thing, since Dom had a full day. He needed to stop by the office and have a look at the blueprints for the SoHo apartment complex. Hopefully Luca would be there and they could go over the plans for Tony’s bachelor party. Then Dom had an appointment for a trim before his interview at Edelman PR, which he was looking forward to. The great thing about working at such a large firm was that they had offices all over the world. The downside? He’d be a small cog in a huge machine.
Half a block ahead of him, he noticed a dark-haired woman wearing jeans and a tucked-in T-shirt. It took all of a second to be certain it was Sara. He’d memorized that curvy behind.
He noticed the canvas bag she was carrying and had a hunch she was going to the same place he was headed—Met Foods. Walking faster, he made sure he didn’t get too close. It would be a shame to let this opportunity pass him by. She still owed him an answer, and while she’d dodged him the other night, he wasn’t going to be so quick to let her off the hook this time. Two minutes later he followed her into the store.
After grabbing a bottle of water and a pack of breath mints, he scoped out a couple of aisles before spotting her in the produce section. He planted himself across from her and tried to look engrossed in the nectarines.
“Stalking me now?”
He looked up, pretended to be surprised and said, “Hey.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Um...the same thing you’re doing?”
The way she looked at him was like being x-rayed at LaGuardia. She was probably deciding what to say to make a quick escape. Then a glance at his selections made her laugh. “Water and breath mints. I’m actually surprised you don’t have cases of mints on hand at all times.”
“Meaning?”
“I think you know.” Her voice was like rich honey, easy, flowing, made even sweeter by the sly smile that turned up the edges of her lips.
“Dominic?”
The voice came from behind him. Definitely feminine, not completely familiar. Turning, it took him a second to realize it was Danielle Orteaga, a thirtysomething woman he’d met a few times at his gym. She was in great shape, pretty, not afraid to ask for what she wanted. And she was married. Which was enough for Dom to keep her at arm’s length. He nodded at her with a noncommittal smile and turned right back to Sara.
“Well, I better get busy so I can make it to the restaurant before the lunch rush,” she said.
The drop in temperature only made Dom more determined not to let this serendipitous meeting go to waste. But if he just came out and asked her what he’d done to piss her off, she’d be gone before he could take a second breath. He went around to her side before she could get away and looked in her cart. “So this stuff is all for pizza?”
“And the pasta dishes. Salads. Appetizers. Come on, you know our menu better than I do.”
“It threw me when I didn’t see any pineapples.”
That made her smile change. No trace of sarcasm, which he considered a victory. He wasn’t even sure why he was trying so hard. She was hot, of course she was, but if that was all it took, he’d have actually lived up to his reputation.
Sara pushed her cart over to the lettuces, several of which she carefully selected, then on to the radishes. He trailed along, not even trying to make up an excuse, although with everything she had in that cart, he wondered if she’d have to take a taxi back to Moretti’s.
Britney Addleson, one of the waitresses from the diner near his apartment, stopped him midstride with a hand on his chest. The move surprised him—it was more forward than he appreciated—but he happened to catch Sara’s reaction, and okay, it was worth the intrusion to see that spark of outrage.
“I didn’t know you came to this store,” Britney said, making sure he was aware of her prominent breasts, snug in her white T-shirt.
“I was just passing by. I have to be at the office in about ten minutes, so I’m going to have to get a move on or be late. See you at the diner.”
Britney’s shocked expression wasn’t satisfying, except that it let him extricate himself without doing too much damage. It wasn’t a surprise to see her blush and walk away. The clock, though, had been ticking this whole time, and he couldn’t wait much longer to choose his endgame. Confrontation? Or gentle persuasion?
* * *
WHY SARA WAS taken aback by the women so blatantly flirting with Dom made zero sense. This was a pattern she’d seen for years, up to and including her own sister.
Just because Sara had hidden her crush successfully didn’t mean she was guilt free. Of course, all she’d gotten for her efforts was lethal doses of private and public humiliation. Hard to forget that, even when the conversation seemed so easy between them. Beneath that suave visage, she knew he still had questions, and until she answered him or convinced him the past didn’t matter, he’d wear her down. And how she could equate that to sex and be thrilled about it was just plain sick.
For now, though, the smart move was to keep shopping, pretend he wasn’t even there. Right behind her. So close that she was feeling slightly giddy. Without a glance his way, she continued going up and down aisles, adding to her cart.
Of course she couldn’t help noticing that he looked great. Slim dark dress slacks, a tailored shirt that showed off his physique and what looked like a silk tie. He seemed taller, broader, just since the other night, which told her she’d better get her feet planted and her head out of the clouds.
Sara hadn’t realized she’d stopped until he almost rammed into her from behind.
She grabbed the first thing she saw—a can of olives.
“I’m surprised you don’t buy that sort of thing in bulk,” Dom said.
“Thanks for your concern. I’m shopping for the house, too.”
“Ah.”
“Why are you still here?”
“Am I making you nervous?” He flashed a smile. “I apologize,” he said, taking a step back.
“Make me nervous?” she said with a snort. “I figured you’d go trailing after one of your girlfriends.”
“You must have me confused with someone else. No girlfriend.”
“Well, whatever you call it,” she muttered, and swung around to the next aisle.
He switched to walking beside her. “It?”
Sara sighed loudly and tried not to let his pleasant masculine scent distract her.
“There is one way to get rid of me.”
“Yeah? Name it.” She bit down on her lip. He’d baited her, and she’d snapped at it. No doubt he was waiting with a smile. She’d be damned if she’d look.
Oh, hell, she should just let him ask his question. Get the whole thing over with.
Somehow her cart headed straight for the checkout. Without any prompting from her. She insisted he go through first. Before she could sigh with relief, he paid for his water and mints and waited at the end of the counter.
Until she started unloading, she hadn’t realized she’d overbought by quite so much. She stared at the groceries, trying to think of an elegant way to tell Mr. Stein she wanted to put half of it back. No dice. She was stuck with all of it.
None of it was stupid stuff. Just more than they needed. She’d never be able to walk it all to the restaurant, and she hated spending money on a cab when she should have had two bags, max.
Mr. Stein had already filled her canvas bag and another larger, paper one, and he stared over the top of his thick black-framed glasses at the groceries he had yet to ring up. Bending over slowly, he brought a large box out from under the counter. He scanned