by Eve Langlais
“Are you sure this is right? It’s massive.” As in might as well just toss a store on top of the van and drive it home big.
“Are you not up to the challenge? Perhaps your little brother is better suited for the task.”
Despite recognizing the insult, he still bristled. Dominick straightened. “I can handle this. It’s just groceries.”
“A few days before Thanksgiving. And you, a rookie.” She shook her head. “Maybe I should go myself.”
He tucked the phone away. “How hard can it be?”
Harder than expected when the cranberry shelf only had two dented cans left, and three people vying for them.
Surely, the can of cherries would suffice. He also didn’t get pumpkin pie filling, and this despite being in his third grocery store.
According to someone who heard him muttering about it, shelves had been harder to keep stocked since the COVID-19 pandemic. Businesses went under. Shipping had slowed.
It might be why he’d gone a little overboard buying boxes of treats at his last stop. In his defense, it was hard to decide. Chocolate cake with vanilla frosting or vanilla cake? What about the one with coconut or the honey-glazed donuts? He bought two of each. By having his own sweets stash, he could avoid getting his hand slapped.
The line to the checkout was a snaking affair with spots marked for social distancing. Most people followed them, but a few crowded. When someone touched the backs of his heels with their cart, he turned and bared his teeth. His ankles didn’t get an apology, but the buggy didn’t hit him again.
As Dominick neared the checkout with his overflowing cart, he saw a woman behind the Plexiglas shield for the cashier. Her dirty-blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her nose and cheeks as freckled as ever.
His heart literally skipped a beat.
“Holy shit, is that you, Anika?”
Her hazel gaze met his, and it took a second and a frown before she muttered, “Dominick?”
“Yeah, from high school. Remember me?”
Her lips quirked. “I do.” Her gaze dropped from his face to his gut, reminding him of the time she’d slugged him. He’d gotten drunk at a party and suggested they have sex. Actually, what he’d said was, “Hey, honey, you look good enough to lick.”
She’d declined. So, he’d doubled down and said, “Well, if I can’t taste you, then feel free to suck me.”
She’d gut-punched him and said, “You’re disgusting.”
Well-deserved. And he’d been contrite when he sobered up. Even tried to make amends. She’d flipped him the bird.
That’d led to him having the biggest crush on her the rest of his time in school. A crush unrequited.
To this day, she didn’t appear impressed. She ignored him as she ran his items over the scanner.
“So, what have you been up to?” he asked.
“Working.”
“Me too. Military.”
“Good for you.” Mumbled without looking up.
A glance at her hand showed no ring, but that didn’t mean shit. “How you been?”
Rather than answer, she kept scanning. Within Dominick, a familiar frustration bubbled. What the fuck was her problem?
“You always this happy, or did I catch you on your period?” Regret hit the moment the words left his mouth.
She cast him a glare. “You always a big jerk, or is this my lucky day?”
“I wouldn’t be a jerk if you weren’t being a bitch.”
Uh-oh.
Her gaze narrowed. “Wow, with a shining personality like yours, it must cost you a fortune to convince hookers to date you.”
His jaw dropped, and in that moment, something odd happened.
The rage within flipped to lust. Which led to him saying, “A thousand bucks for the night. I’ll even pay for the room.”
2
Did he just—?
No.
He didn’t.
Fucker, he did.
“I am not a whore,” she snapped.
“Never said you were.”
“You just offered me money to have sex,” she hissed.
“I take it that’s a no?”
If it hadn’t been for the Plexiglas shield, she would have slapped him.
“You’re disgusting.”
“You were the one saying I had to buy it.”
“Because I have a hard time believing you could be charming enough to convince anyone to go on a date with you.” Not entirely the truth. He was handsome enough that many women would likely ignore his misogynistic mouth. Not her, though.
“I don’t need to be charming, I’m big.” He puffed out his chest.
She blinked at his arrogance. “Then go on a diet.”
He stared at her. “I am not fat.”
“You’re the one who said you were big.” She should have stuck to being quiet, but nope, she just had to rise to his goading.
“I meant it as in big where it counts. You know. Down there.”
“I know what you meant, and I still can’t believe you said it. Like, seriously? What part of not interested do you not understand?” Men could be absolute pigs, and she’d know. They seemed to think that just because she worked behind the conveyor belt, they could say anything they wanted to her.
He blustered. “What is your problem with me?”
“I haven’t seen you in nearly two decades, and you think offering me money to whore myself and telling me you have a big dick the first time we talk is appropriate?” She arched a brow. “Guess again.” She kept scanning his snack food. Box after box.
Despite her calling him overweight, she could tell—even with his loose, plaid shirt—he was actually in pretty good shape. Must be nice to be able to eat whatever you liked. Anika struggled with her weight, and even though she kept to a strict diet and exercise regimen, she’d never be petite.
But some people didn’t grasp that. She’d been subjected to: “Do you really need that second helping? Perhaps you should skip dessert” her entire life.
Maybe people should mind their own fucking business. She was big-boned, which meant wider and thicker than some girls. But she wasn’t fat. She exercised every day. Her stomach was flat, her arms and legs strong.
“Sorry if I offended you.” Stiffly said. Not sincere at all.
She snorted. “As if I care. Do you know how many guys think it’s okay to say stuff like that to me? And don’t get me started on the women.”
“If you don’t like the job, then change it.”
Her spine straightened. “Excuse me, don’t you dare put me and what pays my bills down.”
His mouth rounded. “You were just saying people were mean to you.”
She angry-bagged his items. “To make a point that I’m used to jerks like you coming in here and thinking you can talk to me any way you like. And it’s not okay. Do you hear me? Not. Okay.”
“Um, Anika, can I have a word?” She whirled to see Darryl, the store manager, standing at the end of her register.
“Oh, shit,” she muttered.
“It’s okay, we know each other,” Dominick stated to her manager.
“Actually, it’s not,” Darryl said firmly. He was only a few years out of high school and trying hard not to look intimidated by the big guy he confronted.
“And I say it is. I said something rude to her, and she rightly called me on it.” Dominick loomed over the guy. “So, don’t you dare fire her.”
Darryl almost smirked before catching himself. “I’m not firing her, sir. I was removing her from an unsafe situation. Mainly, you.”
Dominick’s gaze widened. “I’m not threatening her.”
“You’re being disrespectful to an employee, and we don’t allow that. Please leave.”
“I will once I pay for my groceries,” Dominick stated.
“Now.” Darryl might have tiny balls, but they were full of courage.
“I can’t leave now. My mom needs this shit.” Dominick pulled out his credit card. “I swear I’l
l behave.”
“It’s okay, Darryl. Let the guy buy his snack cakes,” Anika jumped in.
When her manager would have likely insisted, Anika kept scanning items and finishing Dominick’s order. “That’s two hundred and twenty-two dollars and eighty-four cents.”
He blinked. “For cake?”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Until recently, I was eating in mess halls or restaurants. At home, food usually just appears on a plate.”
She rolled her eyes. “Spoiled.”
“I don’t know if I’d say that. I spent six months in the desert sucking the moisture from plants and eating what rodents and insects I could catch.”
“Why?” she couldn’t help but blurt out.
“My mission got sidetracked. It took a while for extraction.”
“I meant why serve in the military if it’s that awful?” she asked as the receipt spit out, his credit card having worked.
“Because I was good at it.”
“Was? Did you retire?”
“I did.”
“So, you’re here for a visit?” She couldn’t have said why she asked—as if she cared what his jerk ass did.
“Not sure yet what my plan is. Still adjusting to civilian life.”
Rather than snort and tell him that he needed to work a heck of a lot more and harder on it, she said, “Good luck with that. Have a good day.” She turned from him and began greeting her next customer, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Hey, I don’t suppose you’d like to go to dinner or grab a coffee sometime?”
She laughed so hard she snorted.
“Is that a no?” he asked.
“It’s a never.” Because the last thing she needed was to date some guy who thought women should serve. She’d done that once before and ended up in divorce court with everything, including the dog, taken from her. So unfair given Thomas stopped working a few months into their marriage. Everything they’d had was because of her, but the law gave him half. Plus, she got stuck paying the lawyer fees, leaving her with nothing. Not even the ability to work in her field because the prick filed a false complaint and she lost her dental hygienist’s license.
Now, she worked at a grocery store, lived in a shitty apartment with secondhand crap, hadn’t dated in two years, and her vibrator had broken from too much use and she couldn’t afford to replace it.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so rash with Dominick.
Didn’t some fetish exist where the guy had his mouth taped shut? If he didn’t speak, she could just use him for sex.
Ha.
The very idea.
She might be many things but a girl who slept around for the sake of lust wasn’t one of them. She might have been burned once, but she still believed in love.
And she’d promised herself to always demand respect.
3
That didn’t go well.
As he loaded the grocery bins into the van, Dominick pondered the many ways the conversation with Anika had gone wrong.
So wrong. No wonder she’d shot him down.
In his defense, she addled his wits.
Meeting Anika proved to be a punch to the gut. For one, she remained as attractive as ever with her curvy frame. While some liked their women thin, Dominick had always been more attracted to bigger girls. The kind that could handle a large guy like him. Something to grab on to.
The second thing that hit him hard was just how strongly the lust hit at the sight of her. Blame the blood leaving his brain, headed for his dick that led to the supremely stupid shit he’d said to her.
But she bore some of the blame. From the beginning, even though he’d been nice, she’d acted snootily. Like she was better than him.
Her loss. Plenty of other women out there that wouldn’t mind a retired military guy with a decent pension. Once he got a job, he’d have even more to offer.
Arriving home, Dominick began pulling out his stash. As he brought it in, he ran into his little brother Tyson, whose eyes widened.
“What did you do?” the boy breathed. He’d chosen to shave his wiry hair short on the sides but had left it thick and teased on top.
“Got groceries like Mom asked.”
Tyson pointed at the boxes peeking from a grocery bin. “That’s junk food.”
“I know. I bought it.”
“But Nana says we can’t have it.” Tyson shook his head. The boy had decided once he hit his teens that he was too mature to call her Mom.
“It’s no different than the cakes and cookies she makes. This will save her some work.” And keep him from getting slapped when the hunger hit.
Tyson backed away. “She’s gonna kill you.”
Actually, she did worse than that. Mom saw the goods as he put them in the pantry.
Her lips wobbled, and she wailed, “Is my baking that bad?”
Dominick shook a box at her. “You know I love your shit. But you are supposed to be taking it easy.” He pointed to her leg. “Sit. Relax. I got the dessert part covered.”
His mom shuddered. “That is not dessert. It’s processed poison. Is this what you’ve been eating while you’ve been away from home?”
“Maybe,” he hedged.
“I blame myself. I must have gone wrong somewhere with you.” She could be dramatic when needed.
“You raised me just fine.”
“Did I? Because you’re the oldest and still unmarried.” She eyed him.
“I haven’t had time to date much.”
“That was before. You’re out of the military now. So, what is your plan?”
He blinked. “I need a plan?”
“You’re not getting any younger, Dom.” She patted his cheek.
“I’m only thirty-seven.”
“Only? If you want to be able to keep up with toddlers, you’d better get working on an heir.”
“Why are you bugging me? I just got home. Bug Stefan or Raymond. What about Pammy?” He couldn’t explain to his mom that he worried his rage would worsen. Look at his reaction with Anika today. He’d rather die than hurt a kid.
“Don’t deflect. It’s time you settled down. Which is why I’ve invited someone to dinner. She’s very nice. A few years younger than you. Healthy.”
“She sounds like a broodmare.”
“Nothing wrong with choosing a healthy partner to bear your babies.”
Dominick groaned. “Must you say the word babies?”
“Yes, because someone needs to give me some!” She flung out her arms and stalked away. He couldn’t help but follow, peeling the wrapper from a treat.
She whirled and visibly shuddered at the sight of him. “Garbage. Ugh.”
Worst part? He agreed. Her cakes and icings were much tastier.
“Who is this woman that will wow me with her genetics?” he asked, leaning against the counter as Mom opened the oven to baste the row of chickens.
“You’ll see.”
He did. A lovely lady, thirty-one, never married but who had been in a serious relationship for years. She had excellent manners. A tiny laugh. Pretty hair. And a slim figure.
Too slim.
He couldn’t help but think of Anika.
“Are you thinking of food again?” his mother asked as what’s her name went to the bathroom.
“Not exactly.” However, he would eat Anika in a heartbeat if she gave him permission.
After a perfectly fine dessert, where what’s-her-name dazzled with her boringness, he finally saw her to the door and sighed as it shut.
His mom glared at him. “What was wrong with Veronica?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“Then why don’t you like her?”
“She’s not the one.”
“Don’t tell me you suddenly believe in love?” Mom snorted.
“Would you really want me to make a baby with a stranger, or someone I connect with?”
She pursed her lips. “You had thirty-seven years to connect. Now it’s my
turn.”
He sighed. “It’s not that easy.”
“Says you.”
She didn’t understand the turmoil within him. Could he really saddle anyone with that?
“I need to go for a walk and work off that excellent dinner.” He patted his stomach. Hard. Not fat. Still, he couldn’t forget what Anika had implied. “Do I look chubby to you?”
The snort Mom uttered acted as a reply. He went for a jog nonetheless and travelled far enough that he passed by the grocery store, still open with a single cashier inside.
Anika.
Working late.
He’d planned to do a few more kilometers before returning home. Instead, he turned around and came back, bouncing on the balls of his feet in place as he drew up level with the grocery store. He was just in time to see Anika walking to a lone car at the far end of the parking lot.
She had her head ducked and hands shoved into her pockets, seemingly unaware of the space around her, thus never seeing the gang of boys that approached.
Or did she? He noticed her stiffen, and she whirled before they got close enough to grab her.
“I have nothing,” she declared preemptively. “Unless you want a piece-of-shit car that only runs half the time.”
The thugs spread out, and the guy with the leather jacket cajoled. “Keep your bucket of rust. I’m more interested in your mouth, slut.”
The second of his buddies guffawed, while the third grabbed at his crotch and thrust his hips.
Rude motherfuckers.
Dominick had seen enough. He began walking toward the group, even as Anika faced off with them.
“Hey, assholes, did your father not teach you to respect a lady?” Dominick spoke loudly enough for them to hear.
Two of them whirled. The one with a tattoo above his brow sneered. “Mind your fuckin’ business.”
“She is my business.” He stopped and hooked his thumbs through the belt loops in his pants.
“I don’t need your help,” Anika muttered.
“You heard the bitch. She don’t need—argh!”
On hearing the word bitch, Dominick moved and had the tattooed fellow in a headlock as he growled, “Do not call her a bitch. She is a lady, you fucking punk.”