Wicked Sexy Liar (Wild Seasons #4)(93)

“Why?” I ask, but I’m already handing it over.

Luke puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close before snapping a selfie of us with his lips pressed to my cheek. He looks adorable: content, eyes closed, smiling into the kiss. By contrast, I look confused and mildly disheveled.

Releasing me, he says, “Because I need to program in my new phone number.”

I watch as he goes to my call log and assigns his name to the number. And only then does it occur to me: Luke called me from a new phone number.

“You got a new phone?” I ask.

He’s still typing his name and address and email information into the contact, but spares a glance in my direction. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

Handing my phone back, he says, “Too many distractions with the old one.”

I swallow and feel the weight of what he’s said wash over me. “Oh.”

“I don’t really want that many women to have my number anymore,” he adds quietly. “It’s not really fair to them, because I have a girlfriend now.”

“Oh.” I seem unable to say anything else. Finally, I manage, “That makes sense.”

“And more important, it’s not really fair to you, since I know I wouldn’t want to have to put up with that.” He tilts his head, catching my eye. “Still okay?” he asks.

I’m pretty sure I’ve never been more okay in my life. I take two steps forward to close the distance between us, and kiss him. My hands slide over the flat planes of his stomach, his ribs, the wide expanse of his chest. My fingers ghost over a nipple and his lips curve up into a smile.

“I’m trying to keep this grocery-store-appropriate,” he growls, reminding me of the last time we were in his bed, with the weight of him moving over me, sweaty and intense. “You’re not making it very easy.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, even as I push up onto my toes to get closer.

He bends to meet me halfway, lips moving with mine, familiar and warm, sucking at the bottom and then letting me have a turn sucking his. He gives me the tip of his tongue in tiny licks, through smiling kisses and quiet sounds as his hands move down my back and over my ass, pulling me into him. I want him in my bedroom, walking backward while I push forward to the bed, climbing over him, feeling his sun-kissed, smooth skin sliding over mine, heating with friction. There are too many clothes and too much space between us, and it’s only when someone bumps into us as they reach around for the baby carrots that I remember where we are.

We register this in unison, and Luke takes a step back before clearing his throat.

“So.” I smooth my hair, willing my body to back down and relax. “Groceries.”

“Right. Groceries.” He takes a deep breath to compose himself before his eyes go wide and he points to my cart. “Wow, that is a lot of produce.”

“Lola’s a healthy gal.” With shaky hands, I pick up a carton of strawberries, check the date, and add it to the pile.

We take a few steps and I glance down at Lola’s list. I’m oddly distracted and can’t seem to focus on anything but the fact that Luke is at my side. “Yogurt,” Luke says, grinning as he guides us down the next aisle.

“Right.”

“So what have you done today?” he asks, and I laugh.

“I finished Lola’s site and did some adult thinking.”

Although I’m bending down to read some labels, I can sense that he’s turned fully to face me. “More ‘adult thinking’? I did a little of my own today.”

It feels like my heart has just calmed down after kissing him in the produce section, and it takes off all over again as I quietly explain. “Besides the obvious,” I say, “I was thinking about a new job.”

He tries to play it cool by pretending to join me in reading the nutritional information on a yogurt container. “Really?”

I hum in agreement. “This guy Oliver knows contacted me about doing some work.”

“A site?” he asks, unable to keep up the act, pulling my arm so I turn and look at him. I can feel the tension of the conversation growing between us, the question about what happens when he moves to Berkeley.

“A site, yeah, and designing all of his promotional items. It’s a pretty big offer.”

I watch him swallow as he nods a few times. “Like . . . how big?”

“It would pay me more than I make all year bartending.” Luke goes completely still when he hears this. “So after I tried to call you”—Luke startles at this—“I called and quit Bliss. But I might also have to quit Fred’s. That’s the part that’s holding me back. It’s good, but . . . I don’t know . . .” I flounder, repeating the word again: “Big.”

“Big can be good,” he says.

He tilts his head for us to keep walking, and we move side by side down the aisle. Luke senses my need to change the subject and tells me more about how his sister ran into Lola and they ended up talking about us for a half hour. We decide they’re all a bunch of busybodies but we love them anyway, and have made it halfway around the store before I realize that at some point Luke has abandoned his basket entirely, and his groceries are lined up in the cart right next to mine.

And it’s not even weird.

In the cereal aisle I reach for a box of Rice Krispies while he picks out Corn Flakes, and we move on.