“There’s nothing to worry about.” Jaye slid out of his warm grip and slid a finger along the furry hood of a purple parka. “David doesn’t have a bone to pick with you.”
“Yes, he does. He’ll have a major problem with me when he realizes I’m his competition. Won’t take him long to figure that out. I can’t drag my gaze off you. Even Freddie and Phil noticed.” With a clench of his jaw, he browsed through the coats hanging from a nearby rack.
Jaye pocketed her hands, wishing she hadn’t heard him admit he couldn’t stop looking at her. Compliments always preceded a request for money, for time, for favors. For a brittle instant, she wondered what he’d ask for. A queasy unease trickled into her stomach. Had Mitch discovered who she really was?
He pulled a parka off the rack. “This’ll work. It’s thick enough to keep you warm and long enough to cover your hips.” His gaze landed on her thighs and blazed a trail to her face. A red flush crept up his stout neck. “The brown color goes with your eyes. Like chocolate.”
Was he complementing her to butter her up? After enduring her ex’s empty flattery, she couldn’t take any more. “What do you want? Just tell me.”
“I want you to smile again.” The corners of his eyes tightened. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m willing to earn everything I want from you.”
The ragged edges of the wound inside her healed a little bit. For the first time in ages, Jaye knew fact from fiction. “If I had to pick who is the better man, I guarantee David doesn’t stand a chance against you.”
With a feral smile, Mitch shouldered his way through the sea of puffy coats. “If you keep saying stuff like that, you’ll discover I don’t mind kissing my girl in the middle of a crowded store.”
“You can’t do that. We’re in the middle of a fight.” Fighting the ridiculous urge to giggle, she backed away from the determined man striding toward her. Bloated ski jackets stopped her retreat. A plastic hanger dug into her back. “Cold silence is more appropriate during an argument. No eye contact. Muttering is acceptable.” She should know. These behaviors formed the bedrock of her parents’ marriage. “No kissing.”
“Honey, I’m gonna kiss you all the time. Even when we disagree.”
His warm mouth covered hers. The passionate kiss contained a hint of basil from the hoagie he’d wolfed down at the deli. Tempted to wolf him down, Jaye kissed him back until she was breathing harder than she did during her morning runs.
He rested his nose beside hers. “That’s how you and I are going to fight, pixie.”
Drifting a soft caress across his jaw, she glowered. “You glassblowers don’t fight fair.”
“Darned right.” He nudged the parka into her arms. “Hold this so I can grab a couple of things on the way out.”
She hugged the coat and trailed behind him, admiring the way his backside looked in a pair of smoke-stained jeans.
He snatched a pair of mittens, draped a black scarf over her shoulder, and tucked a Buffalo Bills sweatshirt under his arm.
She laughed. “That had better be for you. No self-respecting Patriots fan would wear a piece of clothing decorated with a blue buffalo.”
“When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” Mitch placed their things on a cashier’s conveyor belt and gave Jaye a stern look. “Put away your wallet.”
“But—”
“This isn’t negotiable. I’m buying.”
Even though she had plenty of money, she silenced her protest. Tucking her wallet into her purse, she couldn’t remember the last time someone bought her something. “Thank you, Mitch.”
“You’re welcome.” He jerked his chin toward the big bags stacked by the doors. “If you’ll carry your stuff, I’ll grab the rock salt.”
She gathered their shopping bags and followed him to the door. “Wait, Mitch. The rock salt weighs fifty pounds. Shouldn’t we get a cart?”
“Nah.” He hefted the bag of rock salt on his shoulder and gestured toward the door. “After you.”
He carried the rock salt into the parking lot like the bag weighed little more than a five-pound sack of flour. Jaye had heard of the term country strong, but never witnessed it firsthand. Impressive. This brawny glassblower was full of fascinating contradictions—able to lug heavy rock salt like a world-class body builder yet capable of plucking a small winter wardrobe out of tangled clothing racks with the skill of a gum-snapping teenaged girl. She grinned upward. “You definitely are an enigma.”
“How?”
“You managed to get everything we needed in less than twenty minutes. Your bachelorhood will be short-lived if the women around here discover you can shop.”
“I have no intention of telling them.” He hoisted the heavy bag of rock salt into the back of his truck and dug a pocketknife out of his jeans. “Put on your coat. I’ll cut off the tags.”
She tossed the shopping bags into the truck’s cab and slid her arms into the coat. Snow drifted down from the sky and landed on her sleeve. “You got me a warm coat just in time. Thanks, Mitch.”
“Thank me by not telling any single women you saw plenty when you studied the picture of me streaking.” He zipped her up with a teasing grin. “If they ever hear about my physique, I’ll never have a moment’s peace.”
“Don’t you want scads of women clamoring for your attention?”
“No, because they’d all want me to talk about my feelings. I’ll pass.”
“Perhaps we should buy you a leftover Halloween costume so you can walk around in disguise.” Jaye sized him up with a speculative frown. “I think I saw a cheerleader’s outfit and a vampire’s cape in the store. Either one will work.”
“I’ll take the cape.” He grabbed her around the waist, burrowing his face into her
