“I love you, Jamie,” she told me.
Motherfucker. I lunged at her and buried myself to the hilt.
I made love to her. Love. That’s right. In confirmation, I grunted.
Chapter Twelve
Rey
Jamie was at least a head taller than my five foot nine, so that put him at about six foot four. When he walked, he marched with long strides. Of course, with my hand in his, I jogged. Doors slid open, and cold air swept my skin. Goose bumps rose over my bare shoulders. The market was cold. Abruptly, Jamie stopped, and I ran into his bicep.
Soft lips pressed my forehead. “Got a list or somethin’?”
I nodded. “The house made a list for me.” I reached into my backpack and passed him the home phone. “Command: Grocery list,” I spoke into the odd appliance I called a home phone.
For a while, Jamie was quiet, and then he said, “This isn’t a grocery list. It’s a fucking book.”
“What’s it about?” I asked, messing with him. It’d been a month since we’d come clean to each other. The weight of our secrets had suffocated us for the first few days of our mating, but not anymore. It could’ve been great from the start, if only we hadn’t hidden from each other. Mating was such a nice bond, much better than pairing. It made me feel owned and loved and, most importantly, safe. Jamie loved me. I didn’t need words to tell me that when I had his actions. Jamie took care of me.
“The book is about this Alpha Beast, who went to the store and ended up in one of his own jails.” He huffed and puffed at the list, then strode away. I followed, my hand in his. “The veggies are on the right,” he said. He placed my hands on something soft. Tomatoes. “Pick those. I got…eggplant. I didn’t know eggs grew out of the ground around here.”
“They don’t.”
“So it must look like an egg, then.”
I pictured him searching for the vegetable. “Not really. Eggplant is big, smooth, and purple. You can’t miss it.”
“So it looks like a tortured dick. Anyway, what’s it for?” he asked.
“I was gonna make you moussaka.”
“Say that again.”
“It’s Greek.”
“I don’t eat dick plants. Forget it. Make me a steak. I’ll get potatoes.”
“No, wait. Moussaka is delicious, and I have a great recipe from Grans. It has ground beef in it.”
“No eggplant.”
“I want you to try it. It comes in layers, and eggplant is one of them.”
“No problem. Layer the thing with potatoes. No eggplant. Wait a minute. Light salad dressing? I don’t think so.”
“Baked chips,” I said, firmly. “And pads with wings.” I waited for his horrified response. His boots stomped, and a minute later, a bag—potatoes, likely—hit the bottom of the cart. “Done. Let’s get pads.”
We moved around.
“You don’t mind getting pads?” I asked.
“Nope.”
Awww.
“You can’t be bleeding all over the furniture. I got you covered, baby.” We stopped. “Hold on, they got a whole aisle for this shit, and fifty of them got wings. Your peach gonna fly.” Jamie amused himself.
“Hi, there,” a woman said. “Can I help you?”
“Yes,” I said. “Could you get me Jazzies number three with wings?”
“Over here. Which package?”
“Thirty-six pack.”
“I’m sorry, we’re all out. Here are the smaller ones, or we have a large pack in another brand.” I was sure she pointed them out. Jamie took my hands and put packaged pads in them. “What’s the difference between these two?” I asked.
Silence resumed.
Jamie tapped his foot. “Today?”
“Um, um…”
If you didn’t know Jamie like I did, you’d be scared of him. The woman was probably terrified. Dressed in leathers, with his wolfy eyes and big teeth, Jamie was a menace. Not to mention he was the Alpha Beast of Beast City. At least he hadn’t “minded” her.
I opened my mouth to say either of the pads would do when Jamie said, “Mind. She asked what’s the difference, and you’re looking at me like I got answers. I don’t have a pussy. You do, and I bet it bleeds. Pads?”
“Um…”
“My peach hears fine, but if you um and hum, she can’t understand. I can’t understand. Fuck it. I got the pads. One of each brand.” Pads flew out of my hands. Boots shuffled away. “The fuck is wrong with…” He sniffed loudly. “Baby, there’s perfume on this thing.”
“Some women like—”