Contract Marriage with My Secret Partner in Crime-Chapter 133: Grocery Shopping

Kendrick nodded. "Usually when I’m the one cooking, ’cause you know." He then smiled at her cheekily.

Zephany, understanding what he meant, pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Then maybe I should come. I mean... I cook sometimes now too. Might as well learn from the pro."

Kendrick raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "The pro, huh?"

She gave a small, awkward smile. "You did make that stew last time that Pia wouldn’t stop talking about."

He chuckled, tossing her a grin. "Alright. Grab your shoes, wife. We’re going on a field trip. I mean... grocery shopping."

Zephany’s cheeks flushed instantly at the word. She glanced at him, lips parting as if to say something, then quickly looked away. Her heart thudded a little harder.

Two could play that game.

She took a breath, pretending to sound casual, but her voice betrayed her—softer and more uncertain than she meant. "Okay... wait for me, Husband," she said, the word catching slightly in her throat.

The second it left her mouth, her face went completely red.

Her eyes widened a fraction, and before he could see how much it had flustered her, she spun around and half-jogged out of the room. "I-I’m just gonna go change!" she called out quickly, disappearing down the hallway.

Kendrick blinked.

For a beat, he didn’t move. Then a grin tugged at his mouth, slow and genuine. He ran a hand over the back of his neck, his own ears warming.

"She really said it," he murmured under his breath, half in disbelief, half in awe.

His smile deepened, and he let out a short laugh, still looking toward the hallway she had vanished into.

"God, she’s so cute..." he muttered, and this time, even he was blushing.

---

The drive to the grocery store didn’t take long. It was quiet and easy, with the windows slightly rolled down and a lazy Sunday playlist humming from the speakers. Zephany watched the streetlights flicker past, her fingers resting lightly on her lap.

Kendrick glanced over once, catching her staring out the window.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just thinking."

"Dangerous hobby."

She rolled her eyes but smiled faintly.

When they pulled into the parking lot, Kendrick parked smoothly, like someone who had done this routine a hundred times. Zephany climbed out, tugging her hoodie over her arms as the breeze touched her skin.

Inside, the automatic doors whooshed open, and the familiar cool air of the grocery store greeted them. Kendrick grabbed a cart with one hand and pushed it forward with practiced ease. Zephany trailed a step behind, her eyes already scanning the neatly arranged shelves.

A middle-aged woman arranging produce nearby spotted them and waved. "Kendrick! Back again, huh?"

Kendrick smiled and gave a small nod. "Morning, Aunt Cora. Looks like you got some new watermelon in."

"Sweetest batch this week. I saved a few for you in the back. I’ll grab them later."

Zephany blinked, surprised. "They know you here?"

Kendrick shrugged. "I shop here a lot."

A young stock boy waved from the frozen aisle. "Boss Kendrick! The fresh dumplings just got restocked."

Kendrick grinned. "Appreciate it, Mark."

Zephany stared at him. "You have a fan club."

"Not a fan club. Just people who like good dumplings."

She folded her arms. "Sure."

He pushed the cart a little further, then suddenly stopped and turned to her. "So, boss wife, what do you want to get first?"

Zephany blinked at the question. She hadn’t thought that far. For a second, she fidgeted with the strap of her bag.

Then she brightened. "Fruits! Let’s buy fruits first."

Kendrick looked amused. Her expression had gone from uncertain to excited in a flash, and he couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out.

"Alright. I’ll follow my wife."

His teasing hit her like a small jolt. She still couldn’t get used to it—especially now that she knew he truly had feelings for her.

Her face flushed instantly, and she turned away, quickly walking off without saying a word.

He laughed quietly and called after her. "It’s on the right side, wife."

Zephany, flustered, turned left.

Kendrick’s eyes widened, and he rushed after her. "No, Zeph, not there. It’s on the right. Okay, okay, I won’t tease you anymore. Don’t be mad."

She stopped walking and slowly turned to face him.

Mad? Did he really think she was mad?

Her mind raced.

She wasn’t mad. Not even a little. She just didn’t know how to react. Even after all these days, hearing him say that word still made her heart beat too fast. It made her feel seen, safe, and shy all at once.

She couldn’t look him in the eyes when he said it. Her feet just moved on their own, anywhere but near him, because she had no idea what her face might give away.

Kendrick now stood in front of her, cart parked haphazardly beside him. His expression was apologetic, like he had just stepped on a kitten.

"You’re not... actually mad, are you?" he asked.

Zephany stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. "I’m not mad."

He let out a small sigh of relief. "Okay. Good. I thought maybe I overdid it with the teasing."

She bit her lip, trying to fight the smile creeping up. "You did."

He smirked. "But it was worth it. You should’ve seen your face."

She huffed. "You’re impossible."

He leaned slightly closer. "But charming, right?"

Zephany looked away, pretending to inspect the nearest shelf. "Let’s just get the fruits."

Kendrick grinned and pointed to the correct aisle. "That way. Unless you want to check the pet food section again."

She gave him a glare that lacked any real heat, and he laughed as he walked beside her.

The fruit section was bright and colorful, with stacks of shiny apples, ripe mangoes, and bundles of bananas neatly arranged. Kendrick expertly grabbed a plastic bag and started inspecting apples like he was performing surgery.

Zephany watched with a raised brow. "You act like the apples are going to file a complaint if you choose wrong."

"They might," he said, picking one up, turning it gently in his hand. "Apples have standards too."

She scoffed but accepted the challenge. "Fine. Show me the apple standard."

He handed one to her. "Firm. No bruises. Good color. And they should smell sweet."

She lifted the apple to her nose, sniffed, then frowned. "I think this one smells like... apple."

Kendrick chuckled. "You’re a natural."

They picked apples, bananas, and oranges. When she reached for a mango, he stopped her gently. "Not that one. It’s overripe. It’ll taste like disappointment."

Zephany blinked. "You’re such a fruit snob."

"Excuse me, I prefer the term ’produce enthusiast.’"

After that, they headed to the next section.

"Do we need the big pack of pasta, or are you planning to feed the whole neighborhood again?" Zephany asked, raising an eyebrow as Kendrick reached for the family-sized spaghetti.

He smirked. "Hey, I like leftovers. Plus, you eat more when you’re happy, and I plan to keep you happy."

She rolled her eyes, but a smile crept onto her face. "Smooth."

In the next aisle, he tossed a box of penne into the cart, then doubled back for linguine. "You never know what mood you’ll be in," he said. "Spaghetti is for comfort. Penne is for a busy week. Linguine is date-night pasta."

Zephany laughed under her breath. "So what’s instant noodles for?"

"Emotional emergencies," he replied without missing a beat.

She nudged him with her shoulder. "You’re ridiculous."

They debated over sauces next. He swore by arrabbiata, while she leaned toward creamy tomato with basil.

"I just think it’s balanced," she said, holding up a jar and inspecting the label. "A little sweet, a little tangy."

Kendrick made a face. "Too safe. Arrabbiata fights back. Like you do."

She gave him a mock glare but couldn’t stop the blush creeping up her neck.

Their cart slowly filled—bags of spinach, fresh basil, a small block of parmesan, cherry tomatoes, and garlic. Kendrick insisted on getting fresh bread from the bakery corner, claiming it "tastes better when it’s still warm and makes the whole kitchen feel like Italy."

Zephany snuck her favorite chocolate-covered biscuits into the cart when he wasn’t looking, only for him to catch her red-handed a minute later.

"I knew it," he grinned. "You always pretend to be healthy until we pass the snack aisle."

She tried to look innocent. "I can stop anytime I want."

"Sure," he said, tossing in a second box. "And I only eat chips on weekends."

They ended up with two types of cereal—his with nuts and dried fruit, hers with marshmallows and too much sugar—and stood way too long in front of the ice cream freezer.

"I’m just saying," Kendrick said seriously, "cookies and cream is objectively the best flavor."

Zephany, arms crossed, challenged him. "Have you even tried coffee crumble?"

He paused, then slowly admitted, "...No. But I’m willing to learn."

She handed him a tub with a victorious grin. "Good. Growth."

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