Free Love For Sale by Linda Nightingale Page A

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    Looking around him, he sauntered to the passenger side, opened her door and handed her from the car. The big Texas sky was cloudless and as bright blue as Christian’s eyes. A mild breeze ruffled the smooth length of his hair. Sunshine lent him a halo. He dropped a kiss to her cheek, then her earthbound angel rescued a cart abandoned in the parking lot. Who would have thought grocery shopping could be exciting and fun?
    “Why are people so lazy they can’t return carts to the designated area?” He steered with one hand, caressing her fingers with the other. “This could damage a car.”
    On one of the three dates she’d had since the divorce, the jerk wanted to grill at home, meaning her house. When they’d gone to the grocery, he’d walked ahead of her with the cart, leaving her trailing behind like a second-class citizen. It was much better to buy a man. March filled the cart with anything that looked good, and everything sounded delicious.
    “Never go to the grocery hungry.” March turned to find a cranny in the loaded cart and froze with the New Zealand green mussels forgotten in her hand.
    Michael and Paul Jr. stared at them across the narrow aisle. Michael’s collar-length hair had been shorn to a business cut. With each passing day, Paul Jr. looked more like his father. Michael shot Christian a judgmental glance, then pinned her with an accusing look. Car keys dangled from her eldest’s fingers. Paul Jr.’s focus was on Christian, his expression stony.
    “Hi, Mom.” Michael flung a gesture at Christian. “Is this your future husband? Dad said you were getting married again.”
    The boy scanned Christian, a slight frown playing with his brows. Though Michael’s tone was accusatory, she thought she heard sadness in his voice. Was he afraid, with a new husband, she’d turn her back on them?
    “Hullo, Michael, Paul Jr.” Christian smiled, extending his hand. “I’m Christian.”
    Reluctance was too mild a word to describe the way Michael and Paul Jr. accepted the friendly handshake.
    “So, are you going to take Mom back to England?” Paul Jr.’s normal slouch became perfect posture as he fired the first shot in the interrogation, and March flinched.
    “No, we plan to live here.” Christian continued smiling despite the challenge in Paul Jr.’s stance. “In fact, I don’t think your mother has any intention of moving from the current apartment.”
    Michael tucked his hands in his pockets. “Isn’t this engagement kind of sudden?”
    Her stomach twisted. God, where had she gone wrong? She wasn’t their biological mother but had raised them since a young age. She’d never have believed them capable of insolence. What had Paul said to poison them against her?
    Christian slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug, but his gaze flickered from one to the other of the boys. “Haven’t you ever looked at a girl and said to yourself, She’s the one ? No one else will do.”
    Michael thawed a little, withdrew his hands from his pockets, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops. A trace of a smile brightened his face. “Yeah. My girlfriend. Man, I just looked at her, and I knew. She’s totally awesome!”
    “Michael, remember what Dad said.” Paul Jr. gripped the handle of the milk jug.
    March stiffened, anger flashing over her. “What did your father say, Paul Jr.? I’d be really interested to know what kind of lies he’s concocting.”
    “That he looks like a pool boy on Desperate Housewives .” Paul Jr. gave Christian an unflinching stare.
    March gasped at the virtual slap in the face. “Paul…”
    Christian’s face flushed angry, his struggle at control obvious. He bent over the back of the shopping cart. “Actually, Paul Jr., I don’t clean pools. I build those.” He gestured at a model of the Space Shuttle.
    “You put together toys?” Paul Jr.’s mocking tone embarrassed and annoyed March. “Wouldn’t you make more money cleaning pools?”
    Christian