“The farmers market. I’m in desperate need of some fruits and veggies, and I don’t like to get them at the grocery store. They’re never as fresh or as tasty.” She shifted her purse to her other shoulder so she could lock the apartment door. “Oh, and one of the vendors there sells the best homemade jams and jellies. I swear, they’re to die for. Especially the strawberry jam.”
“You had me at strawberry jam.”
“That was the last thing I said!”
“Was it?” His tone was breezy. “Anyway, should we take my car or yours?”
Darcy blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“How would you like to get to the market?” He spoke slowly, as if she were a non-English-speaking immigrant who’d just stepped onto American soil. “In my vehicle or yours?”
He wanted to come with her?
Reluctance seized her chest. No, he definitely couldn’t do that. She’d specifically told him that she only wanted sex. So unless they showed up at the market naked and f**ked on a pile of tomatoes, letting him come along compromised her entire stance. Farmers markets were notoriously known for being relationship places. If she and Reed visited one together, they’d be taking the first step toward coupledom.
Which meant she had to put her foot down and lay down the law again.
Except she’d underestimated his tenacity.
“My car,” he decided. “It’s faster than yours. We don’t want to get there too late and find out that all the jam is sold out. Here, want me to carry your bags?” Without letting her answer, he swiped the empty sacks and tucked them under his arm, then took off walking.
Darcy gaped at his retreating back. And then her gaze lowered to his perfect ass, hugged by faded blue jeans, and for a moment there she forgot where she was. All she could think about was how good it felt to squeeze those firm bu**ocks when Reed was plunging his c**k inside her.
It took a second to snap out of her dirty trance, and by then, Reed was already at the elevator, tossing her an expectant look over his shoulder.
Well. Clearly the man wasn’t taking no for an answer, so why not let him tag along? Besides, she planned on buying a ton of stuff, so she might as well put all those glorious muscles of his to good use and force him to carry her bags.
“So what happened to Jeff?” she asked as they stepped into the elevator.
Reed instantly tensed. “He was arrested after you left.”
“Good. Another dealer off the streets, right?”
The dark cloud on his face didn’t dissipate. “Yup. And now I get to spend the rest of my life apologizing to Gage and AJ for bringing that scumbag into the club.”
“Reed, it’s not your—”
“Fault,” he finished, his bitter expression a clear indication that he didn’t want to pursue the subject any longer.
Darcy didn’t push him, going quiet as they rode the elevator to the lobby and headed outside where Reed’s black Camaro waited at the curb. She slid into the passenger seat, breathing in the clean pine fragrance intermixed with the spicy masculine scent she was growing accustomed to. Or addicted to. Either one worked.
Reed started the car and merged into traffic. He drove toward the stop sign at the end of the street, stopped dutifully, then took a left turn and said, “We’re going to Haymarket, right? Or did you want to hit Copley Square?”
Darcy had to scrape her jaw off the car floor. “Haymarket. And how are you so knowledgeable about the city’s farmers markets?”
He shrugged, his foot easing up on the gas as they neared a red light. “My uncle used to date this woman who made her own cheese. She sold her stuff at a different market every weekend, all over the East Coast, and Uncle Colin always forced me to go with him.”
A hundred more questions bit at Darcy’s tongue. She suddenly realized she didn’t know a thing about Reed’s background. Who his parents were, where he’d gone to school, why he’d chosen to fight professionally.
She swallowed her curiosity, clinging to the swift reminder that she wasn’t allowed to get to know him outside the carnal sense. That would only land her in hot water. She would get attached like she always did, and then all her hopes for a harmless, no-heartbreak fling would go up in flames.
Still, her silence brought a rush of guilt. Darcy had never felt ruder in her life as she fixed her gaze out the window and pretended to admire the scenery she’d seen thousands of times before. The lack of interaction bothered her, but not as much as the one-word responses she offered when Reed tried to engage her in conversation.
For a woman whose middle name was chatty, keeping a conversational distance was excruciating. Reed didn’t comment on her sudden change of personality, but he did shoot several contemplative glances her way throughout the entire drive.
Twenty minutes later, they entered the enormous outdoor market and joined the crowd of people already filling the large space. It was mid-September, and the temperature was still in the high eighties, much to Darcy’s pleasure. She was hoping the good weather followed them all the way to October, the month she’d drawn for her recess chaperoning duties at school. But she already knew her October stint would be a gazillion times better than last year, when she’d shivered in the playground for the entire month of February during one of the worst winters to ever hit Boston.
“Where should we go first?” Reed asked.
Darcy’s gaze roamed the rows and rows of tables that made up the market. “Let’s start with veggies, then hit the fruit stands, and finish up with some jam tasting.”