She harrumphs and sits up taller in the seat. “Says you.”
I laugh. “God, I love you.” The words just slip out, and I don’t regret them. I know I told her during sex, but during sex really doesn’t count because it’s easy to get overwhelmed during sex.
“I’m pretty fond of you too,” she replies.
I suck in a breath. “Pretty fond?” I lay my hand on my chest like she has wounded me. “Pretty fond?” I say again. “I made you come your brains out this morning and I only get pretty fond?”
“I’ll consider upgrading you at a later date,” she quips.
I pull into a parking spot at the tackle shop and yank her against me before she can get out. “I need to tell you something,” I say, my face close to hers so I know I have all her attention.
“Okay,” she replies slowly, her gaze wary. “If you’re going to tell me you’re sleeping with some other chick and you got her pregnant, I’m going to kick you in the nuts, because I would actually care if you do it.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you.”
She kisses me really quickly. The tiny little bits of affection she shows at random times are one of the things I enjoy most about her. They make me feel loved. She nudges me when I lose my train of thought.
“I want to ask you to marry me,” I rush to say, all in one breath.
She raises her brows. “You do?”
I nod as a smile tugs at the corners of my lips. “I do.”
She shakes her head. “So what are you waiting for?” Then she grins at me.
“You’re already married. And in North Carolina it takes quite a while to get unmarried, from what I understand.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I’m not finished yet. “And I’m just not completely sure if you want me to do it now or if you want me to wait until after your divorce is final.”
She shrugs. “Do whatever you want.” She turns and opens the door of the truck, like she’s going to get out.
“That doesn’t help!” I say. She grins, rolls her eyes, and gets out. She slams the door behind her.
I get out on my side and follow her into the store. Shy grins when he sees us. “Two of my favorite customers,” he says. “Can I help you find something?”
“We’re frying fish,” Abigail announces.
“Aisle seven,” he says with a wink.
She winks back and heads in that direction, grabbing a little red basket that she hooks over her arm.
She starts to throw things into the basket. She gets hush puppy mix, some fish fry meal, some onions, and she even gets mayonnaise and cabbage. “You can’t have a fish fry without slaw. And Gran’s slaw is good enough to make you slap your mama.” She makes a kissing motion with her fingertips. She picks up a large jug of cooking oil and holds it out to me. I take it so I can carry it for her because it’s too big and heavy for the basket.
She walks around the corner and disappears out of my sight. I wander around, looking at nothing. Then I see, on a low shelf, a bucket full of soft rubber bracelets. I pick up two, making sure they match, and I carry them to the front of the store. I grab Shy’s pen and write my name in big block letters on the inside of one and her name on the inside of the other. I slide the one with her name inside onto my wrist.
“This is like déjà vu,” Shy says with a laugh. He leans toward me. “Go get one more for your boy,” he suggests.
Great idea. I dash back and get one more in the same color, and then I come back to the register and I find Abigail is already there. She’s shooting the shit with Shy, and he’s laughing at her.
“Did you get everything you need?” I ask her.
She nods, and then she sees the bracelet I’m holding. “Is that for me?” she asks quietly.
“Nope,” I say, as I make sure Shy rang it up, and then I shove it in my pocket.
“Oh,” she replies, and she visibly deflates a little. I grab the one that I wrote my name in and hold it out. She looks inside and sees the big block letters. “This one’s mine,” she says with a grin. She buries her face against my upper arm. “Thank you,” she says softly.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Shy announces.
Abigail blushes fiercely.