even though she’d been careful not to lift anything heavy, her efforts had caused a slight muscle twinge in her lower back.
It was nearly four when she slipped off to The Green Grocer to stock up on all the things she would need to run a household. And when she returned, her car was loaded down with groceries, paper goods and cleaning supplies.
As she slid out from behind the steering wheel, she decided that her back felt better, but it still nagged at her. So she again massaged the pesky muscle. Then she circled the car, opened the trunk and surveyed her many purchases, which had been packed lightly into bright yellow reusable canvas shopping totes with The Green Grocer logo.
Before she could reach inside for the first bag, Hector drove up and parked in his driveway. She waved, and he headed her way.
He was wearing gym shorts and a Harvard Law School T-shirt, which appeared to be damp from a workout. She couldn’t help noting that he was toned and buff. His hair was mussed in an appealing way, and she found it difficult not to stare at him. But she’d already been caught gawking at him once, so she wasn’t about to let him see her doing it again.
“Here,” he said as he approached. “Let me carry those for you.”
She really ought to shoo him off, to tell him she could take in the groceries by herself, yet it was nice that he’d offered to help, and since her back was only feeling marginally better, she decided to take him up on it. “Thanks, Hector. I’d appreciate that.”
“No problem.” He made easy work of the chore, taking several totes at a time, and before she knew it, he’d brought them all into the kitchen and placed them on the table, as well as the countertop.
“You sure have a lot of those reusable shopping bags,” he said.
She’d had to purchase more than she’d probably ever use again, just to restock her pantry and cupboards. “I’ve got a few I can spare, if you would like to have them.”
“I guess it’s better than using the plastic sacks they provide at the store. So, yes, I could probably use one or two.”
“Don’t you recycle?”
“I would, but I don’t do a lot of shopping. I eat most of my meals out.”
Did that translate into: I date a lot? Or did that mean he was so caught up with work at the office and meetings he had to attend that he didn’t have the time or the inclination to prepare meals at home?
Either way, she supposed it wasn’t any of her business.
As she reached into one of the two bags that contained her frozen food, Hector did, too, and their hands grazed each other. She jerked back, more from the sizzle of his touch than the surprise of it.
“Whoops,” he said, tossing her a smile. “It looks like we were both thinking the same thing.”
That the frozen food needed to be put away before it thawed?
Or that that they were fated to catch each other’s eye repeatedly, and drawn to touch?
Hector took several packages of vegetables to the freezer and put them away.
Samantha peeked into yet another tote bag, pulled out a loaf of wheat bread and placed it in the pantry.
After Peter died and she’d gone to stay with her mom, she’d paid someone to go into the kitchen, to empty the cupboards and donate the canned food and the dry goods to a local soup kitchen. So the shelves had been bare for years. But just last week, when the cleaning crew had been here, she’d asked them to wash all the dishes and wipe down the entire kitchen prior to her arrival.
She found herself actually looking forward to filling the shelves. Maybe a growing urge to nest was a side effect of her pregnancy. It made sense.
While closing the pantry door, she stopped to rub the small of her back, which was still a little tender. She suspected her pregnancy and her growing girth made her think about every little ache or pain more than she otherwise might.
Still, in hindsight, she probably should have asked the cleaning crew to pack up Peter’s belongings and haul them all out to the garage, too. But she hadn’t liked the idea of a stranger digging in her closets and drawers and sorting through all of the personal items.
Yet even though the house and furniture were familiar, she felt a little … uneasy about being back on Primrose Lane. So much had changed.
“What’s the matter?” Hector asked.
She offered him an unaffected smile as she removed her hand from her back. “Nothing.”
“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked.
“Not really. I was just shuffling a few boxes earlier and might have strained a muscle. It’s actually feeling better now.”
His expression grew concerned. “You shouldn’t have moved things around in your condition.”
No, she probably shouldn’t have. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“Sit down,” he told her. “I’ll put away the rest of this stuff.”
For some reason, she didn’t object. Instead, she took a seat at the table and watched him put the groceries and cleaning supplies where they belonged, instructing him whenever he asked—and sometimes even when he didn’t. She hated to admit it, but she’d always been a little fussy about her kitchen.
He pulled out a small container of cinnamon, as well as the nutmeg and sea salt, and headed for the pantry.
“No, not in there,” she said. “I put the herbs and spices in the cupboard to the right of the stove. I like having them handy when I cook.”
His movements slowed as he turned to face her, and his head tilted to the side. “You’re not planning to cook tonight, are you?”
“I was. But I’ll probably just fix a bowl of cereal—something light and easy.” She really didn’t need anyone to tell her she might have overdone things earlier today.
“I’ve got an idea.” His eyes, a pretty golden brown shade, brightened, and he tossed her a crooked smile. “I’ll take you out tonight. There’s a new bistro down on the corner of Fourth and Highland that I’ve been meaning to try. And I hate eating alone.”
So he did have a lot of dates. She meant to tell him no thanks, which was the wisest thing to do. Yet she was giving his invitation a lot more thought than she should have. Although that was probably because she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually gone out, been waited on and pampered since her return from Europe.
“Come on,” he said. “You’d like something tastier than cereal tonight, wouldn’t you?”
Actually, she would. But did she really want to have dinner with him again? At a restaurant?
She should have made an excuse, told him that she preferred having a bowl of the Raisin Bran she’d just bought, but for some strange reason—loneliness, boredom or something else altogether?—she agreed. “When do you want to go?”
“I just got
