“No idea. It’s not like any of you give me any warning.” She wrinkled her nose, but the grumble was half-hearted.
“You need a hand with anything?” he asked.
“Glad you asked.” His mom gave him a smile that suddenly made him scared. So very scared. “I need a few things from the store.”
Having played this game before, he knew a few things most likely meant a dozen, with specific brands. He held out his hand. “Give me the list.”
“And waste paper?” She snorted. “I thought you were about saving the planet?”
“From bad guys.”
“Well, now you can save it from waste and pollution.” Mom whipped out her phone and began typing.
His cell dinged. “I assume that’s the list.”
“Yup. You can take my van.”
“Lucky me.” Because nothing said big, bad, retired military guy like driving a sky-blue minivan with a bumper sticker that said: If you can read this, I hope you have a nice day.
Emasculating.
“You’re welcome. The shopping bins are stacked in the back.”
“Bins? How many groceries we talking about?” He pulled out his phone and tapped, opening the text she’d sent with a link. His eyes widened. “What the ever-loving fuck is this?”
“The grocery list. And because I’m nice, I’ve placed the items in a spreadsheet separated by store, included the aisle, price, and quantity.” The organization took her craziness to a new level.
“Are you sure this is right? It’s massive.” As in might as well just toss a store on top of the van and drive it home big.
“Are you not up to the challenge? Perhaps your little brother is better suited for the task.”
Despite recognizing the insult, he still bristled. Dominick straightened. “I can handle this. It’s just groceries.”
“A few days before Thanksgiving. And you, a rookie.” She shook her head. “Maybe I should go myself.”
He tucked the phone away. “How hard can it be?”
Harder than expected when the cranberry shelf only had two dented cans left, and three people vying for them.
Surely, the can of cherries would suffice. He also didn’t get pumpkin pie filling, and this despite being in his third grocery store.
According to someone who heard him muttering about it, shelves had been harder to keep stocked since the COVID-19 pandemic. Businesses went under. Shipping had slowed.
It might be why he’d gone a little overboard buying boxes of treats at his last stop. In his defense, it was hard to decide. Chocolate cake with vanilla frosting or vanilla cake? What about the one with coconut or the honey-glazed donuts? He bought two of each. By having his own sweets stash, he could avoid getting his hand slapped.
The line to the checkout was a snaking affair with spots marked for social distancing. Most people followed them, but a few crowded. When someone touched the backs of his heels with their cart, he turned and bared his teeth. His ankles didn’t get an apology, but the buggy didn’t hit him again.
As Dominick neared the checkout with his overflowing cart, he saw a woman behind the Plexiglas shield for the cashier. Her dirty-blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her nose and cheeks as freckled as ever.
His heart literally skipped a beat.
“Holy shit, is that you, Anika?”
Her hazel gaze met his, and it took a second and a frown before she muttered, “Dominick?”
“Yeah, from high school. Remember me?”
Her lips quirked. “I do.” Her gaze dropped from his face to his gut, reminding him of the time she’d slugged him. He’d gotten drunk at a party and suggested they have sex. Actually, what he’d said was, “Hey, honey, you look good enough to lick.”
She’d declined. So, he’d doubled down and said, “Well, if I can’t taste you, then feel free to suck me.”
She’d gut-punched him and said, “You’re disgusting.”
Well-deserved. And he’d been contrite when he sobered up. Even tried to make amends. She’d flipped him the bird.
That’d led to him having the biggest crush on her the rest of his time in school. A crush unrequited.
To this day, she didn’t appear impressed. She ignored him as she ran his items over the scanner.
“So, what have you been up to?” he asked.
“Working.”
“Me too. Military.”
“Good for you.” Mumbled without looking up.
A glance at her hand showed no ring, but that didn’t mean shit. “How you been?”
Rather than answer, she kept scanning. Within Dominick, a familiar frustration bubbled. What the fuck was her problem?
“You always this happy, or did I catch you on your period?” Regret hit the moment the words left his mouth.
She cast him a glare. “You always a big jerk, or is this my lucky day?”
“I wouldn’t be a jerk if you weren’t being a bitch.”
Uh-oh.
Her gaze narrowed. “Wow, with a shining personality like yours, it must cost you a fortune to convince hookers to date you.”
His jaw dropped, and in that moment, something odd happened.
The rage within flipped to lust. Which led to him saying, “A thousand bucks for the night. I’ll even pay for the room.”
2
Did he just—?
No.
He didn’t.
Fucker, he did.
“I am not a whore,” she snapped.
“Never said you were.”
“You just offered me money to have sex,” she hissed.
“I take it that’s a no?”
If it hadn’t been for the Plexiglas shield, she would have slapped him.
“You’re disgusting.”
“You were the one saying I had to buy it.”
“Because I have a hard time believing you could be charming enough to convince anyone to go on a date with you.” Not entirely the truth. He was handsome enough that many women would likely ignore his misogynistic mouth. Not her, though.
“I don’t need to be charming, I’m big.” He puffed out his chest.
She blinked at his arrogance. “Then go on a diet.”
He stared at her. “I am not fat.”
“You’re the one who said you were big.” She should have stuck to being quiet, but nope, she just had to rise to his goading.
“I meant it as in big where it counts. You know. Down there.”
“I know what you meant, and I still can’t believe you said it. Like, seriously? What part of not interested do you not understand?” Men could be absolute pigs, and she’d know. They seemed to think that just because she worked behind the conveyor belt, they could say anything they wanted to her.
He blustered. “What is your problem with me?”
“I haven’t seen you in nearly two decades, and you think offering me money to whore myself and telling me you have a big dick the first time we talk is appropriate?” She arched a brow. “Guess again.” She kept scanning his snack food. Box after box.
Despite her calling him overweight, she could tell—even with his loose, plaid shirt—he was actually in pretty good shape. Must be nice to be able to eat whatever you liked. Anika struggled with her weight, and even though she kept to a strict diet and exercise regimen, she’d never be petite.