Page 68 of Arranged Devotion
“Would you stop that?”
“Sorry, love, are you more of a pear girl?” His eyes roam my body. “Yes, I’d say that’s the right shape.”
“You’re gross.”
He lifts an orange and slowly strokes it. “Gross? Are you sure?”
“Stop it!”
An old woman’s jaw is hanging open.
I swear to god, this man looks like a sexual god, and all he’s doing is casually stroking fruit.
Liam snickers and puts the orange back as I hurry away. He stays close, fingers brushing over packages as we go. My heart’s racing and my skin’s flushed, and I’m starting to feel like those shocked and horny housewives back in produce. What the hell is wrong with me?
And is he really doing this on purpose now?
“How do these look?” Liam lifts a package of fancy linguine, gripping it with both hands. “Bronze cut. Nice and big.” His brows lift. “You like this size, don’t you?”
“Stop. Now. Please.”
“Don’t pretend like you’re more of a spaghetti girl.” He bends closer, voice dropping. “You like it thick.”
“Liam!”
He drops the linguine in the cart. “Thick and long.” He strokes his hands up the package nice and slow. Which obviously makes me think about him strokinghispackage…
“Please let me shop in peace.”
“Whatever you want, love, and I really mean that. Anything you want.”
A stock girl refilling the shelves nearby chokes, her cheeks bright red, and has to scurry off. I catch her muttering to herself,oh my god that’s the hottest man I’ve ever seen…before she turns the corner.
I’m mortified. This is straight up hell. I do my best to hurry but now Liam knows what he’s doing and he’s having fun. Everything turns into sexual innuendo, to the point that I want to scream.
More than one woman looks like she’s going to have a heart attack.
Several men leer openly and I’m pretty sure one raises his phone and snaps a photo of Liam growling like a bear as he paws at a chicken breast.
By the time I’m bagged and paid, Liam’s cackling with delight. He shoots a wink at the cashier girl and she practically melts under his attention.
My cheeks are burning. I grab his arm tightly, fingers digging into his ropey muscle. “Enough, please,or did you forget that you’re married?”
“Regan, love, are you jealous?”
“Not even remotely. More like embarrassed.”
“My god, you’re jealous. You’re burning with it right now.”
“Go to hell. Seriously, what was that back there? Do you enjoy making me feel like an idiot?”
“I enjoy flirting with you, that’s for sure.”
I scoff and shove his shoulder. “That was flirting? You’re terrible.”
“I’m fantastic. Pretty sure that old lady near the peaches had an orgasm.”
“Don’t be gross.”
