had pepperoni.” Simon smiled, dimples flashing, holding up the box. “It’s the large size, but that’s okay. The coupon covers it.”
“Good boy.” She glanced at the price tacked inside the case, but it was hard to concentrate with her heart drumming a thousand beats a second.
“I found a coupon in there for cookie dough.” Simon’s gaze slid sideways to the rolls of premade tubes sitting in bright yellow packages. “It’s okay if we can’t afford it, but they just look good.”
“Yes, they do.” Impulsively she yanked open the door and snagged a roll of chocolate chip, Simon’s favorite. She heard a man’s boots thud nearby, a gait she’d know anytime and anywhere, it was sewn into the fabric of her being.
Hunter. His step hesitated directly behind her. Her blood pressure rocketed into the red zone. He tugged at her like a black hole’s gravitational field—a force she had to resist. Her palms went slick. She slowly set the dough tube in the cart. Maybe if she didn’t make any sudden movements, he wouldn’t look her way. Let him go on with his shopping without noticing her. That way she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye and feel her heart break all over again.
“Mom?” Simon grasped the bar and gave the cart a shove. “What’s next?”
“Uh—” She stared at Hunter’s reflection in the glass refrigerator case. He was tall enough to steal a woman’s breath, well-built in a country sort of way—those were solid muscles beneath his T-shirt. His dark hair, still thick, tumbled over his forehead. Her fingers remembered the silken feel of those locks. If he wasn’t wearing that Stetson, his hair would stick up just a hint at the crown, where a cowlick whirled.
She swallowed hard, feeling a bump against her elbow. Simon. She saw her reflection, too. Not the youthful girl she’d been when Hunter had loved her, when the most handsome man in the county had chosen her as his girlfriend. Time and hardship had worn their way onto her face. Faint creases marked the corners of her eyes, the plane of her forehead and bracketed her mouth. No, she was so not the girl she’d been.
That wasn’t the reason she didn’t answer her son right away. What if the sound of her voice drew Hunter’s attention? She pointed to the dairy case. Simon turned the cart with a rattle and headed toward the egg cartons lined up in the next case over.
There was a thump behind her as something landed in Hunter’s cart. Wheels squeaked and boots knelled on the tile. Thank the heavens above, he walked away in the opposite direction. Thank You, Lord.
Relief blasted through her. She risked a glance over her shoulder just as he turned down the next aisle, his attention on his shopping. Iron jaw, granite features, he’d become a man who looked harder than she’d remembered—the father of her son.
Chapter Two
Guilt wrapped around her as she faced the little boy checking the prices on the various egg cartons.
“This is the best price.” Simon slipped it into the basket. “I got a carton of milk, too. The generic stuff. We don’t have coupons for either of ’em.”
“That’s okay. We need bread and peanut butter next.” And ice cream, she remembered through the rattled terrain her brain had become.
Hunter. She wanted to get a better look at him and see how deep that rock-hardness went. He’d been tough but tender in their teen years, but it looked as though time had hardened him more.
Maybe he was too harsh for anyone to reach. She didn’t have to wonder if he’d married—he’d been very clear on his opinion of matrimony. Nothing but a ball and chain for a man and misery for a woman, he’d told her. There’s not one thing on earth that would ever make me do something that stupid.
Sure, he’d been twenty-two at the time and embittered by his father’s betrayals. She hadn’t seen, until too late, how she’d been attracted to a man similar to her father—too remote and unfeeling to ever soften, a man who became more unreachable as the years went by.
Her heart broke a little walking away.
“Mom.” Simon held up a loaf of bread. “Score.”
“Good job.” She grabbed a pint of ice cream, not bothering to check her coupons.
“Mom?” Simon clunked a jar of peanut butter into the cart. “What else?”
“Crackers.” She plucked several cans of her dad’s favorite soup off the display.
“Roger, captain!” Simon made a jet-engine sound as he spun the cart around and headed off for the saltines at the end of the aisle.
Her mission had changed—to get everything they needed and get out of the store before Hunter recognized her.
“Okay, we’ve got everything, right?” Simon dumped a box in the cart. There wasn’t much there, just enough food to get them by for a couple of days. It would have to do.
“That’s it for this run. Let’s get out of here.” She grabbed the cart by the basket to get Simon moving faster.
“Howdy there,” a friendly older lady Millie didn’t know tossed them a genuine smile from behind her register. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” She unloaded her cart as fast as she could, breathing a sigh of relief when she dropped the last item—the cracker box—onto the conveyer belt. Simon shoved the cart through while she unzipped her purse.
“Did you find everything all right?” The checker scanned in each item with a beep. Her name tag read “Enid.”
“We did.” The familiar beat of cowboy boots on the tile distracted her. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder as Hunter’s quick, no-nonsense cadence knelled louder.
He was coming this way. Panic licked through her. A wheel squeaked as his cart pulled in behind her. Her skin prickled like a storm the instant before lightning struck as Hunter began unloading his cart.
At least he hasn’t recognized me yet. She sorted through her coupon envelope, doing her best not to look. He still smelled the same—like pine, hay and summer sun. Her uncooperative gaze slid sideways to sneak a peek. A black T-shirt hugged his powerful physique that had matured impressively. Muscles rippled as he dumped paper plates, paper towels and hamburger buns onto the conveyer, working fast, concentrating solely on his task. Not a man to look around—the Hunter she’d always known.
“Oh, I have coupons,” she told Enid and handed over the cluster.
“Okay, deary.” The older lady sorted through them before she scanned them in, one by one.
Hunter’s foot tapped impatiently. He’d finished unloading his cart. She could feel him standing behind her, radiating heat and pent-up male energy.
Every breath she took was torture. Knowing Hunter, his mind was probably somewhere else. Maybe he wouldn’t notice her, or—did she dare hope?—recognize her. Was that too much to ask?
“Sorry, deary. This one’s past date.” Enid handed over one of the coupons.
She feared the attention would draw Hunter’s scrutiny. Her hand shook as she took back the coupon.
