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 the remaining items and packed them into the box.
Sara had her credit card ready when the older man gave her the total.
Mr. Stein lifted a corner of the box, testing the weight. “Sara,” he said, “how are you going to carry all of this to the restaurant? You have a cab waiting?”
Dom coughed. Or laughed, it didn’t matter.
She slid in her credit card with the utmost lack of concern. “Why should I do that when I’ve got free labor?” She inclined her head at Dom, without so much as a glance.
Mr. Stein looked over at him. “He’s going to ruin his good shirt.”
“I’m sure he has more.”
No mistaking Dom’s laugh this time.
Finally, after she signed the chip machine, she looked at him and smiled. “Although I’ll understand if you need to pass. I’m sure it’s pretty heavy.”
Okay, she deserved the eye roll. When he actually lifted the box, her gaze went straight to his biceps, and she had to swallow real quick, because yes, the guy really did work out. Shit. He’d always had a good body, but now he was even sleeker with broad shoulders and narrow hips.
Aware she was staring, she grabbed the canvas bag. With an amused gleam in his eyes, Mr. Stein glanced from her to Dom, then held out the paper sack for her.
“Lead on, Macduff,” Dom said.
Sara opened her mouth, but before she could correct him, he said, “Yeah, I know it’s not the original quote, but it was fun watching your nose twitch.”
“It did not,” she said, shifting the bag in her right arm to a more comfortable position. “Besides, I was going to say I was joking. I can take a cab if you would just help me get the box—”
He laughed and walked out of the store.
She had little choice but to catch up with him.
This whole thing had slipped out of her control. Not in a terrible way, but she most definitely wasn’t in her comfort zone. “I thought you had to be somewhere,” she said, as they stopped at the corner of Prince Street.
“I do, but not until my one-thirty interview.”
“What for?”
“A public relations firm. Oh, and I need to get a trim,” he said, straining to get a look at his watch. “Gotta make a good impression.”
“I think you’re going to do fine in that department,” she said, as they reached the end of the block. Any PR firm in the country would be nuts not to hire Dom on the spot.
“Hey, was that a compliment?” Dom said. “Better be careful—you don’t want me getting a big head.”
“Too late for that.”
Dom waited until she met his gaze. “Was that nice?”
His eyes weren’t as dark with the morning sunlight bringing out tiny gold flecks. But they were still warm and full of life. She remembered him smiling a lot as a kid. Though why not? He’d had it made even before he’d uttered his first word.
Something else she noticed—he wasn’t smiling now.
“I was joking,” she muttered and started to cross the street.
A loud honk nearly shattered her eardrums. She’d almost walked right into a passing cab.
She stepped back onto the sidewalk, grateful she hadn’t dropped the bags.
“Do me a favor,” Dom said.
“What’s that?” Reluctantly, she looked at him.
“Get that for me.” With a jut of his chin, he glanced up.
A lock of dark hair had fallen across his forehead.
Oh, God.
“What do you want me to do with it?”
“Just push it back.” He frowned at her as if she was being a twit, which she totally deserved. “Here, give me one of those.”
“It’s okay. I got it.” She shifted the bags until she had a free hand, at least for a few seconds, and swept back the dark silky strands.
She was touching Dominic Paladino’s hair. With all the aplomb of a geeky, awkward fifteen-year-old.
The stubborn lock fell forward again.
“Don’t be so gentle. Just push it all the way back.” He ducked so she could reach the top of his head, and she combed his hair straight back until her fingers were buried completely in the thick mane.
“You should put some stuff in it,” she murmured, their faces so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. “You know, to keep it in place.”
“Like a gel?” He straightened, frowning, and her hand fell away. Just as the bag cradled by her left arm almost did. “Nope. Never gonna happen. I just need a trim.”
Foot traffic had picked up in the last few minutes, probably because it was close to lunchtime. And while they weren’t blocking the sidewalk, several people sighed dramatically as they skirted them. Others smiled and said hello to Dom.
Sara gasped. Lunchtime!
She glanced at Dom’s slim gold watch. “Shit.”
“What?”
“I need to hurry. The lunch crowd will be coming in soon.” She was already on the move, and Dom had no trouble keeping up with her.
When they turned the corner, she spotted the Spicy Meatball food truck parked almost directly in front of Morretti’s. Her blood pressure shot through the roof, and before she knew it she was holding on to her bags for dear life and rushing toward the interlopers.
“Hey, Sara. Wait.”
She heard Dom, but she didn’t have time to stop and
