Page 88 of Indescribable

“Our booty. Our finds. Our treasures. Whatever you want to call it. I think it’ll be fun to see what we buy for each other.”

“Heck yes, it will! Wait, aren’t we close to a Target already?”

“We are.”

“What are you waiting for?”

He chuckles. “You know this is not a shopping spree, right? Like, you can’t get stuck at the dollar spot place or wander around for hours?”

“Um, who says?”

“That’s not part of the game, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be a fun hater, Brock. And you can’t give me a time limit in Target. I have no idea what kinds of things will speak to me while I’m in there.”

“What is it with people and Target? I swear every time Corbin walks into the store she blacks out and comes to after dropping three hundred dollars even though she went in for laundry detergent.”

I pat his cheek. “It’s a Target thing. If you don’t get it already, I’ll just have to teach you. It’s okay, honey. You’ll learn with enough trips.”

His eyes go soft and he leans into my hand. “I’ll probably regret saying this, but I’m looking forward to it. Just means more time together.”

“Do you have to have a good reply for everything?”

His reply this time is even better. He pulls me closer to him and gives me a kiss that has my senses tingling. Man, this guy can kiss. It’s not surprising, but seriously every kiss sends little bottle rockets shooting off inside me.

Far too soon he ends the kiss, insisting that we justhaveto go to Target now. It’s the only acceptable reason to stop kissing me so I agree.

He pulls into the parking lot, which is pretty empty. Though, that’s not a surprise since it’s eight-thirty at night and it just started to rain.

“Ready to go? There’s a list in the envelope for each of us along with the cash.”

“I’m going to win, I just know it.”

“Win what?” he asks, laughing.

“The game! Who picks the better things, dummy.”

“Oh, so it’s a competition, huh? Game on, sweetheart.”

With our hands linked together, we take off running through the rain, trying to cover our heads with our arms like that’s really going to make a difference.

We’re pretty wet when we get inside, but not soaked or dripping. I’m sure I have mascara running down my cheeks and do need to use the restroom so we make a quick stop there first where I do my business, wash my hands, and check my face.

All I see when I look in the mirror is happiness.

Pure happiness.

I don’t think I’ll be able to wipe the smile off my face for weeks.

Hopefully none of the characters in the book I’m writing want to be jerks because I think I’ll only be able to write gushy romance.

Brock’s waiting for me, leaning with one foot propped up against the wall.

“Ready?”

“You bet. Should we give ourselves a time limit?”

“I was thinking of making it a challenge. Twenty minutes?”