“Like what?” Justin asked curiously.
“Well, first off, she doesn’t like questions,” he said with wry amusement. “I suspect it’s because of her upbringing, but she’s a very private person.”
Justin merely nodded at this news and supposed it was good that he hadn’t asked too much then.
“Also, she loves fish, flowers, wine, puppies, kitties, picnics, documentaries, nature shows and anything to do with nature,” Anders added, and then slapped him on the shoulder. “We thought that information might help you out in the wooing department.”
“Yeah. Thanks,” Justin said with a grin. “Thanks a lot.”
“Just helping out a fellow Enforcer,” Anders said with a shrug, and then turned to follow Holly and Decker. Justin hurried after him.
Eight
Holly surveyed the three carts the men were pushing. Each had insisted on grabbing one on the way in. She’d had no idea why at the time, but was beginning to understand. Dear Lord, they were in the last section, produce, and each cart was stacked to overflowing. It was like they were feeding an army instead of three men and two women. They must have half the store in those carts between them, Holly thought. She followed the men, slowing as she realized that they were heading for the checkout after doing nothing more than picking up a bag of potatoes each from produce. No lettuce, no broccoli, nothing at all healthy.
“I don’t know if you guys know this, but a while ago they invented these things called fruits and vegetables,” she said conversationally. When the men all stopped walking and turned to stare at her blankly, she added, “I gather some guy named God came up with them at the beginning of time. You might like to give them a try.”
“Oh,” Justin said finally when the other two remained silent, their gazes shifting over the groceries in their carts. “Well . . . er . . . we’re kind of meat and potato type guys. Potatoes are vegetables,” he added brightly and gestured to his cart as if to show that he’d collected all the vegetables they needed.
“So are broccoli, cauliflower and lettuce,” Holly pointed with amusement.
This time Justin and the other two men exchanged grimaces and glances, before Justin spoke for all three of them again, saying, “Yeah, not so much. I mean sure they are vegetables, but they aren’t real vegetables if you know what I mean.”
“You mean they aren’t manly type vegetables?” she asked, one eyebrow arching and her expression stern.
“Exactly,” he said seeming relieved that she understood. “Potatoes and jalapenos are manly type vegetables. Lettuce and that stuff . . . well . . . they’re more rabbit food . . . don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think,” she assured him and then added, “My James loves all the vegetables and fruits . . . and he seems pretty manly to me.”
For some reason Justin scowled at that and then muttered, “I bet he eats quiche too, huh?”
“Sure,” Holly answered as she snatched up a shopping basket from the end of the nearest checkout.
“Of course he does,” Justin said.
Noting the almost snide tone to his voice, she turned to peer at him curiously. “Is there something wrong with that?”
“Not a thing,” Anders assured her, turning his cart to head back toward the vegetables. “There’s no need for the basket. There is still room in my cart.”
“Yeah, not much though, huh?” Holly said, eyeing his cart dubiously. If she fit more than a tomato onto that stack she’d be surprised. “I think I’ll just hold on to the basket.”
“As you wish,” Anders said mildly, following when she headed back through produce.
“You do realize, Justin, that Holly didn’t understand your reference to real men not eating quiche,” Decker said as he watched Justin turn his cart around. “She’s too young to get it . . . or perhaps it is fairer to say that the reference, like yourself, is too old.”
“I’m not old,” Justin squawked, shocked at the very suggestion. He was the baby of the Enforcers. The young hip one to their grumpy old codgers. He was not old.
“You may not be old in comparison to us, but you’re ancient in comparison to mortals. Old enough to be her great--great grandfather, in fact,” Decker said with obvious enjoyment. “There is a definite generation gap between you two, sonny boy.”
Justin fell into step with Decker as he headed after Holly and Anders, but his mind was now racing as he absorbed the man’s suggestion. Old? Him? He was the young hip one, the one who knew the ways of the world and the women in it. He wasn’t old. Was he? Certainly there was no way he was old enough to be her great--great grandfather, he assured himself and then frowned. Well, okay he was over a hundred while she was maybe twenty--five. So maybe he was a good eighty years older, but . . .