belly with his hands, his smile broadening. “To make up for long holiday.”
His father was looking at Lucy with admiring eyes and Dom realized he wasn’t going anywhere soon. He might be pushing sixty, but Tony knew a beautiful woman when he saw one and he wasn’t above a little harmless flirtation in his old age.
“Six months in Italy. I can only imagine,” Lucy said, closing her eyes for a beat. “Heaven. The way I’m going, I’ll get over there when I’m ready to retire,” she said.
“Make the time. It’s worth it,” Dom said. “Even if you only go for a few weeks.”
She shrugged, her hair spilling over her shoulder. “Nice idea, but it’s not going to happen,” she said ruefully.
Then she reached for her purse to pay for her order, and her coat fell open.
The words Dom had been about to say died in his throat as he registered the gentle bump that had been hidden by the long lines of her coat.
She was pregnant.
Lucy Basso was pregnant. Which meant she was married. Not free. Not available. And definitely not about to go out with him.
Bad timing again. The worst timing in the world, in fact.
Fifteen years of lust, blown away in a few seconds.
Damn.
CHAPTER TWO
SOMEHOW DOM MANAGED to make coherent conversation for the next few minutes, but his gaze kept dropping to the bump swelling Lucy’s sweater. After a while, she placed a hand there and blushed.
“Starting to show now, I guess,” she said.
“Uh, yeah. When are you due?” he asked.
“Just before Christmas.”
“Wow. I guess your husband must be over the moon,” he said, fishing unashamedly.
Who had she married? How come his mother hadn’t mentioned it in one of her letters to him? He’d gotten updates on every other birth, death or marriage in the neighborhood. Why would she miss Lucy Basso’s?
Lucy tugged her coat closed and slid a button home to keep it that way.
She shrugged casually, as if to say that her husband’s happiness was a given.
“You know, I’d better get going with all of this.” She gestured toward the trolley she’d filled with her supplies for the day.
Dom frowned as he noted several large boxes and bags of produce in her order.
“I’ll give you a hand,” he said, stepping forward.
“It’s okay. I’ve got a hydraulic tailgate in the back of the van,” she explained.
“Right.” He rocked back on his heels.
She was nothing to him, a neighborhood acquaintance and now a customer, but he hated the idea of her lugging groceries around all day when she was four months pregnant.
She laughed, obviously interpreting the look on his face.
“Italian men,” she said, shaking her head. “Honestly, I’m fine. I wouldn’t do anything to put my baby in danger.”
She curved her hand possessively over her bump, and he felt that tight feeling in his gut again.
Forget it, buddy. Forget her. It’s over.
“Okay. If you’re sure,” he said.
“I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow. You, too, Mr. Bianco.”
She smiled once more before pushing her trolley up the aisle.
He wasn’t aware that he was staring after her until his father came and stood next to him.
“Beautiful girl.”
Dom forced a casual shrug. Beautiful, married and pregnant. Not exactly a winning combination.
“Yeah, she’s nice,” he said.
He turned back toward the stand. Ridiculous to feel as though he’d just lost something valuable. For all he knew, she was a ball-breaking shrew with bad breath and a worse temper. There was nothing for him to mourn, no loss had occurred. They barely even knew each other.
He was so absorbed in trying to look busy that he almost missed his father’s next words.
“Such a shame. Her mother very worried, I hear.”
“Worried? Why?” Dom asked. Then his mind jumped to the obvious. “Is there something wrong with the baby?”
He knew what it was like to hope each month for good news, only to learn that once again all the wonders of modern medicine could not make up for the failures of nature. For four years he and Dani had tried in vain to have a baby. He could only imagine how wrenching it would be to have all the joy of finding out you were pregnant, only to learn there was something wrong with your child.
“Something wrong with the baby? How would I know?” his father asked, giving him a look.
Dom returned it in full measure.
“You’re the one who said her mother’s worried. What’s she worried about if it’s not the baby?”
Tony rolled his eyes, then held up his left hand, pointing to his own well-worn wedding ring.
“No husband. Lousy no-good left Lucy for other woman,” he said. He looked like he wanted to spit, the notion offended him so much. “Poor Lucy, she left with business and bambino all on her own.”
Dom stared at his father.
“She’s not married?” he asked, just in case his ears were deceiving him, feeding him what he wanted to hear.
“Didn’t I just say that?” his father asked. Muttering to himself in Italian, he strode off to serve the customer hovering nearby.
Dom stared blankly into space for a few long seconds.
Not married.
Single, in fact.
A smile curved his lips. He even turned on his heel, ready to race after her and ask her out.
He stopped before he’d taken a step.
She was pregnant.
Four months pregnant with another man’s child.
Not exactly your typical dating situation.
“Hey, Dom, those arms of yours painted on?” his uncle Vinnie called from the other end of the stall.
Dom
