18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Toby

M y dick is hard.

So hard that I had to tie it down with the waistband of my boxers, but even that is proving to only rub just the right spot and keep me solid through the entire barren cereal aisle.

Anna leads me around the store to avoid any high traffic areas, while I get to keep my sights glued to the peach of an ass she's been hiding.

I knew the woman had curves, but damn …

" Jeffers ," Anna whisper-snaps and eyes me around the frosted freezer door. When did we end up in the freezer aisle? "Stop watching my butt and help."

Snorting, I pull my beanie over my brows and step around the barely-filled cart. "Say ass and I will."

She rolls her eyes from the recesses of my hoodie's hood and tries to reach past the empty shelves. "You're the worst."

"Fine." I shrug and crowd her in. "Don't say it." Reaching up past her, I lean in until my hips meet her and her gasp of surprise fills my ears. "I like that sound better, anyway," I whisper on a dark chuckle and snag the last bag of frozen veggies to toss into the basket.

She skitters out of the freezer— away from me—before the plastic bag can even make contact with the crates inside the cart and practically dives into another section of mostly vacant freezer.

Smirking, I pull the cart and call on a snicker after the woman who darts along ahead of me, "Prune, wait for me."

"No!" she snaps and darts into another section, her fist white-knuckling around the handle.

"There's that word again …" I trail off, my gaze traveling down the arch of her back to the ass that sticks out past the glazed pane between us.

How have I missed this?

"There's nothing left ." She unknowingly struts along the aisle, her flustered hands sweeping at the static-infused hair that peeks out past her hood. I can't see them, but she's been doing it since we parked in the busy lot just outside this rinky-dink establishment—the only grocer within a hundred miles of our cabin.

It's been added to since I was here last—newish equipment put in and a wall knocked out for more floor space—but otherwise, it's the same old overly packed shithole with boxes still stashed along the aisleways, and paths worn into the dingy tile floors.

Bet it's bothering the fuck out of her.

"Prune." I reach out, my fingers pinching the fabric of her sleeve. "I know where the good shit is." Her wild eyes swing on me and it's the wideness of them that has me tugging her around. "C'mon."

"O-okay." She allows me to turn her around and walk to the back where the dry goods are kept.

The wall is lined with all the prepackaged goodness.

"I am so out of depth," Anna whispers, her unfocused sight trained on the boxes in front of her.

"Good thing garbage happens to be my expertise." When she finally spares me a glance, I shoot her a smirk that has her biting her lip, and even though I want to tell her to quit doing that shit, I know that's the last thing she needs. "Look, I know it's not kale salads or whatever the hell it is you make in the morning, but it's edible and doesn't require a fridge if we lose power."

"Guh, why do you have to remind me that's a possibility?"

Snorting, I move along the aisle and start filling the otherwise empty cart. "We can run through the freezers again and snag the last few healthy bags of crap that we can eat first."

Anna puffs out a resigned breath and reaches for a box of granola bars. "You sound like you've had to do this before."

I arch a brow in her direction and move down the aisle. "Course I have, Prune."

"Right." She tentatively places the granola bars in the cart and follows me. "Why don't you ever talk about it?"

Grunting, I dump more shit in the cart. "Just assumed most kids went camping or road-tripping at some point in their lives. Nothing fancy about it."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," I sigh and shake my head. "There's just nothing to talk about."

"Except there's plenty to discuss," she presses, the green of her irises piercing me in a way I haven't noticed before.

Like she can see right through me.

"And you think," I start as I step into her, my boots hitting the toes of her sneakers, "now's the time? In the middle of a packed grocery store?"

Anna hums her begrudged agreement, but I don't miss the flick of her attention to the way my lips form the words. It's quick, but I see it.

The growl of appreciation is out of my throat before I can think better of it, the sound widening her eyes for a split second before she backs away from me once again, just in time to bump into a man reaching past her. "Excuse me," she rushes out as she spins to him. "I didn't see you there."

"No shit," he snarks back, reaching around her to snag something off the shelf.

It's only a split second, but he boxes Anna in against the racks, and my vision goes red.

"She said excuse me , motherfucker," I bark and grab her elbow, pulling her to me. "Back the fuck up."

"Keep your woman in check then, bro ," he snaps, and I take a step toward him.

"Don't." Anna tries to tug me away from the douche with an inflated ego, but her efforts are futile because I'm yet another step closer.

"Oh, I guess your woman's got you in check." The guy actually laughs like this shit is funny to him. "Got that mixed up."

Boiling hot rage heats my blood when I push her behind me and step right up to the guy. "Leave her outta this."

He scoffs right in my face. "Then teach your bitch to watch where the fuck she's going."

My fist connects with his jaw before I even realize I've thrown the punch. Grabbing a flustered Anna and our cart, I head for the back employee-only exit. I leave three hundred-dollar bills under a box by the desk—more than enough to cover our groceries—as we make our escape.

"Jeffers, what are you doing? They have to scan the stuff."

My hand lands on her lower back to keep her moving. "I paid for it and then some. Don't worry about it."

"Wait, hold on," Anna hisses, her feet slowing despite my pushing. "We can't just—"

"Stop," I growl and spin her to face me. "It's this or finishing the fight with that guy." Narrowing her eyes, she sinks her teeth into her lip like a goddamned tease. "Let's go."

Snagging the cart with one hand and Anna's wrist in the other, I blend right into the horde of people that leave the store until our car comes into view.

It's a pain in the ass to toss individual packages into the trunk with a co-pilot that supplies more eye rolls than hands and enough grumbling to last the century.

"Seriously, just let me go back in and talk to them." Anna gestures to the storefront.

Throwing a glance over my shoulder through a haze of snowflakes, I catch sight of the guy that insulted Anna wandering around the store with a scowl that suggests he hasn't gotten over it. I can't explain what came over me in the first place, and I'm definitely not interested in finding it out a second time.

"No. Now, let's go before I finish the fight I started."

Huffing, Anna spins away and heads to the front of the car while I slam the trunk closed.