No. He wasn’t interested in other women. He wanted the one he’d had and lost. The one he’d loved and—
“Would that be possible?” Julia asked breathlessly.
He’d missed the question completely, damn it.
Both of his friends looked at him expectantly. Shit, a business question. Of course, he was off in the clouds thinking about Liza.
“I know it’s asking a lot,” she said. “But I really have to have something exclusive and different. I need an angle that no one else is going to have about this project. Something that will show our readers and your new neighbors exactly what you guys are made of.”
Zeke leaned forward. “We could let you see the blueprints for the owners’ box. It’s going to be top-notch.”
She made a face, clearly not interested in blueprints.
“A sneak peek at some of the ballplayers we’re recruiting?” Becker suggested.
“Um, well, the team’s a long way off. I was thinking of something about you guys. Something personal.” She shifted her gaze to land on Nate. “Your life makes good, you know, publicity.” Those angular bones deepened with a blush. “It might be fun to get a little bit deeper in the head of ‘Naughty Nate.’”
Becker snorted softly, and Zeke actually laughed, but Nate had a little white light pop inside the very head she wanted to get into. He put his hands on the desk and nodded, unable to fight a smile.
“Honey, I’ve got a story that will sell newspapers, go viral, and skyrocket your career.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really?”
Next to her, Becker sat up straighter, his own grin wide as he pointed to Nate. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about, Ivory. Grand. Perfectly grand.”
* * *
“Excuse me, ma’am, but your little boy...”
Liza whipped around, almost dropping the oversized paper towel package she held when she spied Dylan leaning far out of the shopping cart to pull a stream of about six hundred deli numbers out of the dispenser a foot away.
“Oh!” She tossed the paper towels into the basket and lunged for the five-foot-long trail of paper. “Dylan. No.”
“Here, I got that.” A man came up next to her, snagging the tickets out of Dylan’s grasp.
“Thank you.” She looked up at him, meeting a kind smile and friendly blue eyes behind serious horn-rimmed glasses. “I’m really...thank you.”
He flipped off the top of the dispenser and spun the wheel so all the numbers rolled right back into place.
“Whee!” Dylan cried out, delighted.
“Tough to shop with kids,” he said, maintaining eye contact with every word. “I try to get here before I pick mine up at day care.”
“Oh...” He picked up his own kid at day care and did the grocery shopping. Single? “Yeah, it’s a challenge,” she said, giving her own smile, even though the whole exchange felt foreign and forced.
“I’m Mike.” He offered his hand, and she barely touched it, not surprised that contact with a light pole would have conducted more electricity.
“Hi, Mike. Thanks again.”
Dylan saved her by reaching for the number roll again. “Whoops, I better get him out of here. Bye.” She pushed the cart quickly away, feeling bad about dissing the fine-looking and hopeful man, but he wasn’t...
He wasn’t Nate.
Blowing out a breath of self-disgust, Liza maneuvered the cart into the express line, absently placing milk and cereal and bananas on the conveyer belt. How long was she going to moon over the guy, and worry...he’d come and claim his son?
So far, for a few weeks anyway, he’d let her be. She’d received a paycheck in the mail after a week, and, thankfully, she got her crappy job back at the County Clerk’s office. And every single night, after an evening of bearing pitying looks from her mother, she’d cried herself to sleep, longing for—
“N-A-T-E!”
Oh, God. “Shhh.” She closed her hands over Dylan’s tiny shoulders and gave his head a kiss. Even he missed Nate.
“N-A-T-E!” He pointed to the right, kicking his legs.
Liza’s heart rolled around her chest as she looked toward the door, expecting, hoping, dreaming her man would be charging into Publix to save her from a lonely, boring, single existence. Or maybe to take Dylan.
But there was no—
“N-A-T-E!” Dylan started kicking again, and finally Liza followed his finger to the rack of tabloids next to the checkout.
And this time her rolling heart fell into her stomach with a thud. The headline blurred for a moment, forcing her to blink to make sense of it.
Naughty Nate Officially Off The Market: Eligible Billionaire Has Fallen In Love
“What?” She reached her hands out, her gaze moving to a picture of Nate taken right outside the villa, leaning on the wall, arms crossed—so of course his biceps looked huge—a serious look on his face.
“That sound you hear?” The voice came from right behind her, forcing her to glance over her shoulder and see the man named Mike behind her in line. “A million hopeful hearts breaking in pieces.”
“Including mine,” said the woman behind him. “One less eligible billionaire for us to dream about.”
Slowly, Liza pulled the brightly colored newspaper from the rack, and Dylan’s squeals reached a higher pitch as Nate’s face got closer.
“N-A-T-E! Nate!”
Behind her, Mike cracked up. “Sounds like your son knows your guilty pleasures, Mom.”
She barely smiled, trying to muster up the concentration to read the first paragraph, but nothing would come together like a noun, verb, or sentence. Just snippets and phrases like hit by a lightning bolt and love at first sight and she brings out the best in me.
“Who?” she demanded, giving the paper a shake.
Mike laughed some more, clearly amused by her frustration. “No wonder I struck out,” he said. “Your bar is too high.”
The nosy woman behind him poked her head into the conversation. “The whole story broke in a local paper over on Mimosa Key. And they say one of the tabloids had some old sex tape, but this announcement trumped that news, and they didn’t even run it.”
“I read that,” said the woman right in front of Liza, scooping up the bag of groceries she’d just finished paying for. “She’s his administrative assistant. Talk about winning the love lottery!”
Liza stared at the paper again, heat and hope and something she’d never ever felt before exploding in her chest, making every cell feel...alive.