Chapter 7

7

I smile at Noah, trying to look innocent.

“Come on,” he says to me, ignoring Britta’s wide-eyed glee. Taking a shopping cart, he heads for the meat department.

“Bye, Britta,” I say, laughing as I hurry after him.

Noah tosses package after package of dead cow into the cart.

“Do I need all that?” I ask.

“At least this much. But fresh is best, so you don’t want it sitting in your fridge for more than a few days.”

My eyes pass over the contents of the cart. It looks like we’re going to be hosting a massive barbecue.

But if this will keep me from vomiting every five minutes…so be it. Even if it’s going to cost me a small fortune. Is that really $11.99 per pound?

My eyes fix on the cucumbers when we leave the meat department and pass through the produce department. They’re stacked up in the cooler case, calling to me like vegetal sirens. Crunchy, cold, full of hydrating water…my stomach growls, remembering a time I could eat them.

We end up in the soup aisle, and Noah begins placing cartons of beef broth in the cart. Three…four…five…

“What’s that for?” I ask reluctantly. “And do I need that many?”

“Drinking. And yes.”

“You think I’m going to drink beef broth?”

“You’ll get tired of water, and this will keep your strength up.”

He’s one of those men who always seems to know what he’s talking about. I admire it, but I find it annoying at the same time.

“Dr. Granger said I need to eat meat.” I frown at the cartons. “I wonder if I can have dairy?”

“Not yet.”

Huffing out a breath, I place my hands on my hips. “How, exactly, are you so confident about all this when you have no idea what’s wrong with me?”

He lifts his brows like I’m overreacting and calmly says, “Your doctor said meat, didn’t she? Is dairy meat?”

I bite the inside of my cheek as I study him. “Fine. No dairy.”

Before he can respond, my phone vibrates. I look down, frowning at the screen. “Just a minute.”

Noah turns away, scanning the cans of soup.

“Miss Edwards?” a man says when I answer.

Instantly nervous thanks to Ethan and the predicament I’m in, my pulse jumps. “Yes?”

“This is Officer Kerrington. As a courtesy, I’m calling to let you know we’ve arrested the man we believe killed your boyfriend.”

“You’ve arrested him?” I’m so relieved. I don’t even bother to remind him that Kevin was my ex -boyfriend.

“That’s right. He confessed as soon as we brought him in. I can’t give you any more details right now, but I hope it will bring you peace of mind to know he’s off the streets.”

“Yes, thank you.” I gulp as I end the call, feeling lightheaded—and this time, not because of this weird virus I’ve picked up.

“What was that?” Noah casually asks.

I really don’t want to tell him. But he drove me to the doctor, and now we’re grocery shopping. He probably has a right to know that his sickly new acquaintance has some skeletons in her closet.

“About a month ago, my ex-boyfriend was murdered. According to the autopsy, it happened a few hours after I found out he was cheating on me and broke up with him.”

Surprise flashes across his face. “The guy on the news was your ex-boyfriend? The druggy?”

“He wasn’t a druggy!” I exclaim, and then I pause. “At least I would have sworn he wasn’t. But all the evidence says otherwise.”

“No kidding,” Noah deadpans.

“He left a suicide note, but the police are certain it was planted. They’ve been looking for the culprit, and it sounds like they found him.”

“When was this?”

“Do you remember the day you found me at the gas station?”

He gives me a look that says there’s no way he would forget that. And of course he wouldn’t, even if I sort of wish he would.

“It was the evening before that,” I say.

“You went on a date the day after your boyfriend was murdered?”

“ Ex -boyfriend—and I didn’t know then. I found out the morning after. And yes, we had just broken up, but he cheated on me.” I glance around, ensuring no one is nearby, and then lower my voice. “Was I supposed to go through a mourning period?”

“No.”

This whole situation is humiliating. I follow Noah to the checkout lane, wanting to disappear. Date attacks, drug-dealing exes, mystery illnesses—how is this my life?

“Give her my discount, Kella,” Noah says to the young woman behind the register.

Completely ignoring me, she flutters her eyelashes at the grocers’ son. “Sure, Noah.”

He’s oblivious, poor girl. She hides her disappointment, her gaze on the parade of beef making its way across the conveyor belt.

“Thanks,” I say to him after we return to his SUV. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“What can I say? Our grocery store has killer customer service.” He gives me a wry look that on any other day, in any other circumstance, I might confuse for flirtatious.

I laugh, rubbing my neck, feeling for the bite—as seems to be my habit now.

We don’t talk much on the way back to my house. Noah seems lost in thought, and my mind keeps wandering as well.

They caught the guy who murdered Kevin. It really was a drug deal gone wrong. How is that possible?

“Thanks for today,” I say when Noah pulls in front of my house, grabbing the grocery bags. “You want dinner? Cow with a side of beef broth?”

“I have plans.”

“Oh.” Right, of course. He doesn’t want to hang out with me all day. Trying not to look disappointed, I joke, “And here I thought you were a loner.”

He frowns as he studies me from the driver’s seat, like maybe he doesn’t think I can survive on my own. I suppose I haven’t done anything that would convince him otherwise. “Don’t overcook the steaks.”

“I’ll do my best.”

I’m almost to the front door when Noah calls, “Hey, Piper.”

I look back and find him leaning out the window.

“Don’t forget to lock your door,” he says. “And call me if you need me.”

Well. That’s sort of sweet.

“I don’t have your number,” I remind him.

“You can reach me at the store.”

Okay, sweet-ish. Not so sweet he wants to give me his contact info. Heaven forbid I get the wrong idea.

I have the sudden urge to explain to him that I’m normal— that despite all the evidence to the contrary, I lead a very wholesome life.

But it’s too late now. He’s already pulling out of my drive.