But she missed her daughter already.
Blake sighed and drove to the grocery store to pick up something to eat. She had food in the house, but was too stressed to do anything about it. A prepared salad with all the fixings as well as a large slice of chocolate cake would make her feel better. At least, the cake would. She tried not to eat too much sugar as she wasn’t twenty anymore and her ass kept growing with each passing month, but her baby was at her first sleepover, and damn it, Blake needed cake.
She got a small cart since she would inevitably find something else she needed in the store, and went to the prepared food section. Since it was after six on a Friday night, the place wasn’t that busy. Most sane people were either at home with their families or eating out for the night. Blake would get her sad little salad, her chocolate cake, and do some laundry that had been piling up. Mrs. Gonzales kept doing her laundry for her, and Blake hated that. So she’d gone to the trouble of hiding her laundry basket in the back of her closet so the older woman wouldn’t work so hard.
So far, the plan had worked, but as the other woman had found the basket in its last hiding place, Blake wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it up. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the woman who had taken Blake and Rowan under her wing, it was more that she didn’t want Mrs. Gonzales to tire herself out. She’d finally retired from the cleaning service she’d worked at for over thirty years, and deserved to take time off.
Of course, Blake wasn’t sure the other woman knew what that meant.
With a sigh, Blake turned the corner toward the salad area and promptly ran into another cart.
“Oh crap, I’m sorry,” she said as she looked up. “You. You have got to be kidding me. Are you following me now?”
Graham blinked at her, and she couldn’t help but like the way his broad shoulders filled out his shirt. The damn man wore a simple white tee with faded jeans and work boots, and yet she wanted to wrap her body around his just to feel him against her. She hated the man.
Okay, not really, but she truly wanted to hate him.
“I’m hungry, Blake. I don’t really care where you shop, but it seems we had the same idea.” He gestured down to the salads. “What kind are you getting?” he asked, and Blake just shook her head at him.
“You really aren’t following me?” Okay, so it sounded a little far-fetched, but she refused to believe she kept running into this man for any other reason. Stubborn, thy name is Blake.
Graham just rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not. I’m hungry after a long day of dealing with inspections, and I didn’t want to cook anything. And while a juicy burger sounds fantastic right now, I’m old and need the fiber.”
Helplessly, she raked her gaze up his body. “Old?”
He licked his lips, and the memory of those lips on hers had her almost squirming. Almost. “Older than you.”
“By like a minute.”
“I see you’re eating a salad, too,” he said after a moment. “Or, at least, were passing the case.”
She shrugged. “My ass is getting big.”
He grinned at her. “Why don’t you turn around and let me see. I’ll let you know.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you flirting with me? I thought we fought with each other.”
“Well, secret Avalanche fan…” he began, and she blushed.
“Sorry about that. I was annoyed with you. And I have to tell you, it hurt me more than you to root for Toronto.”
“You deserved it. And you’re lucky the Avs pulled out a win. Anyway, I guess I am flirting with you. Apparently, I can’t help myself.”
She bit her lip and studied his face. “Do you want to help yourself? I mean…do you want to not flirt with me?”
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I somehow followed that. And I don’t know. I do know that I can’t stop thinking about kissing you again. Even after every single person I know has hassled me over the whole video of it.”
She groaned. “God, I had forgotten about the viral thing for like an hour. I hate the internet.”
“You’re my kind of person,” he said softly before clearing his throat. “Anyway, I don’t know if I want to flirt with you, but I am. And because I am, why don’t you grab a salad with me and we can eat them together on the benches outside. It’s a nice night. Let’s make the most of it.”
She froze. “You want to eat a grocery store salad with me in front of the parking lot?” Not the most romantic thing in the world. Not that she wanted romance.
He shook his head. “I meant the bench on the side of the building that faces the pond and the park. People eat out there all the time. And rather than find a place to eat or figure something else out before we think too hard about it, let’s just do this. See what happens.”
“What if I don’t want to see what happens?”
He studied her face. “Is that the case?”
She let out a little scream and then winced as an older woman glared at her. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I don’t know what I want.”