Project Produce

by Kari Lee Harmon

  It sure as heck beat spending another Friday night alone.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Wow, that’s huge.” I stared in awe.

  “Bigger than you thought, huh?” Dylan asked.

  “This has to be the biggest Toys-R-Us I’ve ever seen.”

  “Oh, you meant the store.”

  “What did you think I was talking about?”

  He held up his hands. “Hey, with you, I never know.”

  “You’re a regular riot.” I smirked.

  He grinned. “I try.” Then he grabbed my hand. “C’mon. We’ve got a lot of territory to cover.”

  “You’re telling me. I don’t know a thing about babies.” As an only child, I didn’t have any nieces or nephews to buy for. And I only had a few distant cousins that I didn’t keep in touch with.

  “Don’t worry. I have six older sisters and a ton of nieces and nephews. We’ll be fine.”

  “Six sisters? Well, that explains a lot.” With his looks, I bet his sister’s friends had paraded around in front of him, giving him a little more attention than the average Joe. Between that and his zucchini, the guy was destined to be addicted to sex.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you have a way with the opposite sex.”

  “You can’t grow up like I did and not learn a few things about women. Especially in an Italian family. Once I learned when to shut my trap and that I’d never win anyway, I got along just fine.” He winked. “Seriously, my sisters are great. Just stubborn and always right. It would never occur to them that they could be wrong about something once in a while.” He stared at me, and his eyes softened. “Kind of like someone else I know.”

  My heart gave a little lurch. Could I be wrong about him? I swallowed hard and reminded myself I’d been burned one too many times, and I’d seen the evidence first hand. Evidence didn’t lie. But I still couldn’t bring myself to confront him about it. “We’d better get going. The store will close soon.”

  He blew out a breath and shook his head. “Let’s go, then.”

  I wandered up and down every aisle on both levels, circled the Ferris wheel, and even took a spin on the Lego ride to no avail. I was totally clueless when it came to kids. Dylan, on the other hand, was amazing. He stopped down one aisle to tie a little boy’s shoe then ruffled the boy’s hair and sent him scurrying after his mother.

  I tried to fight the tender feelings flooding me, reasoning I was simply growing closer to him. Same as I had with Gloria after spending time with her. Okay, not quite the same, but close. I couldn’t wipe the silly grin from my face.

  Scanning the signs, I once again tried to figure out what to get for the baby, dragging Dylan along with me at a quick pace. My arm jerked and I fell back, bouncing off his chest.

  “Whoa there, Mario. What’s the hurry? You’d think this was a race, or something,” he said.

  I faced him. “It is a race. It’s getting late, and we’re not getting anywhere. We have to get serious and shop.”

  His eyes twinkled and he took several steps back. “You said we had to shop, but you didn’t say we couldn’t play.” He whipped out a toy dart gun and fired off a round, smacking the center of my forehead with a rubber dart.

  I gasped. “Where’d you get that from?” Looking around, I glanced at the floor. “Where’d it go?”

  He threw his head back and laughed, taking off running around the corner and down another aisle. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion as I lifted my hand to confirm it. Yup. Sure enough. A rubber dart stuck out from the middle of my forehead, making me look like an ugly unicorn, but a little thrill ran through me. My parents had been so serious, and with no siblings to play with, I’d spent a lot of time playing alone in my room.

  Feeling defiant, I left the dart in place and yelled, “Two can play at this game, you sneaky, pansy-butt coward!”

  A mother standing a few feet away from me gasped and covered her son’s ears.

  “Whoops.” I grimaced. “Sorry.” But it didn’t stop me from tearing down the aisle, looking for a weapon of any kind.

  Spotting Spider Man’s web thingy, I strapped it to my wrist and pretended to sling from aisle to aisle with my arms. God, I felt like a little kid, and I had to admit, it felt great. Rounding the corner, I called out, “You can’t hide forever.”

  The man next to me frowned, but I ignored him, not giving a hoot. I was having more fun than I’d had in a very long time, and darn it, I deserved to. I kept walking and searching for my enemy.

  Just then, feet pounded in the aisle ahead of me. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a huge grin burst across my face as I reversed directions and cut him off at the other end. “Take that, Evil Villain.” I thrust out my hand and squeezed the trigger, spraying a sticky net of spider web at Dylan’s face.

  He ducked, and the web showered a woman sporting the biggest hair I’d ever seen. The woman shrieked and began to rake her inch-long nails through her perfectly coiffed mane.

  Dylan barked out a laugh and took off at a run.

  “I’m so sorry.” I seemed to be saying that a lot today. I backed out of the aisle and charged after Dylan, only to find him standing arrogantly with his hands behind his back.

  “Ha! I’ve got you now.” I aimed the web sprayer right at his head again. “And I’m going to wipe that smug smile right off your cocky face.”

  “Confident, remember?” He smiled his crooked smile and looked way too pleased with himself.

  “Cocky, confident, what’s the difference?”

  “Oh, I think we’ve established there’s a big difference.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What-ever. Prepare to lose, villain.”

  “Take your best shot, Mac.”

  “I’m gonna enjoy this.” I squeezed the trigger with pleasure, but nothing happened. I squeezed again. Still nothing. Out of web spray.

  He let out a slow, evil chuckle.

  I looked at him, and when he pulled his hands from behind his back, my jaw hit the floor. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Wanna bet?” His grin grew enormous. “I’m gonna enjoy this,” he mocked me, then squeezed the trigger of the biggest water gun I’d ever seen.

  I dropped my web sprayer, spun around, and bolted. “Eeeek!” I screamed as a blast of water nailed my insecurity. The sneaky devil must’ve filled it from the water fountain. Slapping my hands on my soggy rear end, I veered off out of the line of fire then skidded to a halt and took note of where I was.

  The doll aisle? Good going, nitwit. What on earth was I supposed to do with these? An idea popped into my mind, and I grinned. Like I said, I’d spent countless hours playing alone in my room, but what I hadn’t mentioned was I’d had the biggest doll collection in town.

  I snatched a doll off the shelf, then raced over to the water fountain and filled her up full. Oh, yeah. This one will do just fine. I peeked around the corner. Sure enough, Dylan walked slowly toward the aisle where I hid. I leaned back so he wouldn’t see me and waited for the perfect moment.

  Footsteps sounded closer, closer, closer. One more step, and he’d be mine.

  “Gotcha, Diaper Boy!” I slid out of the aisle on my knees and squeezed the doll’s tummy as hard as I could, aiming the stream of water shooting out its bottom straight at the zipper of Diaper Boy’s fly. When I lowered the doll, my smile vanished and the breath whooshed right out of my lungs.

  Note to self: Always check the produce first.

  The zipper belonged to a pair of short, stocky Dockers, not a pair of long-legged Levi’s. And that was not a zucchini. Peering higher, I took in the Oxford shirt, tie, and manager’s nametag with a loud gulp. I bit my lip and looked up the rest of the way to encounter eyes filled with what could only be called outrage.

  “Y-You’re not Dylan,” I squeaked, unable to think of anything else to say.

  “And you’re outta here,” the manager ground out, snatching the dart off my forehead. He helped me to my feet and marched me to the front of the store, righ
t through the doors onto the shoveled sidewalk.

  “If it helps, I’m sorry,” I said in a tiny voice.

  “It doesn’t. Don’t come back, ever.” He slammed the door in my face.

  What was I supposed to do now, and where the heck was Dylan? It was all his fault that I was in this predicament. Playing like a child at thirty. What had I been thinking? I made such stupid choices when I was around a guy I was attracted to. A perfect reminder why I had to steer clear of men in general. I zipped up my Eskimo parka and stood shivering on the sidewalk, ready to kill him.

  Ten minutes later, he strolled out, his arms filled with packages. “I can’t believe you got us kicked out of Toys-R-Us,” he said, not even trying to hide his grin.

  “You... You... I can’t believe you did that to me,” I sputtered.

  He took my arm and steered me toward the parking lot. “Did what? You’re the one who went wee-wee on the store manager.”

  “I did not go wee-wee on anyone. It was a doll, and it was water. Oh, you know darn well what it was. And last I checked, you were ahead of him. You must have jumped into the next aisle on purpose, knowing I would think he was you.” I groaned. “I can’t believe I did that. Why couldn’t my aim have been off that time?”

  “Trust me, that guy deserves to have someone annoy him. He calls our precinct at least once a day with complaints, bugging the crap out of everyone. Wait until I tell the guys downtown.” A strangled laugh escaped through Dylan’s nose, until he finally let loose and doubled over. “Anyone who didn’t see you blast his balls with that doll must really think he wet his pants.”

  I couldn’t help it. A giggle bubbled up from some naughty child within, until I laughed as hard as he did. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I leaned against Big Betty to catch my breath. “Seriously, though, that was a very bad thing to do.”

  “That’s right, and I hope you’ve learned your lesson.” His eyes filled with mischief. “Don’t mess with the best, because you’re never going to win.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but he ducked inside the car and unlocked my door. Finding myself grinning despite his outrageous comments, I slid into my seat and shut the door. “We never did buy a baby gift,” I pointed out, still smiling.

  “You’re right. We bought several,” he answered with a chuckle, pointing to the back seat. “One Torpedo Dart Gun--minus a dart, one empty Spider Man Web Blaster, one half-loaded Giant Millennium Super Soaker, and one very wet Wee-Wee Diana.”

  “Gloria’s going to kill us,” I said.

  “Let’s just hope Wee-Wee Diana’s all tapped out.”

  We both laughed and remained smiling for the rest of the ride back to my apartment. Tonight, Super Cop had seemed like a regular guy. A guy who was compassionate and sensitive, who had a wonderful rapport with children, yet could be a child himself with his easy-going humor and playfulness. A guy I’d never known existed.

  A guy I had no idea what to do with.

  ***

  “What am I going to do, Gloria? You know what I went through back home. I don’t need this right now.” I curled my bare legs up under me on the worn-out couch and sipped my Saturday morning coffee, the rich aroma filling my senses. I wore my standard T-shirt and panties sleepwear. I couldn’t bring myself to wear the green silk nightie I’d bought, because it reminded me too much of Hot Britches.

  Gloria usually slept in on Saturday mornings, but she was too keyed up from the success of her gig last night. There’d been an agent in the audience who’d given her his card, saying he was interested in talking to her about representation. I was thrilled for her, really, I was. But we’d talked for the last hour about her. Now, it was my turn. I needed help.

  “So forget about him, simple as that.” She poured herself another cup and joined me on the couch, her silk pajamas whispering all the way. Then snatched the afghan off the back cushion and tossed it over her legs.

  “I tried. And failed.” I sighed, shivering. An early morning chill had settled around us, so I pulled a corner of her blanket over my lap and continued. “I was completely content in giving up on the male species, then bam, I meet Hot Britches. Now, I’m totally confused. He seems so perfect, I have to keep reminding myself that he’s obsessed with sex.”

  “Excuse me, how many times have you had sex with Dylan?” She arched a brow.

  “Well, none, but--”

  “Listen,” she swiped her hand through the air, “for someone who’s supposedly an addict, he sounds a bit lame to me.”

  I frowned. “He’s not lame. He’s made moves, or maybe I have. Heck, I can’t remember.”

  “My point exactly. An addict probably would’ve given up a long time ago, or possibly pressured you ‘till you caved. You, of all people, should know that. Everything’s black and white with you, chica. Maybe you’re wrong about this one.”

  “I’m not, trust me. I saw--”

  “The evidence, I get it. I just don’t buy it.” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “Just because he’s into girly mags and Internet porn, doesn’t mean he’s addicted to sex. It just means he’s a guy.”

  I stared down into the creamy swirls of brown in my cup. “I guess part of me is afraid he may have seen that stupid porn video of me. I just don’t think I could stomach that.” My eyes met hers. “What if he’s just being nice to me because he thinks I’m easy?”

  She laughed. “Honey, if you were easy, he would’ve gotten some by now. I think he would’ve figured that one out and given up on you.” She grew serious. “Ever think maybe he just likes you for you?”

  “I might think that, except for Flasher Freak. I know how much Dylan wants to be the one to catch him. Once that happens, he won’t have a reason to hang out with me. He’s just using me to further his career.”

  “Kinda like you’re using him to find your answers?” She arched a winged brow.

  “Yeah. Great basis for a relationship.” I snorted. “Once he finds out he’s part of a psychology project, he’s going to hate me anyway, so what’s the point?”

  She stood up and carried her cup to the sink, rinsing it out as she spoke. “You’re way over-thinking this. Just enjoy his friendship while it lasts. You seem happier since he came into your life. It doesn’t have to go any further than that, if you don’t want it to. And if it does, well hell, enjoy that too.” She winked. “Just don’t go losing your heart, and you’ll be fine.” She headed into her room to change for work, calling out behind her, “Loosen up, would ya? Go have fun.”

  Gloria was right. I stared outside at the bright sunshine and clear blue sky, determined to have a good time on my date. Hypothetical date, that is. So, really, I shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Just because I was the type to fall fast and hard in the past didn’t mean I would do so now. Especially if I was on guard against it. I just had to keep reminding myself of that, and everything would be all right.

  ***

  “I can’t do this.” My skates slipped out from under me, and I landed hard on the ice for the millionth time today. Who knew my insecurity could be an asset? I painstakingly made my way to a bench, plopped down with a wince, and crossed my arms over the bulk of my Eskimo parka.

  “Sure you can. Just have a little patience, and it’ll come.” Dylan gave me an encouraging smile.

  Why did he have to be so nice? Or so cute? And why in the world had I ever agreed to ice skating at Rockefeller Center when I didn’t have a clue how to skate? Because I’d had such an amazing time in the toy store last night, I admitted. And because I never could turn down a challenge.

  Since I chose where we went last night, it was his turn today. He hadn’t even told me until he picked me up and we were on our way. Like I could cancel then. Besides, I wasn’t kidding when I said I was competitive.

  I once ate ten pounds of Grandma Brown’s baked beans all by myself because Shawn Sheritan claimed to have done so and made the arrogant mistake of saying I couldn’t. I didn’t even like beans, but I was determined to make him
pay. I just hadn’t anticipated the entire west wing of Cutesville High would pay as well.

  If someone had lit a match, the whole school would have gone up.

  But I didn’t regret it one bit. Even if I hadn’t been the most popular kid in school, I’d won. Today wasn’t any different. Okay, so I wasn’t tooting like a choo-choo train stuck in high gear, but there was no way I would quit until I skated on my own at least once.

  To Dylan’s credit, he’d been trying to help me all afternoon, but I’d been too stubborn to allow it. No wonder he was good at skating. How could he not be? His feet were so big, he looked like he wore skis instead of skates. Heck, I could be Nancy Kerrigan with those. I huffed out a breath and peeked up at him from under the hood of my humongous coat. I hated that I couldn’t do this on my own, but maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible thing to accept just a little bit of help.

  I thrust out my hand, and a tender smile curved his lips. That was hard for me to do, and he knew it. He took my hand and tugged me to my feet.

  “Whaaaaaaaa!” I fell into his chest and threw my arms around his waist, squeezing the breath out of him.

  “I like you, too,” he wheezed, “but if you want me to show you how to skate, you’ll have to loosen your hold.”

  “Sorry.” I started to let go, but my feet began to zig then zag. Grabbing back onto him because my life depended on it, I shook my head firmly. “Uh-uh. No way. No can do, Detective. You’re not leaving me on my own out here.”

  He chuckled and wrenched my arms loose, but he kept hold of my hands. “Relax, Mac. I’m not going anywhere.”

  And he didn’t. He stayed by my side. Or rather, in front of me, skating backward and holding my hands for the next hour, until I gradually gained confidence. Grinning that cute crooked grin, and wearing those heat shields that had become less annoying and more a part of who he was, he urged me on, never once losing patience. Most guys might have been bored or tired of me by now, but he truly seemed to be enjoying himself, confusing me even more.