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TK Strand was not a jealous man.
He told himself this every morning. Said it confidently. Believed it for approximately three and a half blissful seconds.
Then the universe would inevitably put Carlos Reyes—beautiful, oblivious, smile-like-sunshine Carlos Reyes—within a five-mile radius of another human being, and suddenly TK was absolutely a jealous man.
Today was one of those days.
They were out grocery shopping. Normal. Calm. In theory.
Carlos was holding a basket and comparing salsa brands, looking like a man deciding national policy. TK was pushing the cart, pretending not to stare and failing spectacularly.
Then it happened.
A stranger—in shorts so small they were probably classified as a safety hazard—walked up to Carlos and said, “Hey, you look familiar. Do you model?”
TK’s soul left his body.
Carlos blinked, polite smile in place. “Uh, no? I’m a cop.”
“Really? Wow, you could totally be in magazines.”
TK rammed the shopping cart into a shelf.
Both Carlos and the stranger jumped.
“Oops,” TK said sweetly, absolutely lying, “my bad. Floors are slippery. Weird how carts just… crash into things.”
Carlos frowned. “Are you okay, babe?”
“Oh, I’m great,” TK said, smiling like a serial killer. “Enjoying the… conversation?”
The stranger stepped back a little, sensing danger like a timid woodland animal.
Carlos, absolutely oblivious, said, “They were just saying I look familiar.”
“Mm-hmm.” TK leaned closer. “Do they now?”
The stranger mumbled something about needing avocados and fled.
Carlos sighed, turning back to TK with a look that said you are ridiculous and I love you but also please behave.
“TK. You scared them.”
“Good,” TK snapped. “They were flirting.”
“They were not.”
“Oh my god,” TK moaned dramatically, “you’re impossible. Do you know how many times people flirt with you? Do you know how many strangers I’ve had to mentally fight off in parking lots?”
Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Mentally?”
“Legally,” TK corrected.
Carlos chuckled and stepped closer, sliding his hands around TK’s waist. “Baby. You know I only want you, right?”
“Yes,” TK muttered. “But also everyone else apparently wants you too, so excuse me if I go a little insane.”
Carlos kissed him—soft, slow, just enough to melt TK’s brain into warm soup.
“Better?”
TK squinted. “A little.”
Carlos kissed him again. “Now?”
“More,” TK demanded.
They kissed until someone pushing a cart politely coughed.
Carlos pulled away, cheeks pink. “We’re in public.”
“Yeah,” TK said, glaring at the aisle around them, “so everyone can see you’re taken.”
Carlos snorted. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
---
Later that night
Carlos was brushing his teeth when TK appeared in the doorway, arms crossed.
“You know,” TK started.
“Oh no,” Carlos said through toothpaste foam.
“I’m not jealous,” TK insisted.
Carlos spit into the sink. “Babe. You threatened a salsa-section stranger with a shopping cart.”
“I accidentally threatened them.”
Carlos walked over and kissed his cheek. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”
TK blinked. “I am?”
“Very.”
TK lit up like someone had plugged him into a wall socket. “Well then,” he said smugly, “prepare to see even more jealousy tomorrow.”
Carlos groaned. “Please don’t.”
TK beamed. “Too late.”
---