Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 64929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“What? I said it was something we needed,” Owen said as he leaned down, peering through his open door at me where I still sat. “C’mon. I’m fucking hungry, and the world is our oyster. Or something.”
“I’m not buying oysters at Walmart.” I might be stuck grocery shopping instead of getting coffee and being lazy, but I was not buying seafood. Yuck. He smirked. “But I hear they’re aphrodisiacs… And you totally need help getting all hot and bothered with me around, hmm?” He pitched his voice low, mindful of the fact that we were in public probably. Despite the apparent confidence, I was starting to be able to read him a little better — and I could tell there was something vulnerable, uncertain, like he expected me to get angry.
“You owe me for this.” I gave him a dramatic sigh and climbed out of the car. “Big time. No coffee and Walmart first thing. I think you’re going to have to be the one bribing me later.”
Owen scoffed. “You’ll be thanking me when I fix you the good coffee with fresh creamer and an omelet. I make a damn good omelet. You’ll be begging me for more, big brother.”
I half-expected that to bring both of us down, to remind us that this was wrong — or that society vehemently thought it was wrong — but it didn’t happen. He just seemed to be taking everything in stride, like the fact that we were brothers was nothing. Was that how he really felt? That it wasn’t something he was going to worry over? The question rolled around in my head, but I didn’t ask.
I didn’t want to know if it did matter. “Begging for more?” I grinned and tried to tease him back the same way he would me. It probably sounded awkward and stupid, but I was going to try. “Maybe for some things, but not food.”
Yeah, stupid.
Owen just smirked and started walking toward the building. “You coming?” “Evidently not yet.” Ha, that one was better.
Even Owen’s smirk changed to laughter. “I hear that gets you kicked out of Walmart,” he said, deadpan. “But hey, if you’re willing to take one for the team…” I got the feeling he was only half kidding. Part of me wanted to know if he’d ever done anything like that before, but it felt a bit too much like I’d be encouraging him. Blow jobs in the car and orgasms in Walmart… He’d definitely dated weirder people than I had.
Deciding that switching topics might be a better idea as we got closer to the building, I ignored the wicked images his teasing put in my head. “What were you thinking of getting? We still have a bit left over on that gift card I got. Omelets mean eggs, but what else?”
Groceries were definitely a safer topic. “Depends on what you like to eat. I hear some of the new dog foods taste like people food…” Owen flashed me a wolfish grin. For a moment, I was almost afraid he was serious. “Lots of cheese…” His smile wavered. “Whatever else you like. Onions, mushrooms, sausage, ham, bacon, spinach…”
“No onions, but lots of sausage.” I honestly didn’t get that it sounded dirty until Owen started snickering. “Not like that! Owen!”
Owen only laughed harder.
Glancing around to make sure no one had heard us, I reached over and shoved him. “You’re terrible.”
“You walked right into that. You ran right into that,” he replied, getting a cart and starting to push it. “Wanna ride on the back of the cart?”
“I’m not five still.” But yes, I did want to ride on the cart. No one ever outgrew that. “Your point is…?” Owen asked, arching a brow, as though he could hear my thoughts. “Fine, fine. We’ll have other fun later.”
What kind of fun? I was smart enough not to ask that in the middle of Walmart. That answer really would get us kicked out.
Hopefully. “Come on. I want cinnamon bread. The good kind from the bakery for toast to go with the omelet you owe me.” I put one hand on the cart handle next to his and pushed it toward the bakery, trying not to let anyone see how badly I wanted to be holding his hand instead.
“No, that bread thing mom used to bring home that had the chocolate braided into it. What was that called? That was even better.” He started steering the cart away from my bread.
“Oh, no. I get to pick. It’s my turn, and you owe me.” I ignored the pleading look he sent me. Faker was just trying to get his way. “That’s not going to work. It stopped working a long time ago. You’re not five either.”
“I should hope not,” Owen said with a leer that went straight to my cock. “But damn it. I’ll have to work on my puppy eyes… though I think you’ll always have me beat there.”