I raise an eyebrow at him. “I thought you only drank soda or beer.”
He shrugs. “My mom sometimes had OJ in the house. It wasn’t often.”
Chad rings up our order, and I tap my phone to pay.
When we get our drinks, I watch Dax take his first sip, and there’s a glint of surprise in his eyes.
He lowers the straw and nods. “Not bad.”
“Does it make your former OJ feel fake?”
“Yeah. Come to think of it, what Mom bought probably wasn’t real orange juice. It didn’t have a real orangey smell. This tastes thicker.”
I take a sip of mine and smile. “Well, I’m glad you like it.”
“How’s yours?”
“Scrumptious as always.”
Daxgrins. “Sounds like a winner.”
We wander out of the store and hit the pavement. I clutch his hand and give it a gentle swing. “What do you want to do today?”
“Anything, as long as I get to spend time with you.”
I lift onto my toes and nuzzle my nose against his. “Aww, so sappy.”
He looks away and chuckles. “Sorry, it’s just how I feel.”
“I’m glad the tux fitting didn’t scare you off.”
“Ralph was a bit much,” Dax replies. “But LJ was nothing. I deal with a lot worse at home. I’m just sorry you have to deal with him.”
“He was about to explode when you told him not to call me sweetheart.”
“Hearing him say it makes me sick that I ever used it. No wonder you can’t stand it.”
I chew my fingernail, smirking. “Sassy is a much cuter nickname.”
“Well, today hasn’t turned me off.” He holds up his thumb and index finger an inch apart. “The smoothie store was cutting it close, though.”
Foolishly giddy, I lead him further along the path. “Well, let me see how far I can push you. There’s a department store ahead.”
“Yikes. Are you trying to make me run?”
I tug harder on his arm. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“Is shopping a hobby for you, or something?”
“Hey, you taught me how to start a motorcycle. I’ll teach you how to navigate a department store.”
He laughs, moving his pace in line with mine. “Okay, Sassy. Teach me your ways.”
When we enter the department store, Dax’s grunt cuts through the pop music playing from the overhead speakers. His eyes dart around the aisles, trying to spot the rear of the store.
“This place is too big,” he mutters.
“At least it’s not covered in cobwebs like the store you took me to.”
