“Twenty bucks. First of every month. And I had to help him stock the bar every morning before school for my meals.” He laughed when her jaw dropped. “But before you get all pissy on my behalf, Big Daddy saved every penny in a bank account that he gave me when I turned eighteen.”
Hunter went back to the melons, while Mackenzie silently held his hand. After a long moment, she gave his free hand a squeeze. “I miss him.”
“I do too.” He picked up one more melon and gave it a squeeze. “Found one.” He handed it to her. “And it feels like a perfect ten to me.” He lowered his voice. “And I’m an expert when it comes to melons.”
She knew he was changing the subject, but she allowed it, even giving him an eye roll over his lame joke while placing the fruit in thecanvas bag on her shoulder. He’d offered to carry the bag when they’d entered the store, but she’d argued that if she was going to learn to shop on her own, she needed to do iton her own.
“I need some peaches for breakfast.”
He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “If you thought I was good with melons, you should know I’m even better with peaches.”
She ignored this and pointed. “Can you pick three from the bin over there?”
And damn if her “over there” wasn’t spot-on with the peach display. In fact, he was confident that if it weren’t so crowded, Mackenzie could have navigated her way around without any trouble.
She just needed to know she was capable. And he made it his top priority to help her realize how strong she really was.
Before they left, he was going to ask the clerk what time the store was the least crowded and schedule their next trip accordingly. Mackenzie’s problem wasn’t her blindness—it was the unpredictable nature of others.
“Normally, you’d have me at peaches. However, I promised a hands-on experience,” he said, sliding the bag off her shoulder, sure to get his hand on some of that silky skin of hers in the process. “And, Trouble, I always come through on my promises.”
“Rule number three. No touching,” she said, but he noticed she didn’t back away.
“I guess that means I can’t inspect your peach.” He gave a disappointed sigh. “But rules are rules, so I’ll wait here with the bag whileyouinspect the peaches.”
Mackenzie seemed to curl in on herself, holding tightly to Muttley’s harness. When he got to her soft expression, Hunter knew he was fucked. It wasn’t the adorable way she worried her lower lip that got to him or even the raw vulnerability he saw swimming deep down in those green pools.
Nope, what drew him in, like a moth to the flame, was the warm smile she gave when she reached her hand out in search of his and said, “Where are the peaches?”
Hunter’s chest softened, which was the exact opposite of what happened south of his belt buckle, when she found his hand and twined their fingers together. “What happened to rule number three?”
That smile of hers grew. “What’s a little hand-holding when you already sniffed my melons?” she asked. “Plus, the aisles here are narrow, and it sounds crowded.”
“Or you just wanted to hold my hand.” And before she could argue, he said, “Peaches are the third row back on your left.”
He indicated the initial direction but let Mackenzie take the lead, making a temporary truce with Muttley as he herded her toward the middle of the aisle and away from the carts and other objects. The mutt gave anything that held potential danger the same stern look that he gave Hunter.
Without incident, they approached the display. Hunter placed her hands on the first grouping, slowly moving it over the fruit. “These are white peaches. And next to them”—he gently moved her hand—“are yellow peaches.”
“I like white peaches.” She picked one of each variety and held them, thoroughly inspecting each. Her brow crinkled in concentration. With a huff, she set them back down. “They feel the same.”
Hunter was starting to understand how complicated small things could become, and that pissed him off. She had enough to worry about. Picking the wrong peach shouldn’t be one of them. Hunter moved behind her and picked up a peach. “If you want to make sure you get a white one, then let me introduce you to the donut peach. It’s flat and round.”
He placed one in her hand, noticing that, while she was exploring the fruit with her fingers, her body was ever so slowly pressing back into his.
She brought the peach to her nose. “It smells sweet,” she breathed, her lashes lifting toward him and—holy Christ.
Sweet didn’t even cut it. In fact, a whole lot of words rushed to mind, andsweetwasn’t one of them. Because she was looking at him like she was ripe for another kiss. And damn if he didn’t want to be the guy to give it to her.
But he’d promised no more kissing. And no matter how tempting those lips looked, he was determined to follow through on his promises. Then again, she’d also said no touching, and her backside was touching a whole lot of his front side.
“Are you changing the rules on me, Trouble?” he whispered.
“I’m not sure,” she whispered back.
The only thing Hunter was sure about was that he wasn’t going to blow this. “Then until you are, why don’t we agree on a fun trip to the store followed by a friendly supper?”
“With vanilla ice cream and white peaches for dessert,” she said with a smile. “Arthur always gets the yellow ones because they’re cheaper.”
