Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“So since we’re talking about me needing you, can you get me a few basics for a few days? Clothes, my thyroid medicine, a bikini?”
“Absolutely. Aside from the meds, anything specific you want?”
“Not really. You know what I like. Wait. Do you remember my red bikini with the triangular top?”
“I do.”
“Can you dig that out? If not, it’s fine. But I’d really like to have it down here.” My stomach twists as I remember Foxx’s reaction the last time I wore it in front of him. I grin mischievously. “And that see-through cover-up I got in Bali last year.”
“Got ya, boss. I can overnight it, but you won’t have it until Monday morning. Can you figure things out until then? I can get your doctor to call you in a couple of pills somewhere local to you, so you should be able to get those tonight, if a pharmacy is open wherever you are.”
“I’m in Kismet Beach, Florida. And, yes, that all works great. Thank you, Astrid.”
“Of course. If you think of anything else, just call or text me. And feel free to do the same if anything else happens that’s noteworthy.”
I laugh. “I’m pretty sure he’s ruled out anything noteworthy from happening. But I might have a little fun torturing him back since he left me without saying goodbye.”
“That’s my girl!”
“Goodbye, Astrid.”
“Goodbye, Bianca.”
I end the call just as the garage door opens. Foxx walks in, looking a little worse for wear. His shirt is slightly askew, and his forehead is marred with lines like he’s been in deep thought.
My brows pull together. “Are you all right?”
He runs his hand through his already-mussed hair and sighs. He stares at me for a moment, and I think that he might answer me.
But he doesn’t.
“Did you get your calls made?” he asks.
I start to point out that he’s ignoring my questions again but stop short of opening my mouth. Something tells me now isn’t the time to screw with him.
“I did,” I say.
He nods. “Okay. Do you want to run to the store and pick up a few things?”
I don’t. I want to sit here and look at him, wait for him to remember that I’m not his enemy. I’m not someone who is happy staying on the other side of the wall he’s built around himself. That at one point a few months ago, things between us were … special.
At least, to me. He walked away as if there was nothing between us at all. I frown. Maybe I need to adjust my thinking, too.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I say instead.
He holds the door open for me, and I walk out of the house.
CHAPTER 6
Bianca
“What’s wrong?” Foxx asks, grabbing a shopping cart at the front of the store.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re looking around like you’ve never been in a grocery store before.”
I wait for him to untangle the cart from the others and join me before I answer. Finally, he frees the buggy—not without more than a few profanities muttered under his breath—and meets me at the apples.
“I don’t know the last time I was in a grocery store,” I say, falling in step with him. “It’s the little things in life that you don’t realize you’ve missed so much until you do them again.”
“Do you remember how to do this? Or do you need a refresher?”
I bump him with my shoulder. “Are you being cheeky, Mr. Carmichael?”
He tries to appear unamused, but there’s the faintest twinkle in his eyes. Thank God.
The ride to the store was quiet. Foxx seemed preoccupied—somber but not grumpy. He glanced at me over his shoulder now and then, his brows pulled together. I didn’t push or crack a joke. I just sat still, giving him a small smile when I caught his eye and gave him room to work out whatever was going through his head.
By the time we pulled into the parking lot, his shoulders were much more relaxed. The lines around his eyes had lessened. And he’d stopped clenching the steering wheel so hard that I could see the whites of his knuckles.
I want to ask what was bothering him. But, knowing Foxx, he would just retreat further inside himself.
I pick up a bundle of bananas and put them into the cart. “I’ve been having groceries delivered or having Astrid pick things up for me. And I’ve been ordering out a lot—too much, really.”
“Have you been taking care of yourself?”
“What do you mean?”
He reaches for a bin of blueberries. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
He adds the berries to the cart and exhales.
“What do you mean, Foxx?”
We move lazily down the aisle. I’m curious about what he has to say. What does he know about me taking care of myself? He hasn’t been around in months. He has no idea what my life looks like now.