There were plenty of supermarkets around their neighborhood.
Sienna Quinn never expected Jorrod Vaughn to drag her all the way to this specific convenience store near Scott Reed's workplace.
She looked at him through the car window. "Why are we here?"
Jorrod didn't answer. He unbuckled his seatbelt, stepped out, walked around the car, and opened the passenger door.
The biting winter wind rushed in, making Sienna shrink her neck against the chill.
The man stood tall and straight by the door, reaching his hand out to her.
It wasn't as quiet outside as it was indoors, the sound of his voice slightly scattered by the wind.
Sienna heard him say, "My hand is warm. Hold it."
She didn't move, quietly staring at his outstretched palm.
His fingers were long, his knuckles pronounced.
In reality, she was intimately familiar with it. Whenever they were alone, even back when they first dated, she loved nesting her hand in his warm, broad, and powerful palm. It always gave her a profound sense of security.
They had shared every intimacy imaginable—they had kissed, embraced, and given themselves to each other completely.
But holding hands in public? Whether before his amnesia, during it, or after their reconciliation, it was something they had never done.
It felt like something an ordinary couple would do, yet to her, it felt entirely foreign.
Jorrod noticed her hesitation. He remained silent, merely extending his hand an inch closer.
Sienna gently placed her hand in his.
Jorrod closed his fingers, gripping tight, the warmth of his palm seeping directly into her skin.
As they walked into the convenience store together, Sienna finally realized something was off. She muttered under her breath, "Wait, we're just here to buy condoms. Why did I have to get out of the car with you?"
Jorrod turned his head to look at her. "Between the two of us, you're the one who knows best."
"What?" Sienna asked instinctively. "Knows what best?"
"My size and preferred brand."


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