Free One Touch of Moondust by Sherryl Woods Page B

been white. He nodded. She sighed. “We’ll get white and whole wheat.”
    As they approached the meat section she said, “What about dinners? Do they have decent fish here?”
    â€œBeats me.”
    â€œWhat do you eat?” she began, then held up a hand. “Wait. Let me guess hot dogs and steak.”
    He grinned. “What else?”
    â€œYou’re going to die before you’re forty.”
    â€œAs long as I don’t do it while we’re sharing the apartment, it shouldn’t bother you.”
    â€œCouldn’t we make a deal for the next few weeks? I’ll do the cooking and you’ll try whatever I prepare.”
    He glanced down at the groceries they’d already collected. “Okay,” he said finally. “But none of those funny looking green things.”
    Gabrielle’s mind went blank. “Funny looking green things?”
    â€œYou know, they look sort of like a cactus.”
    â€œArtichokes?”
    â€œYeah. That’s it.”
    She bit back a laugh. “Okay. No artichokes. Anything else?”
    â€œNo fish eggs.”
    â€œI wouldn’t dream of wasting caviar on you.”
    â€œAnd we go out for pizza one night a week, so I won’t starve to death.”
    Laughing, she held out her hand. “It’s a deal.”
    After an instant’s hesitation, he took her hand. “Deal,” he said softly, his gaze locked with hers. It was not a look meant to be shared over raw hamburger. It spoke of candlelight and white damask napkins. Or maybe satin sheets.
    She knew without any explanation that the truce had to do with far more than artichokes and caviar. Paul, a man whose life had probably been quite simple only a few days ago, was struggling to find the right balance fortheir complex and confusing relationship. That handshake was his renewed commitment to try.
    * * *
    But despite the pact in the grocery store, the day continued to have moments of high tension, moments when a glance threatened to turn into far more, moments when a casual remark took on added meaning. Paul’s edginess communicated itself to her until they were practically tiptoeing around the apartment to avoid offending each other.
    Finally Gabrielle retreated to her room and sat down with the classified ads. Moments later she heard Paul leave the apartment. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach, but she forced herself to concentrate on the ads. She already had two interviews lined up for the following morning. Both were for jobs she’d heard about by word of mouth. Still she looked, circling one or two that she’d at least call about.
    â€œAnd what if these don’t pan out?” she said aloud. “How long are you going to wait before taking Paul’s advice and looking for something different?”
    One more day, she promised herself finally.If Monday’s meetings and calls failed to result in at least a strong possibility of a job offer, she would turn elsewhere. To remind herself of the commitment, she folded the classified section and placed it prominently where she couldn’t miss it, propped against the mayonnaise jar of flowers that had barely survived the morning’s calamities with petals intact.
    She decided it was time to replace them. A visit to the garden might also soothe her frazzled nerves and keep her out of Paul’s way. If he was going to growl around like an angry bear, it was definitely wise to stay out of his path.
    Unfortunately he found her.
    â€œWe need to talk,” he began at once, sitting down in the chair opposite her. He picked up one of the flowers she’d cut and began stripping it of its petals.
    â€œOkay,” she agreed cautiously, moving the remaining flowers out of reach. “What about?”
    â€œOur…” He hesitated, refusing to meet her eyes. “Our arrangement.”
    â€œDoes that include an explanation aboutwhy you’ve been in such a foul humor