Page 14

CHAPTER

SIX

REECE

B ree dropped her head as she caught me staring at her, but hell if I could help it.

I’d grown up with a great mom—the best mom, and Bree reminded me of my own—no wait, that was fucking sick.

She in no way reminded me of my mom, just how she was with Benny.

The love, the patience, always putting his needs ahead of her own.

Any kid could do worse than to have someone like that in his corner, but for a kid like Benny, he’d won the mom jackpot.

A woman like Bree shouldn’t have been alone long enough for me to swoop in with this ridiculous arrangement—but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad she was.

Given the brow beating my mom gave me the last time she came to stay, I knew exactly how she’d react.

Mom would adore her. Hell, I already did, and that was becoming a problem because if I’d known a fake relationship could be this much fun, I might’ve signed up for one years ago.

Of course, that would’ve meant not ending up with Bree in my bed and…

Jesus . I rubbed a hand down my face. I couldn’t let my brain go there, not now.

The last thing I needed was to walk around Aldi sporting a damn tent in my jeans.

I’d never stepped foot in an Aldi before, mostly because on any given day, I’d rather shove burning-hot fire pokers in my eyes than grocery shop.

My food got delivered—a time and sanity saver.

But with Miss Claudia and Benny to entertain me, and Bree casually tailoring her meal plan around what I liked? I could almost call this outing… fun .

“Do you eat meatloaf?” she asked me.

I jerked my head back but let a smile spread over my face because I liked being consulted and meatloaf . “Sunday dinner,” I replied.

“Sunday dinner?” she asked.

Nodding, I explained, “My mom made us big dinners on Sundays. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, creamed spinach, a salad, and homemade bread—that was my favorite. But she made pot roast, Salisbury steak, IKEA Swedish meatballs… Those all-day kinds of meals.”

“That sounds yummy,” Miss Claudia said and she wasn’t wrong.

“We ate quicker, healthier meals during the week. Saturday was take-out night. Pizza, usually, but it could be anything we were in the mood for. Even when I got to be a teenager, she and I always made time for Sunday dinner.” Still now, with me living in Charleston, we FaceTimed during our respective meals so we could still have Sunday dinner together.

My gut clenched and my step faltered. For thirty-one years—my whole fucking life—she’d never missed one, and I’d never skipped out.

How was I expected to—I wasn’t ready. My mother was actively dying and there wasn’t enough money in the world to save her.

Just then, I felt a hand touch my shoulder.

“Hey,” Bree whispered. “You okay?” My gaze dropped to her hand and those delicate fingers, then around to the rest of the aisle.

Miss Claudia had Benny and the cart, turning out to head to another aisle, leaving us completely alone.

Without thinking, I grabbed a handful of Bree’s hair at the nape of her neck, tugging her to me, slamming my mouth to hers.

She gripped my shirt at the waist while I walked her backward to the shelf.

She moaned, digging her fingers deeper into my sides.

Maybe she liked it or maybe she wanted me to let her up for air, but I couldn’t stop kissing her.

She helped me to not think about that shit and I needed to not think about it.

Hell, if I thought I’d get away with it, I’d yank down her sweats, bend her forward, and fuck her until her legs gave out, right here in the store because nothing bad happened when I fucked Bree.

Finally, her moan turned to a whimper and I ripped my mouth away, breathing hard and my heart pounding like a jackhammer.

I thought she’d slap me or demand answers—Lord knew I deserved it—but instead, she lifted up on her tiptoes to hug me, pressing a kiss to my cheek, then she took my hand and started walking in the direction of Miss Claudia and Benny.

Humiliation slammed into me. What the fuck had I just done? As we walked, she casually turned her head up to look at me, no judgement or derision on her beautiful face. Not one bit. Instead, she said, “How about BBQ ribs, corn on the cob, a vinegar slaw and my cheesy, jalapeno cornbread instead?”

The woman had no idea what caused my reaction, yet she knew exactly what to say, to do.

“That—” I cleared my throat. “That’d be great.”

It took me a beat to shake off my brain fog, but once I did, I slipped back into grocery-store autopilot.

Bree started loading the cart with egg noodles, peas, carrots, tuna—nothing unexpected.

Then she paused in front of the baking aisle, her hand hovering over a box of breadcrumbs, and that’s when my Spidey senses tingled.

“What’re you making?” I asked.

“Tuna noodle casserole.”

“You eat that shit?”

“It’s one of Benny’s favorites and it’s not shit. ”

“Swear to God, woman, if you touch a can of creamed soup, I’ll spank your ass and make you beg for more.”

Her cheeks pinked. God, I couldn’t wait to get her naked tonight. “I don’t use canned soup, though to condemn creamed soup is both ableist and wealth-ist.”

“Wealth-ist isn’t a word.”

“It is now. Shakespeare coined something like nine thousand new words. If he can, then so can I.”

“Fair enough. Why is it ableist?”

“Because not everybody can use a whisk to make a cream sauce. For some people, opening a can is as much as they can handle.”

“ Shit —I never thought about that.”

“You want a little perspective in your life, come down to Benny’s school with me one time.”

“I’ve got to go, anyway.”

She wrinkled her brows. “Why do you have to go?”

“Don’t they need a copy of my license and shit?”

“Why would they need your license?”

“To pick him up.”

Sighing a fucking cute, indulgent sigh, she placed her hand on my arm. “Reece, there’s no reason for you to pick him up.”

“Are you my girlfriend?”

She lowered her voice, leaning toward me. “ Fake girlfriend.”

“Are you my girlfriend?” I pushed because fake or not, what people saw was me taking care of the woman and her boy.

“Fine, yes… I’m your girlfriend,” she relented.

“Then the school needs to know me.”

And that was the end of our privacy. It started with the man wearing a Copperheads jersey peeking around the corner. When I spied him, he pulled back, but then worked up the balls to approach .

“Baker Reece?” he said. “What’re you doing in Aldi?”

“Same thing as you, I suspect. Shopping.”

He looked from me to Bree, eyes stopping on her tits a bit too long for my liking and said, “I swear I’ve seen you at”—if he said Slits, I’d rip his larynx out so he couldn’t ever talk again— “the arena,” he fortunately said.

Bree smiled. “I work there.”

“You his assistant?” he asked.

“The fuck kind of question is that?” I barked, taking a step forward. Bree gripped my shirt, pulling me back to her side.

“Sorry,” the dude said, holding his hands up in front of him. A move that wouldn’t provide him a lick of protection if I decided to take a go at him. “She works at the arena. I just figured…”

“It’s fine,” she said. “We met at the arena, but we’re dating now. I know, someone like him should be with an actress or a pop star.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you. You’re gorgeous, if you don’t mind me saying?—”

“I do .” I cut him off, causing Bree to slap my chest.

“Stop,” she ordered.

“It’s just famous people usually date other famous people.

” He had a point. But from what I’d seen over the years, famous people dating famous people rarely ended well for one or both of the parties involved.

Though in my experience, getting into a real relationship with anyone, celebrity or not, didn’t end well.

No, in my opinion, everyone should try this fake relationship with a lot of fucking arrangement.

We both got what we needed. There was no downside.

“Sometimes you meet the one on a red carpet and sometimes you meet her in a locker room.” As soon as the words left my lips, I realized my mistake.

I meant to say the right one. The one implied a lifetime commitment, marriage…

kids, if you were into that. Maybe a dog.

Vacations together. Family ev ents. But if she noticed my slip, she let it go, not even blinking an eye.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it,” the man said.

“Would you like a picture with him?” Bree asked.

He looked between Bree and me, then said, “Better not,” and then turned, scurrying away like a damn rat.

Once he rounded the corner, Bree cocked her hip, arms folded over her chest, and glared at me. “You scared him,” she said, stating the obvious.

“He insulted you.”

“I wasn’t insulted.”

“Okay, well, I was .”

“You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, Reece.”

“Why would I want to catch flies at all? You get a bug zapper and never have to deal with the problem again.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s just finish.”

We found Miss Claudia and Benny. Even though he couldn’t answer back, she talked to him like any grandmotherly type would to a kid, having a whole one-sided conversation.

Thankfully, there weren’t too many customers in the store today, but for Bree’s sake, I made nice with the ones who approached. I ordered Bree and Claudia into the truck while I loaded the bags into the bed.

We had enough time to get back to the apartment to put Bree’s and Miss Claudia’s groceries away.

While I was bent over pulling a rack of ribs from the bag, Benny handed me a book.

He wanted me to read to him? Shock didn’t begin to cover what I felt, but we’d spent several hours together, so I supposed he felt comfortable enough with me now.

I held his hand, leading him over to the sofa.

The one I’d eaten out his mother on. Shit —I was going to hell.