"I'm being ridiculous," I say, face heating. “I’ll put some back. I don't need all of this."
He stops me. “You want it. That's reason enough."
You want it. That's reason enough.No one has ever said anything like that to me before.
We move through the store, and I can't stop myself. I add Pop-Tarts. Oreos. Chips Ahoy. Gummy bears. A jar of Nutella that makes me actually gasp when I spot it.
Dante says nothing. Just watches me with an intense, unreadable expression and keeps adding things to the cart.
By the time we reach the snack cakes aisle, I'm practically vibrating with excitement.
There. Right there on the shelf.
Twinkies.
I grab two boxes and clutch them to my chest like treasure.
When I turn around, Dante’s smile nearly takes my breath away. It makes his handsome face look even better.
"Happy?" he asks.
"Yes." The word comes out breathless. “This is...this is the best day I've ever had."
An expression I can’t quite read flickers across his face.
It really is, though. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, because the other shoealwaysdrops.
Then his hand lifts, and his thumb brushes across my cheekbone. Just once. Feather-light.
"Good," he says quietly.
My heart stutters.
We stand in the middle of the grocery store, surrounded by junk food, staring into each other’s eyes. All I can think about is how badly I want him to kiss me. Really kiss me. On the mouth. With tongue. And, for a moment, I think he’s going to…
Until a man rounds the corner into our aisle—middle-aged, balding, wearing a polo shirt that's two sizes too small. His gaze lands on me and lingers. Then travels down my body in a way that makes my skin crawl.
Dante’s entire demeanor shifts. The heat of a moment ago evaporates. His jaw tightens, shoulders square, and he steps between the man and me, blocking his line of sight.
The look he gives the stranger is lethal.
The man pales, mumbles something, and hurries away.
I stare at Dante's back, my pulse racing for an entirely different reason now.
He just...protected me. Without a word. Without hesitation.
"You okay?" he asks without turning around.
"Yes."
He glances over his shoulder, his eyes searching mine. "If anyone makes you uncomfortable, you tell me. Understand?"
I nod, throat tight.
We continue shopping, but now I’m hyperaware that I’m not the only one being noticed. Dante receives glances from passing women. A lot of them.
A blonde in yoga pants does a double-take as she walks past, her eyes raking over him appreciatively.
