He dusted his hands down the front of his jeans and glanced over the stand, checking to see that all was as it should be. Everything looked good, and he turned back to the stack of pallets piled behind their displays. Might as well get rid of those before the rush.
By the time he’d tracked down one of the market’s forklift drivers and arranged for him to shift the pallets to the holding area, half an hour had passed. The bitter cold was starting to burn off as the sun made its presence felt, and Dom shed another layer as he made his way back to the stand.
He’d just finished pulling his sweatshirt over his head when he saw her.
She was wearing a long, cherry-red coat, the furry collar pulled up high around her face as she talked to his father. Her long, straight dark hair hung down her back, glossy in the overhead lights. She turned her head slightly and he watched her smile, noting the quick flash of her teeth, the way her eyes widened as she laughed at something his father said.
As always when he saw her, his gut tightened and his shoulders squared.
Lucy Basso.
Man, but she was gorgeous. Her sleek hair. The exotic sweep of her cheekbones. Her ready smile. The elegant strength of her body.
Gorgeous—and now he didn’t have to feel guilty about noticing.
He stepped closer, automatically smoothing a hand over his hair to make sure he didn’t have any goofy spikes sticking up from dragging off his sweatshirt. Just to be safe, he checked his fly as well. Never could tell when a clothing malfunction was loitering in the wings, waiting to bring a guy down.
All the while, he drank her in with his eyes. She looked even better than he remembered.
Lucy and her sister had grown up in Preston, just one suburb across from his own family’s stomping ground in Brunswick. They’d gone to different schools but the same church, and he’d been aware of her from the moment he’d first started noticing girls. There was something about the way she held herself—tall and proud, as though she knew exactly what she was worth.
He hadn’t been the only guy in the neighborhood who’d noticed. He’d never been put off by competition, but somehow the timing had never been right to make his move. Life kept intervening—other girlfriends for him, then, when he was free, she’d be with some other boy. Then they’d stopped running into each other altogether as they grew up and went out into the world. He’d only reconnected with her in the past year when she’d approached his father about the new door-to-door fresh produce delivery service she was starting up. After that, he’d seen her every day for six months before he bailed on his life for Italy. And he’d felt guilty every time he looked at her and felt the pull of desire. It wasn’t like he’d needed the added hassle as he and Dani battled through the ugly death throes of their marriage, and often he’d resented the attraction he’d felt.
Bad timing—again.
But things were different now. He was a single man. Divorced. Not exactly a shining badge of honor, not something he’d ever planned, but it was what it was.
And Lucy Basso was standing in front of him, looking amazing, daring him to reach out for something he’d always wanted.
She’d been one of the reasons for coming home. Not the main reason, not by a long shot. But he’d always wondered where she was concerned. What if.? And now there was nothing stopping him from finding out.
He was about to take the last step forward when a voice piped up in his head.
What are you doing, man? What happens if things get serious and she discovers you’re an empty promise?
He pushed the thought away. He refused to live half a life, no matter what had happened with Dani. Especially when Lucy was standing within reach.
“Lucy Basso. Good to see you,” he said.
She was already smiling as she turned to face him, her olive skin golden even under the harsh fluorescent lights.
“Dom! Hey, long time no see. I heard you’d taken off for Italy,” she said.
She had an amazing voice. Low and husky.
“Decided it was time to take a look around the old country, see what all the fuss was about,” he said. He tucked a hand into the front pocket of his jeans and rested his hip against the side of the stall.
“And?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing around her mouth.
“The Vatican is an okay little place. And they did some nice work at the Coliseum. But, to be honest, it would have been much more impressive if they’d finished building it.”
She laughed and pulled a face at him. “Bet you didn’t make that joke when you were in Rome.”
“As a matter of fact,” he said, “I didn’t.”
She laughed again.
He shot a glance toward his father, aware that Tony was watching their exchange with a big smile on his face.
Go away, he urged his father silently. There’s no way I’m asking her out with you standing there. I’ll never hear the end of it.
“I bet you’re glad to have him back, Mr. Bianco,” Lucy said.
“I save work especially for him,” Tony said, rubbing his apron-covered belly with his hands, his smile broadening. “To make up for long holiday.”
His father was looking at Lucy with admiring eyes and Dom realized he wasn’t going anywhere soon. He might be pushing sixty, but Tony knew a beautiful woman when he saw one and he wasn’t above a little harmless flirtation in his old age.
“Six months in Italy. I can only imagine,” Lucy said, closing her eyes for a beat. “Heaven. The way I’m going, I’ll get over there when I’m ready to retire,” she said.
“Make the time. It’s worth it,” Dom said. “Even if you only go for a few weeks.”
She shrugged, her hair spilling over her shoulder. “Nice idea, but it’s not going to happen,” she said ruefully.
Then she reached for her purse to pay for her order, and her coat fell open.
The words Dom had been about to say died in his throat as he registered the gentle bump that had been hidden by the long lines of her coat.
She was pregnant.
Lucy Basso was pregnant. Which meant she was married. Not free. Not available. And definitely not about to go out with him.
Bad timing again. The worst timing in the world, in fact.
Fifteen years of lust, blown away in a few seconds.
Damn.
CHAPTER TWO
SOMEHOW DOM MANAGED to make coherent conversation for the next few minutes, but his gaze kept dropping to the bump swelling Lucy’s sweater. After a while, she placed a hand there and blushed.
“Starting to show now, I guess,” she said.
“Uh, yeah. When are you due?” he asked.
“Just before Christmas.”
“Wow. I guess your husband must be over the moon,” he said, fishing unashamedly.
Who had she married? How come his mother hadn’t mentioned it in one of her letters to him? He’d gotten updates on every other birth, death or marriage in the neighborhood. Why would she miss Lucy Basso’s?
Lucy tugged her coat closed and slid a button home