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“Giving up so soon?” I’m such an insufferable prick.
“With you in the driver’s seat? Just about.”
An unfamiliar sinking sensation tugs at my heart. “Ah, soulmate. Don’t be like that. Give me another—”
“Oh. My. Gawd. Fuckable Foster is at the farmers market?”
I cringe at the shrill voice, not needing to turn to recognize the speaker. Grace’s brows shoot for the stars while she mouths the ridiculous nickname. Her lips curve into a saucy grin and I flex to shield myself from the onslaught. But her attention shifts to the rude interruption that’s approaching on our left. I shadow her lazy pivot as if choreographed.
Jasmine Poe descends in a flurry of too much perfume and desperation. She’s a loyal regular at Roosters, but an overall pain in my ass. Her recent mission to perform a hat trick maneuver—also known as sleeping with all three owners—is served with relentless pursuit. Drake almost fell for it once. Ridge and I have steered clear ever since. That hasn’t stalled her efforts in the slightest. If anything, our evasive tactics just provoke her to chase us faster.
“Shit,” I curse.
Grace startles at my abrupt expletive. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t think. Basic survival instincts have me reaching for her hand, threading our fingers in an intimate embrace. “Just follow my lead.”
She gapes at me for a pause that’s pregnant with twins. “Huh?”
But there’s no time for an explanation. Jasmine reaches us in the next frantic beat of my pulse. Her stare immediately drops to where our palms are locked. The spark in her gaze has me taking this charade one step further. I ditch the handholding to cinch an arm around Grace’s waist, tugging until she’s flush against me and staking a more significant claim. She comes willingly, but there’s no disguising the tension in her stance.
The smirk I paste on lacks its usual charm. “Hey, Jasmine. Crazy running into you here of all places.”
Her eyes narrow into sharp points. “I was going to say the same thing. Is this your first trip to the market?”
There’s no point denying the obvious. “It just took the right woman to make me realize what I’ve been missing. And on that note, this is Grace.”
Which reminds me that I don’t know her last name. That’s a mystery to solve later.
My partner in this façade wiggles her fingers in a cutesy wave. “Nice to meet you.”
Jasmine falters for several seconds. “Hold the hell on. Is this a… date? It can’t be. Nope. No, that’s not how you operate. It must be a quick stop before you bang her in a bathroom somewhere. Pump and dump, right?”
Grace glances at me. There’s no hiding the disgust curling her upper lip. “Uh, thanks for that delightful visual.”
That’s my cue if I plan to maintain a sliver of dignity. “We’re shopping. For our dinner. That we’re making. Then we’ll eat it. Together. As a couple.”
Fully formed sentences would’ve been preferable. Instead, my tone is disjointed with that feeble explanation. Guess I’m not earning any awards for being a fast thinker.
But my lame bumbling seems to do the trick.
“You’re in a relationship”—Jasmine’s shrewd focus slides to Grace for a once-over that feels purposefully critical—“withher?”
Between her snide tone and the dismissive emphasis she places on that final word, my composure is frayed to a single strand. My grip tightens to pull Grace impossibly closer.
“I’m a lucky bastard, right? It was love at first sight.”
Jasmine’s eyes bulge while Grace chokes on her exhale, prompting me to continue. I press my nose to her temple and take an audible inhale that ends in a groan.
“Still can’t believe she agreed to be mine,” I croon.
“And I can’t believe you’re trying to convince me that you’ve been domesticated.” There’s a harsh, defensive edge in Jasmine’s retort.
“Why wouldn’t you? Our love is pure devotion and commitment and… tenderness in the flesh.” Someone needs to cut me off. I send a pleading look to Grace.
She blinks, then seems to recognize her role with a jolt. “Oh, yeah. He begged me to give him a chance. I was skeptical, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Just kept giving me more without expecting anything in return. This guy really aims to please. A true giver with a bottomless appetite. He doesn’t leave a single crumb. Isn’t that right, munchie bear?”
A mental image of her spread wide as an all-I-can-eat feast assaults me. My arousal is swift and potent, the blood draining from my brain at a speed that leaves me dizzy. I’m hard for a woman only meant to be my friend.
