Page 202 of What We Brave
An older couple at the adjacent stall. The man is examining green beans, but the woman is watching us. Not glancing—watching. When she catches my eye, she doesn't look away. Just pursed lips and a slow, disapproving shake of her head before she turns back to her husband.
That’s two.
The bottom drops out of my stomach. The urge to step away from Reid, to put three feet of polite, platonic distance between us, hits me so hard my knees actually lock.Why did I think this was a good idea? You can't just force people to accept this.
Blake feels it. His hand finds the small of my back—brief, heavy, grounding.
Reid steps sideways, casually but deliberately shifting his broad shoulders to completely block my view of the older woman. He holds up another toothpick. "Okay, now the sharp cheddar," he says, his voice perfectly steady, ignoring the couple entirely. "Open up, Laine. Focus on the cheese. It's going to change your life."
I blink, forcing my eyes up to his hazel ones. "You say that about the other cheese."
"Every cheesedoeschange my life."
I take a shaky breath and let him feed me the cheddar. He's trying so hard to protect me. They both are. Blake's hand is still a warm, solid weight at my back. Reid is an impenetrable wall of sunshine in front of me.
"Okay," I say, chewing. "That is good cheese."
"See? Life-changing." Reid grins, tossing the toothpick into a nearby trash can. Then his head snaps up like a bloodhound catching a scent. "Oh, hell yes. Hot sauce."
The vendor ahead is a bearded guy in his forties with a setup that looks like a chemistry lab—rows of bottles in graduated shades fromsunshine yellow to don't-even-think-about-it red. Reid approaches with the focus of a man on a mission.
"Tell me everything," Reid says, leaning on the table.
The vendor blinks. "About... which one?"
"All of them. Start from the left. I want the full experience."
Blake and I hang back a step while Reid launches into what can only be described as a hot sauce seminar. The vendor, initially cautious, quickly realizes he's found a kindred spirit and starts pulling out bottles from under the table."This one's got mango habanero—""Oh, I'm in.""And this one's a ghost pepper blend, but we balance it with—""Give me that immediately."
"He's going to buy the entire table," Blake says, his voice a low rumble next to my ear.
"He totally is," I agree.
"Should we stop him?"
"Can you stop a force of nature?"
Blake considers this, his eyes tracking Reid's chaotic energy. "No."
I lean into Blake's arm, letting myself just watch Reid systematically work his way through every sample. The vendor is fully won over now, laughing at Reid's increasingly dramatic reactions. A small crowd has gathered—just two other shoppers waiting their turn, but they're smiling. Not judging. Just watching the show.
"Oh.Oh.Okay, this one." Reid turns to us, eyes slightly watery, holding a tiny plastic spoon like it contains the meaning of life. "Laine. You have to try this one. It's got mango and it's—just try it."
"Is it going to remove a layer of my mouth?"
"Your mouth will be fine. Probably. Blake, you too. Open wide."
Blake takes a deliberate step back. "I'm not involved in this."
"You're absolutely involved. Get over here."
Blake sighs—his long-suffering,why-do-I-live-with-yousigh—and steps up to the table. The vendor hands him a sample of something dark and ominous.
"That's the ghost pepper blend," the vendor says, in the tone of someone issuing a safety warning. "Fair warning."
Blake tries it. Doesn't blink. Nods once. "I'll take a bottle."
I peer closely at his face. "Your eyes are watering."
