Read Online Make It Right by Megan Erickson - Free Book Online Page B

recipe—the secret was to melt the butter and let it sit until it came to room temperature before adding it to the batter—and these cat treats didn’t look hard to make.
    Of course, on his rare Sunday off, he should have been writing a paper for macroeconomics—a class he hated with a passion—but his cat came first.
    He grabbed a pen and jotted down the ingredients.
    “Be back, buddy,” he said, bending down to scratch Wayne under the chin, his favorite spot.
    It started raining on his way to the grocery store, and his wipers were so rotted on his old truck, he could barely see anything. He made a note to buy new ones. Luckily, he could do basic car maintenance himself. That was one thing he could thank his dad for.
    He parked and ran inside the grocery store, then grabbed a small cart. He realized halfway down the first aisle that his had a bum wheel and it rattled over the tile floor so it sounded like he was dragging about four chains behind him. The Ghost of Nine Lives. Fucking cart. He always got a bad one.
    But he was tired and wanted to get back, so he kept pushing his obnoxious cart and ignored the looks from other shoppers. He needed some essentials. His dad threw him a couple of bucks for working on the weekends, but most of it went to his “debt” for his dad paying for his school. And he made some spare change at his job at the rec center. He grabbed some milk, bread, chicken breasts and frozen vegetables. Then he ran through his list for Wayne’s treats and pushed through the aisles to gather what he needed. His cart held a random assortment of products—baby food, rice, eggs, and rice flour. The recipe called for parsley, which Max had at home. He used it to make chicken picatta, a recipe he gleaned from that Italian chick on the Food Network. He’d started watching her because she was hot and had great tits and always wore low-cut shirts. But then he started making her food and now he was a little bit in love with her.
    But he did need salad ingredients, so he rattled his loud-ass cart over to the lettuce. A bag of chopped romaine went in the cart, then a container of grape tomatoes. Next were cucumbers. He grabbed one, threw it in and without looking up, reached for another. His hands closed around the width, but when he tugged, it didn’t budge. He glanced at the cucumber, only to see a hand on the other end. A rather dainty, feminine hand. His eyes followed the thin wrist with delicate, protruding bones peeking out from the cuff of a pale purple sweater, up to a shoulder covered in a cascade of dark hair until he met the dark irises of Lea. He hadn’t seen her since he dropped her off at her house two nights ago.
    Her eyes, normally so round in her small face, were widened in surprise, as they both gripped opposite ends of a rather large cucumber.
    “Umm . . .” Max mumbled. “Hey Lea.”
    She blinked, those long lashes fluttering over flushed cheeks. “Hi Max.”
    Neither moved, still gripping this cucumber between them like they were passing a baton in a race. A baton held at his crotch, which sorted his mind into one track. And because Lea made all his good sense and flirting knowledge fly out the window, he resorted to teasing her. In the library, he’d noticed the teasing coaxed Lea out of her shell. Instead of ignoring him or clamming up, she focused all that energy on him, even if it was to blast his ego to bits.
    “You want this one?” He jiggled his hand, and her arm vibrated with the movement. His lip twitched involuntarily. “It’s kind of big. You sure you don’t want something smaller?”
    One slow blink, and then those dark eyes flashed and narrowed. Her lips twisted in a wicked smile. “Oh, I like them big. Just so many more uses for them when there’s some girth, you know?”
    For fuck’s sake. That smile. Those red lips, now wet from one swipe of her pink tongue. And he was hard. In a grocery-store produce aisle. While holding a cucumber.
    Could he get arrested