Page 13 of Fierce-Colson

“I asked if you’re going to use it too or just make it in your pot still?”

“I’m keeping the pot,” he said. “This is for you.”

“Then can I get this pink one? It’s small. And cheaper than the rest.”

He had to give her credit there. She never really wanted to ask him for much. Or when she did, she tried to make sure it wasn’t too expensive.

He supposed his father had instilled that in her. Robert Ryder was a cheap fuck unless he was spending his money on booze.

The one she was pointing at was on sale for seventy, small enough to be out of the way, but ugly enough to stand out like a sore thumb in his brown and white kitchen.

“Sure,” he said, bending down to pick it up. They walked down a few more aisles in search of the damn coffee for the thing.

“I don’t know what kind to get,” she said, looking at them all.

Like he did?

“That’s a variety pack,” he said. “Plain and some flavors.”

Bella reached for it. “Thanks.”

As they moved down the aisles to leave, he turned again, her following along. She didn’t ask what he was doing. She wouldn’t.

She’d just assume he had to get something.

The minute they turned into the female care product aisle he felt his skin itch in discomfort.

He cleared his throat. “Um. We should probably think about having something like this in the house.”

She turned, her face flushed, her head nodding.

It told him she might be thinking the same things he was.

Immediately, she reached for one package, then turned it over and set it back.

He stood there like an idiot for five minutes while she continued to do it.

“I’ve been researching what I should get,” she whispered.

Oh, thank god.

“You could have said something to me,” he said. “I don’t know this stuff.”

She shrugged. Her normal response.

Then after another five minutes, she found the one she wanted, which looked to have multiple sizes in it. What? Why?

No, no. Don’t ask. She’s been researching. She knows.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked. “Like what’s that stuff called? Those pills for cramps that women take?”

“Motrin?” she asked.

He had that at home. The same with Tylenol.

“There used to be this stuff.” He turned and looked. “Right there. That.”

She picked it up and read the back. “I guess. But my friends take Motrin.”