traces of mud on the tread.
His jaw was set, and he was staring straight ahead at his truck.
I was parked right next to it, at the very back of the lot.
The place that we were at meant that no one was around us, and the brick wall at the back of the lot trying to pretty the place up meant we had nobody that could see us when he rounded the corner of his truck.
The moment that we were out of the view of the grocery store, he dropped the bags on the ground, and suddenly I was shoved up against the back retaining wall with two hundred and fifty pounds of man blanketing me.
Then his mouth was on mine, and his hand was in my pants.
I was so surprised by it all that I didn’t fight him at all. They were down around my ankles before I could even so much as protest.
Chapter 22
The question isn’t ‘who is going to let me?’ It’s ‘who is going to stop me?’
-Tate to Hennessy
Tate
“What are you...mmmmmm.”
Hennessy’s surprise was cut off the moment my mouth met hers. One second she was following behind my hasty steps, and the next she had her back against the wall with me pinning her in place.
“Tate,” she breathed when I let her up for air.
“I love you.”
Her eyes went wide at my declaration.
“You…what?”
She sounded so cute and confused that I only smiled at her, waiting for what I said to penetrate that hard outer shell that she protected so fiercely.
“You heard me,” I said.
“You can’t love me!” she cried out, pushing away from me.
I didn’t budge, though. Instead I held steady, keeping her pinned to the wall with my hips and nothing else.
“I can love you if I want to love you,” I informed her drolly. “You can’t make me not love you.”
“You can’t love me!” she repeated again, poking me in the chest.
I grinned at her. “That right?”
She nodded, looking fierce.
“Why?”
She opened her mouth to reply with something haughty, I was sure, but stopped and tilted her head to the side.
“I’m not a nice person when I wake up,” she settled on.
I grunted. “What does that have to do with me loving you?”