Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae #1)(64)

The light fell across her delicate features, highlighting her bizarre ethereal quality. She was lovely, extremely pleasing to behold. Everything about her worked in perfect harmony. She caught the eye and held it in such a way that he felt trapped and weightless. Jailed, but not sure if he was panicked or elated by that fact.

“Hello?” she said.

“Yeah, sure.”

He met up with her in the most useless area in the store. He told her as much.

“What are you, five? Vegetables are good for you.”

“Vitamins are easier to get down.”

She smirked and dropped a bag of apples into the cart. “You liked that portabella.”

“Meh.”

She chuckled softly. “Right, okay. Do you want to divide and conquer, or take it by aisles together?”

“I hate it here and I don’t know where anything is.”

A crease formed between her eyebrows. She nodded. “Uh-huh. Yes. I can see you missed my question.”

“Together,” he growled in mock irritation.

“Don’t start with the attitude. It’ll just piss me off.”

“Oh well, that’ll change my whole tune, surely.”

She shook her head, another smile lighting up her face.

He cleared his throat, his behavior the night before eating at him. “Sorry about last night. I know it seemed like I was pissed, but I wasn’t. Not really. Andy was right—it happens to a lot of people. I was just…you know…worried. It’s my duty to look after you, and I did a shit job. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”

“It’s fine. And thanks. For helping, I mean. You were justified in the way you acted and the things you said. I completely lost my head. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not talk about it anymore.”

Understandable, especially for a guy who thought talking things out was the equivalent of a medieval torture device. He’d remember to send Macy her way, though. Women more readily talked to other women. At least, that was what Andy had said.

It was bad when Andy became your expert in dealing with women.

“Also, thanks. You know, for the phone and computer.”

Devon gritted his teeth. He hadn’t wanted to advertise that he’d been behind those gifts. It was essential to the pack that each of them had a phone, and if he wanted, he was sure he could submit an expense report for reimbursement. But the computer…

In the simplest terms, he was paying it forward. He knew what it was to feel lost, destitute. When he’d answered the summons, he hadn’t had a dime, a place to stay, anything. If not for Roger and the pack, he would still have nothing. Sure, he’d worked his ass off to earn everything he had, but he couldn’t deny he’d been given a boost. So far, no one had done that for Charity. The least Devon could do was give her the right tools to help her achieve success. She was too headstrong and proud to ask for them, so he’d tried to ensure she wouldn’t have to.

He rolled his shoulders as Charity crossed something off her shopping list. She’d made one. On paper. Something that had oddly charmed him. “Don’t mention it,” he growled, hoping she caught on. Literally, don’t mention it again.

“Should I get more portabellas?” she asked, turning to face him, closer than he’d realized. He caught a whiff of her scent, clean and feminine and not entirely human. Sweet and spicy.

The change of conversation and her sudden proximity froze him up. He started to salivate and stared into her red-brown eyes, sparkling with intelligence.

“What the hell is wrong with you today?” she demanded. “Has Yasmine got your head lost in the clouds or something?”

He grinned while trying to claw his way out of his weird stupor.

“Jealous?” he teased.

“Yeah, right. What’ve you got that a vibrator can’t do better?”

He froze up for the second time, surprised and shocked and holy shit she’d just gotten him hard. That wasn’t good.

“Ha!” She grinned at him. “Embarrassed you! Point to me.”

He blinked a couple of times, and couldn’t help the goofy grin as he looked into her beguiling gaze. An unexpected burst of butterflies filled his stomach.

Still a little flabbergasted, he followed her around the stands of produce, only coming out of his fog when he realized he was shopping with a poor kid who was used to a minimal budget.

“Whoa, wait a minute.” He snatched the bag of carrots out of the air. “We’re not here to get the cheapest stuff. I want good food. I want organic or whatever. If it costs more, fine.”

She surveyed her list. “But…” She cocked her hip. “You don’t have much in the house, and we’re probably going to have to feed your pack mates.”

“So?”

“So, it’s going to cost a ton to get all this stuff if I don’t bargain-hunt.”

“No bargains. I want to taste the food.”

“You’ll taste it either—”

“No bargains,” he interrupted, holding up his hand to forestall future arguments. “I’m not telling you what to cook, so don’t you tell me what to buy.”

Tossing up her hands, she said, “Fine, but don’t blame me if you go bankrupt.”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m definitely going to blame you.”