got a tight smile in return. “Right now, it feels like that can’t happen soon enough, but thank you.”
The family moved on and Nora headed for the fruit. Her empty nest in Atlanta was growing more lonely with every week that passed, and she spent far too much time just rambling around the Ansley Park home. She set a bag of oranges in the cart and tried to shake off her melancholy. No more pity party—she and Becky had big plans for the next few years.
Becky always teased Nora about her penchant for planning and list making, but how else did things get done? Becky wouldn’t be laughing once Nora surprised her with the news that they would be spending three weeks in England next summer. Becky had always been a book lover, and finally she would get to visit all the places she’d dreamed of after reading about Narnia and Camelot and Hogwarts.
It hadn’t been easy squirreling away that money, and without a careful plan and lots of lists, Nora never would have been able to make it happen. But she had enough saved now to give Becky her dream trip. Hopefully it would be the first of many mother-daughter adventures they’d share before Becky settled down and started her own family.
Nora gave the lime in her hand a tight squeeze, trying to quell the whispers of doubt in the back of her mind. She and her daughter hadn’t spoken much lately, just a few texts and emails and the very rare call. Becky kept insisting everything was okay—she was just busy with freshman year. Nora dropped the lime into a bag with five others. She couldn’t shake the suspicion that her daughter was hiding something from her.
A deep voice started cursing behind her as she reached for a bag of lemons. She glanced over her shoulder and spotted a tall, lean man in jeans and a faded flannel shirt. His gray-blue eyes were frosty with anger, but she couldn’t tell where it was directed, since he seemed to be alone.
“Damned idiots. They’re nothing but stupid-ass idiots.” He roughly tossed a bag of apples into his cart, making it rattle, causing a few heads to turn. “Stupid, stupid, stupid...” Another bag of fruit landed in his cart with a bang, and he pushed it closer to hers.
She couldn’t see a Bluetooth device in his ear, so he seemed to be having this conversation with himself. Flat out raging at himself, from the sounds of it. His face was sharp and angled, but the dark stubble along his jaw softened those lines just enough to make him strikingly attractive in a rough-hewn way. Layers of dark brown hair brushed his shoulders, and he reminded her of an aging rock star getting ready to smash a guitar somewhere.
Nora gave herself a mental shake. She hadn’t looked twice at anyone since Paul’s death, much less ogled someone in a small-town grocery store. And this bad-tempered stranger was very much not her type. But still, she couldn’t take her eyes off Hot Produce Guy.
“Can’t believe this stupid bullshit!” He reached for a pint of blueberries, and Nora knew the loose netting over the top of the box wouldn’t be enough to hold them if they were handled roughly. Blueberries were going to fly everywhere if he...
The box hit the bottom of his cart and big, fat berries exploded up out of it, rolling in a hundred directions across the tile floor. People started shouting and dancing around. The little girl who’d been screaming for ice cream a few minutes ago was now gleefully jumping up and down, popping blueberries with her feet like she was making wine. A grumbling murmur rolled through the produce section as people tried to figure out where the berries were coming from.
Hot Produce Guy, oblivious to the chaos he’d created, was clearly having a very bad day, and Nora quickly devised a plan to help him. After all, she was a planner. That was what she did. She tossed her store flyer into his cart, covering the incriminating half-empty container. He looked up sharply, but she lifted a finger to her lips before he spoke. He followed her eyes toward the angry mob looking for a culprit and winced when the little girl leaped on a fat rolling berry.
Nora gave him a wink and gestured with her head. He followed her without a word. They didn’t stop their carts until they were safely in the bakery section. When he turned to face her, she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes, but she was used to that. Some days it seemed everyone on the planet was taller than she was.
“So what was the problem with the angry holiday zombies back there?”
That voice. Gravelly, deep and seriously sexy. Forget his looks, it had been that rough voice spitting out swear words a minute ago that made her breath hitch. That was why she’d rescued him. She shook off her rare case of insta-lust and did her best to look unaffected.
“Someone’s blueberries were causing pandemonium. And you seemed to be having a bad enough day without facing a zombie attack right before Thanksgiving.”
His face reddened. “Calling this a bad day is an understatement.”
“The holidays can be tough. Is there anything I can help with?”
He looked at her in surprise, then shook his head. “My son just told me...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “He did something so stupid I can’t even think straight.” He looked up at the ceiling and heaved a sigh, blinking a few times before looking back at her. His blue eyes softened for a moment so brief she thought she might have imagined it.
“How old is your son?”
“Old enough to know better.”
“I have a teenage daughter, so I can relate. Sometimes we just have to let them learn from their own mistakes. Even when it drives us crazy.”
She thought about how furious she’d been when Becky came home a year ago with that dreadful tattoo on her forearm after spending the summer in Gallant Lake. Nora had nearly had a stroke right there in the airport. It was just a tiny heart-shaped padlock, but still. A tattoo! On her daughter’s perfect alabaster skin! What would people think if they saw it? What if it affected her career? And why a padlock of all things?
“Yeah, well, that sentiment might look nice on a greeting card, but here in the real world that’s not how it works.” The vulnerability was definitely gone from his eyes now. He was angry. With her. “It’s my job to make sure my kids are...” He stuttered and took a breath. “I mean, my kid. I have to make him understand what needs to be done. Whether he likes it or not.”
He gripped the cart so tightly his knuckles were white. Nora prided herself on being able to solve problems, but she was out of her depth dealing with rage this intense. It was time to extricate herself from this conversation with a complete stranger.
“Well...I...I should be going.” She couldn’t help making one last attempt to cheer him up. Becky always called her Little Suzy Sunshine. Nora was never sure if it was a compliment or not. “You know, someday you and your son will look back at this and laugh.” He started to disagree, but she held up her hand. “Our children will always be our children, no matter how old they get.”
“Really? More greeting-card platitudes? I hope you didn’t raise your daughter to believe all that ‘the sun will come out tomorrow’ nonsense. News flash—some children aren’t always our children. Sometimes they...” His mouth was set in a hard line. “Never mind. I don’t know why I’m still standing here talking to you.”
People didn’t usually get under her skin so easily, but this guy had Nora’s temper up in mere minutes. “I’m pretty sure you were going to thank me for helping you.”
He stared at her long enough to make her skin warm.
“I know your type. You’re a fixer.
