Page 9 of The Mafia's Surprise Gift

“I want to stay out here and keep Dozer company.”

“I can’t leave you out here alone,” I said gently but keeping my tone firm. “We won’t be long.”

“But Dozer will get lonely.”

“No, honey. He won’t. Think about how often Grandma has to leave him outside. He’s used to it.”

“No!” Zack started whining, and I could already see how this was going to quickly unravel into an argument. “I’m here. I wanna stay.”

“You can’t stay,” I repeated. “Come on, I need some things from inside here, and then we can come back and get him, okay?”

“No!”

“Come on, Zack,” I scolded, stranding straight and pulling him toward the store. “I can’t leave you out here, so we’re going inside. Dozer will be fine.”

I hated scolding Zack. Despite it being necessary to teach him, every time I did, I was overwhelmed with guilt. Hours of scrolling social media and soaking up hours of content on gentle parenting had done nothing but make me feel guilty every time I had to be firm.

Zack, thankfully, relented, but he stomped with each foot as we headed inside the store. A tantrum was brewing. In public.

If luck was on my side, the store would be empty.

Luck was not on my side.

Running through the mental list of items I needed in my mind, Zack started to hang back as we walked down each aisle. My quick walk had to slow as Zack resisted more and more, and with each pull back on my hand, my irritation was rising. Balancing a grumpy child and a basket full of snacks and body care products was a circus act, and by the third aisle, my tether was short.

“Stop dragging your feet,” I snapped at Zack, whose eyes were narrowed into angry slits. “You’ll scuff up your shoes.”

“Don’t care,” Zack muttered.

“I care. Those are good shoes.”

“Don’t care.”

“Do you want to walk around barefoot?”

“Can I do it outside?” There was a glimmer of hope in his tone.

“No.”

“Don’t care.” Just like that, I dashed his hope of going back out to Dozer and he became even more impossible. He sighed, stomped his feet, and pulled at my arm with all his might. The one time I had to let go of his hand to reach something on the top shelf, he tried to bolt.

I caught him quickly, parking him right back next to me with a firm telling off that the longer he made me take, the less time I’d let him play with Dozer.

Seconds away from a full-blown tantrum, I decided to cut my losses and take what I had managed to get to the checkout. Only when I stood up from getting shampoo off the lower shelf did my bag pull at my shoulder.

It was caught on something.

I tried to angle myself away and free my bag from whatever it was stuck on, but I lacked the core strength to balance, half crouched, while wrestling a child and a basket.

Grumbling, I spun around in time to see a rotating stand filled with birthday cards and keychains begin to topple to the ground. Before it could fall, though, a hand shot out to catch it. The stranger pulled it upright, then turned to me with a dazzling smile that made my heart stop.

All irritation toward my son melted away as I stared into deep brown, almond-shaped eyes set into olive skin. Thick, white-blonde hair swept across the man’s forehead, and he lifted one hand to sweep the loose strands back into place on top of his head.

Dressed in a white shirt, black suit jacket, and tie, this man looked far too gorgeous and far too well-dressed to be shopping in a place like this.

“Th–Thank you,” I stuttered out, wishing I had a hand free so I could offer to shake his just to see what he felt like. My heart raced beneath my ribs, and when I breathed in, my senses were flooded by the tantalizing scents of warm wood and caramelized sugar.

Fuck. He smelled as good as he looked.

---