Poppy’s audible sigh broke through my fascination with a box that featured a bright cartoon tiger. “Seb, sweetheart, I’m not going to run off with some guy in the produce section. Stand down, soldier.” “What?” I glanced up from the sparkling-sugar photo of corn flakes, confused. She leaned closer, murmuring at my ear, a tinge of humor in her voice. “Keane’s supposed to be the grumpy one, but you’ve been looking at every man here like you want to take a potato peeler to his dick, honey.” I grinned, embarrassed, as I added the box to our slowly-filling cart. “Sorry, Red. I should be fully out of
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