Page 144 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Karina

I cradle the wicker basket under my arm while plucking a few peaches from a cart. “Peter, these look delicious.”

The older man behind the wooden cart beams, his white facial hair moving with his lips as he says, “Thank you, Karina. Did you already go through the batch you bought last week?”

“Guilty,” I sing. My grin grows as I notice the berries in the next cart. “Oh, are these the blueberries your wife has been going on about?”

“Yep. Fresh from the garden. She just picked them yesterday.”

It’s hard to resist fresh fruit. Especially when I’ve been on a smoothie kick lately. I might be young, but I won’t be getting younger anytime soon. I ought to take better care of myself. Smoothies are one way to do it.

“I’ll take a few pounds,” I tell him. “And two jars of honey, please.” I tap my chin. “Do you happen to have any fresh honeycombs?”

He nods. “Plenty.”

“I’ll take a few of those.”

Peter whisks away to one of the stands behind him. Once he has my order gathered, I hand him a wad of cash. He pockets it without even counting it. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Karina.”

“And you, Peter. Tell Lori I said hello.”

“She would love to have you for dinner again. What do you say?”

I smile warmly. “I’ll check my schedule.”

A man sidles up on my left and points to the peaches. “Do you trade?”

Peter shrugs. “Depends.”

The man holds up a few jars. “I have maple syrup.”

Peter looks interested. The sweet, decadent aroma of maple syrup invades my nostrils. I’m tempted to ask for a jar, but I have enough in my basket already. And I want to explore the rest of the market.

But it’s hard to tear away when the guy winks at me. He’s tall, fit, bright hazel eyes with a hint of flirtatious mischief in them.

My stomach flips.It’s been too long.

Then Peter starts talking, and the guy looks away. So much for flirting. Or anything more than that.

Smiling, I turn away and wander off, plucking fresh flowers and grabbing little baked treats as I make my way through the market. The stony road gives way to a typical neighborhood and then opens up to city streets after that. Clean windows rise to my left. All sorts of shops dance in my periphery as the sidewalk thickens with people.

I glance at my reflection in the closest window, seeing the swish of my hips and the bounce of my curly hair. A guy walks in lockstep behind me. Tall, fit, possibly bright hazel eyes. I’m sure he’s the one who traded the syrup for peaches, but he’s not carrying peaches. He’s not really carrying anything at all. He seems like he might be reaching for me when he skips around me and walks briskly off.

My heart quivers in my chest.

That was weird.

After I shake it off, I slow my pace under a heavy wooden sign with a cauldron and a heart embedded in the wood.

My last stop is Ramona’s. Best iced coffee around. It’s a nice treat to go with all the baked goods I’ve managed to pile into my basket. As soon as the barista is done preparing my coffee, I hand her a scone and two apples along with a ten-dollar bill.

She smiles. “Karina, I don’t understand how you still have money after buying all that stuff from the market.”

I shrug. “I’m just good at bartering, Donna.”

“You’ll have to teach me sometime.”

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