Page 20 of Falling for the Grumpiest Protector

He grins. “Then we should get them.”

“Thank you for your expert analysis.”

“You’re welcome.”

I glance at the stand again and tell myself this has absolutely nothing to do with Javier Martinez. Mom sent me here for tomatoes, basil, green beans, and maybe squash. I intend to return with groceries.

I turn around, and Noah follows.

Javier is helping an older couple choose peppers, which gives me approximately thirty seconds to reconsider this entire decision. I don't. Because tomatoes.

By the time we reach the stand, the couple is walking away with two bulging paper bags. Javier looks up. His eyes find mine. There it is again. That almost-smile.

"You again."

"I'm a potential customer. That's rude."

"I thought you were leaving."

"I was."

"What happened?"

"We need tomatoes."

He glances at the display between us. "Good place to find them."

I give him a look.

"Do you work at being irritating, or does it come naturally?"

"Years of practice."

I refuse to smile. Instead, I pick up one of the tomatoes.

"Six of these."

He reaches for a paper bag.

"And basil."

Another bag.

"Green beans too."

He looks at me.

"Anything else?"

I think about Mom's list.

"Maybe a squash."

His eyebrow lifts.

"Maybe?"

"I'm deciding."