The Godparent Trap

I was going to get in a fight in the grocery store parking lot, wasn’t I? Over oil? My cheeks burned with embarrassment as he just kept casually talking.

“Hey.” He picked up the plunger. “We needed one of these. Ben’s been really trying to clog every toilet in the house.”

I glared. “You’re not even a little bit embarrassed, are you?”

“Nope.” His smile was gorgeous. “I mean, necessity is necessity. Thanks for thinking of the kids. Are you embarrassed?”

“No,” I lied, holding my head up high. “This was supposed to be about having fun and letting go!”

“That’s what I thought.” He laughed, which made my competitive side want to crawl out, and then I realized we were together. Laughing. At the grocery store. And it wasn’t awkward—I mean, apart from the items. And he wasn’t scowling at me.

I wasn’t plotting his death.

I was having fun with him.

A first.

And I found that I didn’t want it to end. I wanted to cry party foul and play all over again if only he’d laugh like that, smile at me like that, make me feel like I was the only woman in the world.

He smiled and held out his hand toward the conveyor belt. “Shall we?”

I sighed. “I can’t believe I’m buying condoms, hemorrhoid cream, wart remover, and baby oil. Never took you for the sexually adventurous type,” I joked.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me against his chest, shocking me so much that it was suddenly hard to breathe. What had gotten into him?

“That’s because you don’t really know me… do you?” he whispered, confirming that he at least felt something too and that I wasn’t wrong about the almost-kiss or any other moment.

His fingers danced along my skin before he pulled away. I turned around to face him, and our eyes locked as my lips parted. My breath caught in my chest as he took a step forward.

And I literally had a daydream of him tossing me onto the conveyor belt next to the gum and pulling my shirt off over my head.

Baby oil?

Hell yes, I’ll use that oil, please and thank you.

His hand lifted like he was going to touch my face.

“Hey, you gonna pay or what?” Some high school boy with black-rimmed glasses interrupted whatever the hell was just about to happen.

“Y-yes.” I somehow managed to get my debit card out of my purse. It took me three times to get the stupid chip in the chip reader.

“Hey, you OK?” the kid at checkout asked. “Your cheeks just got bright red.”

“Yup. Good. Awesome. We should go.” I quickly purchased the items and ignored the odd look from the high school–age cashier as he bagged my order, then quickly did Rip’s.

Rip grinned as he checked out his items and said, “Thanks for your help.”

Ugh.

When we got back to the car, we were both silent, and then he laughed. “That was fun.”

“What’s the baby oil for?” I blurted out. “Sorry, my imagination is the devil.”

His eyes flashed as he leaned in and whispered, “Trade secret, can’t tell.”

I gasped. “Do you have a kinky side I don’t know about? Tell me everything! Leave out no details!”

He burst out laughing. “Nope, no details, just know, oil can be… fun.”