Page 27

Chapter

Twenty-Four

JONAS

Jonas: You have room for Evan and Hadley, too?

Mom: You know I love having a full house!

Mom: Emma is so excited!

Jonas: I’m excited to see her, too.

“The internet made you look easy.” Hadley speaks to a saucepan on the stove top as I come into our apartment. Every available flat surface is littered with mangled vegetables and knives. An open bag of rice spills onto the floor.

“Um, Hads?” I drop my keys and backpack by the door. Probably shouldn’t make any sudden moves in this danger zone. “Do you think it’s going to talk back?”

She blows a breath, stirring her hair. It clings in sweaty wisps around her face. I have a flashback to her the other day, rain-drenched and flushed, and I swallow, trying to banish that image from my brain. It can’t happen again.

She mops the strand of hair away with her hand and brightens. “That would actually be awesome if it spoke. Like in Beauty and the Beast . And maybe the dishes could explain how to follow this recipe.”

Leaning against the counter, she holds up her phone and jabs the pause button on a YouTube video.

I take a step forward to see what she’s watching, and she hands it over.

Someone chops carrots on the screen so fast they blur, and tosses them in a skillet before an impressive flame shoots two feet high on the stovetop.

I shake my head and pause it. “This is pretty difficult. What are you trying to make?”

Her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. “That stir fry you mentioned the other day when we were watching Love Island .”

The characters on the show were having a delicious meal, and I mentioned that it’s one of my favorite things my mom makes. She remembered.

“You tried to cook for me?” My voice comes out a croak, and my heart soars in my chest.

“Yeah, but I don’t really know what I’m doing. The video said it would be easy.” She swallows and motions around the kitchen. “But the internet lies.”

“Hey.” I grab her hand, my thumb rubbing across her knuckles. “You’re Hadley Thompson. You kick ass and take names. There’s nothing you can’t conquer. If you want, we can do it together?”

She stares at the floor. “This is kind of the first meal I’ve ever attempted.”

And she did it for me? Wow.

“We could have cooking lessons. I don’t know a ton, but I’d be happy to teach you some basics.”

“Jonas, you’d do that for me?” Her eyes shine with happiness, and I’m as powerful as Superman. I want to make her look like that all the time.

“Of course I would.” My voice is gruff, and I can’t stare at her or else I’ll kiss her again.

And then we’ll get distracted and probably set the apartment on fire.

I survey the kitchen and the massacre of vegetables that happened here.

I clear my throat. “But I think we should probably clean up and start over. Are you game?”

“I am if you are.”

Nothing was salvageable except a handful of rice that hadn’t been on the floor.

After dumping it all, we take Hadley’s Range Rover to Fresh Thyme.

I usually shop at Walmart or Aldi—this is the swankiest grocery store in the area.

And it’s only “Lafayette fancy.” Nothing like what would be available in bigger cities.

The all-organic produce is displayed in rainbow rows, tempting and beautiful. The bins of overflowing fruit and veggies remind me of Saturday mornings spent perusing a farmers’ market—not like that’s something I do. But the store has done a good job of channeling that vibe if even I’m feeling it.

Hadley grabs a cart and wanders into the produce section, then turns to me, looking lost. She trails her fingers over a display of deep red tomatoes. A harried woman brushes past her, glaring.

“Okay, first lesson.” I grab her hand and bring her fingers to my lips, giving them a quick kiss. I shouldn’t, but I can’t resist her soft skin. “Don’t touch stuff you aren’t going to buy. You wash it when you get home, yeah, but the other people will appreciate it.”

“Oh.” She lets me keep hold of her hand as her cheeks turn pink. “I can do that.”

“Second lesson.” I glance around us. “We’re going for a simple stir fry. You can toss in anything you want. My mom usually does mushrooms, bell peppers, and squash. How do you feel about that?”

Hadley glances left, then right, like the people milling around us are going to judge her. “I’m not sure I know how to pick a squash out of a lineup.”

I smile, hoping to reassure. Wrapping my arm around her, I bring her and the cart in front of a display. “There’s all different kinds. Zucchini and this yellow one are good.”

I hold it up to demonstrate, and she shrugs and puts it in a produce bag. “Okay.”

“You a fan of mushrooms?” I ask, and she nods.

Dodging other patrons, we make our way around the bins of vegetables, until we reach the stacks of onions. She scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “No onions. I hate them.”

“So does my sister. We can adapt.”

Some of the tension goes out of her posture at that, and she takes a deep breath. “Thanks for your help. Is it okay if I get some other groceries while we’re here?”

I nod, following her around as she loads the cart with organic apples, cherries, and pre-cut cantaloupe, watermelon, and pineapple.

I do a quick scan of prices. “It would be cheaper to buy the actual fruit and cut it ourselves at home.”

She shrugs. “But why, when I can just buy it?”

I heft a watermelon and rap my knuckles on it, listening for a good hollow sound. She raises a brow at me like I’ve lost it, but I grin. “We can do it together. It will be fun.”

“Why are you knocking on it?”

“That’s how you check to see if it’s ripe.”

“He’s right, you know.” A tall, bald man adjusts his glasses and shrugs at Hadley. “It’s a thing.”

As the stranger walks away to find the perfect cucumber, Hadley giggles. “This is the most educational trip to the store I’ve ever had.”

After selecting a cantaloupe and a pineapple, we wander back to the deli. Hadley buys some lunch meat from the counter, along with some expensive wedges of cheese.

“What else do we need for stir fry?” she asks, pushing the cart towards the non-perishables.

“Another bag of rice, and some ingredients for our sauce.” I shove my hands in my pockets as she goes up and down each aisle, tossing crackers, mac and cheese, and noodles in with our produce.

As we walk past the chips, she stands on her tiptoes to get the last can of Pringles on the top shelf. Hadley’s a tall girl, but she can’t reach.

“Allow me.” Stepping close, my fingers close around the container. I can smell her sweet perfume. My brain short-circuits and our rain-soaked kiss flashes before my eyes. What would have happened if Caleb hadn’t interrupted?

As she turns to face me, her eyes widen, and her throat tightens in a swallow. “Thanks.”

Her voice is husky, like how she sounds when she first wakes in the morning. I want to run my fingers through her hair. I want to cup her jaw and tilt her lips to mine. I want to lose myself in her.

“Um.” My brain forgets how to form words.

Hadley gazes at me, then grabs a fistful of my shirt. Her mouth is a hair's breadth away when we’re jostled from behind. I bump into her, almost losing my balance, and have to latch onto the shelf to keep from falling or taking her with me.

“Sorry!” A woman calls over her shoulder, jogging down the aisle after a laughing toddler. He drops fruit snacks like a trail of breadcrumbs, and in a few steps, his mom catches him and scoops him into her arms.

“It’s okay,” I tell the woman, steadying Hadley, and take a step back. “Sorry about that.”

I hand her the chips, never glancing away, and she puts them in the cart.

Her pulse visibly throbs at the base of her neck like a fluttering hummingbird, and at least I’m not the only one who was affected by that.

But what’s gotten into me? We agreed to a secret summer fling—public grocery store make-outs are definitely off-limits.

I’ve got to get a handle on myself and my impulses.

Pull it together, Jonas.

Her cheeks are pink, the same color as the cute little off-the-shoulder shirt she’s wearing. But she clears her throat, and says, “Moving on. What’s next?”

“Protein and sauce. I think that’s the next aisle over.”

“Sounds good.”

When we get to the condiments, she taps her finger on her chin, surveying our options. “Teriyaki? Or sweet and sour?”

“I don’t know what you’d call it, but my mom makes her own sauce.” I hold up soy sauce and sriracha. “Wanna try it? We need to find garlic and maybe some honey or olive oil.”

“Sure. What do you recommend for protein?”

“You like chicken, right?” She nods, and I lean in to whisper. “I’m gonna tell you a secret. We could buy fresh or… we could buy the easy frozen stuff. It tastes just as good.”

She looks at me, eyes twinkling, and my belly swoops. “Jonas, you’re such a rebel.”

“Shh, don’t tell and ruin my good guy reputation.”

“I would never betray you like that.” With a wink, she spins on her sandal and saunters to the frozen food section. I follow with the cart.

“Brrr.” Hadley stops in front of the frozen chicken and shivers as I open the door and toss a bag into the cart. “I hate how cold these aisles are.”

“Come’ere.” I can’t resist the chance to wrap her in my arms. Is it unnecessary? Absolutely. But I must have left my common sense at home. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“My hero.” She gazes at me again, and my heart beats faster. I know she’s teasing, but the depths in her eyes draw me in. I want her words to be true. I want to be the most important person in her life.

Without thinking, I bend my mouth to hers and kiss her. She tastes like lemonade, sweet and tart. I want to drink her up, consume every last drop. She responds by fisting my shirt in her hands and pulling me closer.

“Daddy! True love’s kiss!”

Oh god. I put space between us and peer down to see a rapt little girl, brown eyes shining, and her glaring dad standing behind her. Hadley blushes as the girl smiles.

“You look like Rapunzel and Flynn Rider!”

The dad claps a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and turns her away. “Geeze. Keep it PG, folks.”

Hadley giggles as they exit the aisle and buries her head in my chest. “Whoops. I hope we didn’t corrupt her.”

“She seemed okay.” I clear my throat. “I think of you more as Cinderella, but Rapunzel is cool, too.”

She twirls a strand of her hair. “You and your princess obsession. I’m honored.

I can’t help but smile. “Do you have a favorite?”

“Disney princess?” she asks, staring around at the store like this isn’t a normal thing to discuss.

“Yeah. Because I love Aladdin. He’s the best prince.”

She raises a tantalizing brow. “Are you asking me to cosplay Jasmine? Couples costume for the hockey Halloween party next year?”

Not gonna lie, that visual stops me in my tracks. “Um.”

But she shakes her head. “Probably not smart. Since we won’t be together by then.”

Yeah. That reminder cools my libido more than the frozen foods. It must do the same for her because she shivers again.

“Let’s get you somewhere warmer.”