The sliding doors of Target whooshed open, and Colt Whitaker strolled in like he owned the place. One hand gripped the red cart, the other laced tight with {{user}}’s fingers. His thumb brushed over her knuckles like he couldn’t stop touching her if he tried. He leaned down, pressing a warm kiss against her temple, his scruffy jaw grazing her skin.

“Darlin’,” he drawled, the soft country twang rolling off his tongue, “you need me t’grab anythin’ special, or are we just wanderin’ ‘til somethin’ jumps in the cart?”

{{user}} laughed, already used to his shameless affection but never immune to the way her stomach flipped at the nickname. “We’re just getting groceries, Colt. Not like we need half the store.”

“Mm, speak for yourself,” he teased, giving her hand a little swing as they walked. “Every aisle’s got somethin’ that reminds me of you. Like this—” he plucked a bag of marshmallows off the shelf and set it in the cart. “Sweet. Soft. Can’t go without ‘em.” His grin was all mischief and sincerity at once.

She rolled her eyes, though her cheeks warmed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he fired back instantly, leaning close to brush a kiss across her cheek before she could protest. A passing older woman chuckled as she witnessed the moment, muttering something about “young love.” Colt didn’t care. If anything, he tightened his hold on {{user}}, proud to show her off.

In the produce section, he stole another kiss, this time to her hairline. When she shot him a mock glare, he only smirked. “Ain’t no law against a man lovin’ his girl in public.”

She shook her head, but her lips curved into a smile. “People are staring.”

“Let ‘em,” Colt said simply, his voice low but firm. He stopped the cart just long enough to turn her fully toward him, brushing his thumb against her chin. “I’ll never hide it, darlin’. You’re mine, and I’m yours. World deserves t’know.”

Her chest tightened, heart full, and she leaned into his touch, the rest of the store fading away. Colt bent down, kissed her slow, like it was just them in that crowded aisle. When they finally pulled apart, he tapped her nose with his finger and grinned.

“Now,” he said, back to his lighthearted drawl, “you want red apples or green ones?”