“So, do you have a lot of family here?” I ask her as she chooses a box of oatmeal and tosses it into the basket.
“Yeah. My family goes back a long ways. I’m related to a lot of people. Lots of cousins. And I know almost everyone.”
“Why didn’t you tell her I’m your patient?”
“Because, technically, you’re not my patient. And because your medical situation is your business. It’s not my place to say anything. Besides, you are my friend. I mean, not like a close one, but we’re friendly.”
She leads me down a seasonal aisle, and her face lights up. “Oh, this is fun. We’ll pick up some Christmas stuff today, but I’ll get the majority of my things later. I’ll hit the thrift shop, too, because people change their décor all the time, and you can find some really great stuff there.”
“Why are you buying holiday rubbish?”
She turns to me with a frown, her lips plump and glossy from that stuff she constantly spreads over them. Fucking hell, I want to kiss her.
“Because it’s December. Which means it’s almost Christmas. Don’t you like having holiday things in the house?”
“It’s not on my radar, no.”
“You’re telling me the royal family doesn’t decorate for the holidays?”
“Of course, they do. Or their staff does, at least. It’s my job to protect them, not hang stockings.”
She tosses red and green baking sprinkles into the cart, making me frown.
“But don’t you see your family?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I just don’t.” I exhale and push my hand through my hair. I’m not getting into this. Especially in the Christmas aisle of the grocery store. “There’s no need to go to all that trouble.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble.”
“It’s not my house to decorate,” I remind her, but she just shrugs one shoulder.
“I already talked to Nina about it. She’s fine with me making the place look a little festive. Don’t worry, I won’t go overboard. Gosh, speaking of Nina, I sure do like her. She’s so nice.”
“How do you know her?” I ask. I know of everyone the princess has contact with, but Jordan’s name has never been on that list.
“Oh, I don’t. Not really. I met her through my other cousin, Willa. Well, she’s not technically my cousin, but our families are close, so we’ve always said cousin. Willa told me that Nina needed someone for this job and put me in touch with her. I’m so glad she did.”
There’s that sweet smile again as we leave that aisle and turn down the coffee one. “We’re going to need more coffee. And creamer. Sometimes, I like whipped cream in my coffee, so I’ll grab that, too. I’m going to make strawberry pie over the weekend. That’ll go well with the whipped cream, too.”
“I thought we were going to be eating healthy.”
She just laughs at my snide comment and leads me through the store. She stops to chat with those she knows, which seems to be almost everyone.
Once we’re at the checkout, and the cashier gives us the amount due, I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
“We went a little crazy,” I say as I reach for my wallet.
“There is literally nothing in that house,” Jordan says, waving me off and pulling a card out of her wallet. “And this is taken care of.”
I don’t question her here, but the urge is strong. Who the hell is taking care of it? I don’t want Nina and Sebastian to pay for my bloody groceries.
That’s above and beyond.
When we get to the car, I start to unload the groceries, but Jordan puts up a hand. Her face has gone from happy-go-lucky to all-business.
“No. These bags are heavy, and you will not lift them. I’m perfectly capable.”
I don’t say a word, just push her aside and resume grabbing the bags. Suddenly, she’s in my way, all five-foot-nothing of her in my face.
“Nick, don’t make me get mean.”
Her voice is stern. Her face is hard.
Buggering hell, if I thought I was turned on by her earlier, that was nothing compared to this.
“Fine.”
I get into the car and seethe as she handles all of the bags, then rolls the cart to the return slot behind us.
“It’s gonna snow tonight,” she says when she gets into the vehicle. She pulls her seatbelt on and starts the engine. “I’m so excited. I love the snow. Maybe I’ll sit outside in it later. It’s not too cold.”
I don’t answer. I don’t like feeling incapable. Inadequate.
For fuck’s sake, I should be working, not fetching groceries.
“I’m making the tacos for dinner. With margaritas.”
“Whatever’s your cup of tea.”
She glances my way. “What crawled up your butt?”
I’m silent as she drives through town.
“Are you pissed because I didn’t let you help with the bags? Nick, this is the whole reason I’m here. To make sure you don’t do things like that. It’s the whole point.”