Chapter Eleven
PRESENT DAY
ABU DHABI, UAE
Neon lights decorated the entrance of an otherwise boring stucco building, turning an everyday shopping experience into something that only the United Emirates could have dreamed up.
Well, the UAE or Las Vegas, though, Hagan could appreciate the difference between LuLu’s Hypermarket and the Vegas strip.
He crossed the parking lot with his teammates, and they strolled into the megamart like a pack of prowling animals, each with their own agendas.
Liam would always purchase diapers and fresh fruit for his wife’s smoothies.
Chance would search out specific cuts of meat to cook for his wife.
Without fail, Sawyer and Camden would complain that they couldn’t purchase a six-pack of beer and then fill their arms with energy drinks, jerky, and junk food.
Hagan’s grocery shopping habits leaned closer toward bachelor purchases, either way, their group was nothing if not predictable shoppers.
They followed their usual routines. Liam and Chance secured shopping carts and left for the produce section.
Camden hooked a bag of salted potato grills off of a sale display and then followed Sawyer toward the soft drink aisle.
Hagan didn’t need anything in particular except to see a different four walls.
If he’d stayed home, he wouldn’t have been able to ignore his questions about the gorgeous woman and Jared’s warning.
Hagan nabbed a basket and trailed Liam and Chance in the produce section.
There had been a familiarity about that woman Hagan couldn’t shake, but he still couldn’t place her.
Mindlessly, he grabbed a papaya and a sack of mandarin oranges.
Even if Hagan could recall the woman, that didn’t account for Jared’s reaction.
“Hey, man,” Chance called.
Hagan realized both men had been watching him blankly stare into the fruit. “What’s up?”
A worry line pinched across Liam’s forehead. “You’re looking pretty serious over that citrus.”
He tried to relax. “Big decisions, I guess.” When they didn’t loosen up, he added, “Long day. That’s all.”
“Right.” Chance maneuvered his cart to the side and let another shopper pass.
A long day was the truth. Maybe not in the way their team might normally pull in a long day, but he was mentally exhausted. Not to mention, his groin was still sore.
Chance and Liam picked up a conversation, debating a trade in a fantasy sports league. Hagan realized he didn’t need anything else from the produce section—or any other grocery aisles. He wandered away and let the lure of big-screen TVs pull him deeper into the store.
LuLu’s Hypermarket reminded him of a Walmart Supercenter. It had food, plus everything else. The overhead speaker alternated announcements in several languages, notifying customers of freshly cubed Australian lamb, free trials of their home delivery service, and a sale on small appliances.
Even at this hour, the store had a steady flow of foot traffic with an eclectic crowd. Hagan spied Sawyer and Camden in the video game aisle with their items piled by their feet. Neither noticed him approach as they played the Nintendo Switch on display.
Camden pitched forward as though trying to assist the game controller with his physical willpower, then noticed Hagan. “Hey, man, you want in?”
Mindless gaming would probably be a good idea, but a restless urge needled his gut. “Nah.”
“Suit yourself.” Sawyer smashed the controller buttons.
Hagan watched for another minute and then left. Nothing caught his eye. Aimlessly, he turned into the next aisle, stepping around a salesclerk stocking shelves, next to a scarfed woman studying the back of a box.
The display sign gave him pause. Bluetooth for Bouncing Sports.
He smiled, and if the lady and the salesclerk hadn’t been in the way, Hagan would’ve taken a picture for his sister.
Roxana enjoyed the English translations that were unfamiliar to her, like ‘sweet water’ for soda and ‘light’ instead of diet.
Hagan pulled out his phone and waited for the woman to move, typing a message to his sister.
What the hell are Bouncing Sports?
Neither the clerk nor the woman got out of his way. His index finger tapped along the side of his phone. Hagan selected a box of earbuds from the shelf and mused over the possibilities listed in the product description. He skipped the Arabic and read the accompanying English summary.
For exercise workout regimens such as running or outdoor training. Resists sweat and rain. Perfect to achieve athletic goals!
Unwilling to wait any longer to photograph the display sign, he snapped a picture of the box, sent it to Roxana, and returned the earbuds to the shelf as the woman turned to her cart.
Their eyes clashed, and the hair on his arms stood on end.
Hell, every part of his body jumped to attention.
Pinpricks of lust curled down his spine.
A thousand questions came to mind. “Twice in one day…”
She dropped the box into her cart and gripped its metal frame. “Did you follow me?”
His head cocked. “Are you serious?” Apparently, she was. He studied the scarf draped over her head and her clothes from earlier, and it struck him again that she wanted to blend in and hide. A woman like that would have to do a lot more to dull her shine than simply cover up.
He soaked in the appeal of her pink lips. Their irresistible fullness made him weak in the knees. Her mouth seemed soft and sweet, like he could brush his lips against hers for hours.
But she wasn’t drinking him in as well, and without the threat of a staircase showdown, he could see that she didn’t miss anything.
To hell with what she saw in him, what was she looking for?
Her eyes were the darkest shade of espresso, not quite black and not quite brown.
And just like the shot, he saw her as strong and robust. Bitter without the bite.
Almost too hot to handle, but without the cliché of knowing it.
His chest tightened, and he wanted to know what made this lady tick. “We should exchange names.”
For the second time in one day, he extended his hand.
She jerked the cart back.
“Or not.” His hand dropped, and he waited for her to leave. She didn’t, almost skittish as she inched to where she had been. “You’re kind of jumpy to be in this line of work, aren’t you?”
Her lips pinched. Their natural color paled. “What do you think I do? Wait. Never mind.” She lifted her hand to stop his guesses. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
Hagan laughed. “I think you do.”
She rolled her eyes but flushed. “I think you’re wrong.”
“Nah.” He gave a semi-apologetic lift of his shoulders, unable to hide his grin. “I don’t think so.”
She fidgeted, as though she didn’t know what to do next. Stay and talk? Run for her life?
He hazarded a step closer. The anticipation of what could be hit him like a bolt of lightning. “I guess we all have our secrets.”
Her chin lifted defiantly. “You don’t have secrets.”
“You don’t say?”
“Not the kind that matter,” she challenged.
He crossed his arms but let his lips curl. “That’s a little judgmental.”
Stress tightened at the corners of her eyes. “You’re too alive to have secrets like mine.”
“Trust me, lady.” He inched closer again. “You seem alive to me.” He recalled the way his palms had slid over her warm curves; certain her mind had also slipped to their previous interaction. “Very alive.”
Her pupils flared.
“The truth is,” he added quietly, “I don’t have any secrets, and I don’t care about yours.”
The salesclerk turned from his tedious shelf-stocking task, and suddenly Hagan remembered that they weren’t alone. The overhead lights glared. Store announcements loudly grated over his senses. She yanked her shopping cart to face the opposite direction.
His pulse picked up. There was no telling if they’d cross paths again. “Not even a goodbye?”
He expected her to storm off and watched her knee carefully. But she simply stared into the cart and let her scarf obscure any facial expressions. An urge to move to her side nearly won out, but he forced himself to remain still. “If you’re hiding from someone, I’m not that person.”
The salesclerk looked between them and apparently decided it would be a good time for him to leave. Hagan waited until the man disappeared before stepping closer. “I’m not a threat. But if you’re hiding from someone—”
Her shoulders squared. “I’m not hiding,” she snapped. “I don’t hide.”
“Okay.” He lifted his palms in surrender. “Just like you don’t say goodbye or have friends.”
“I operate within the boundary of specific restrictions.”
“Yeah, that definitely doesn’t sound like you’re hiding.”
“And,” she continued, “even if I didn’t abide by those rules, I wouldn’t say goodbye to a stranger when I walk away."
“We’re not strangers.” The corners of his lips twitched. “We almost got to second base.”
Her lips parted with a gasp that went straight to his groin. “I don’t know you.”
“You must’ve had one hell of a day not to remember pulling a gun on me.” He inclined his head. “And we can’t forget that little incident that may cost me my future children—”
Her cheeks flamed. “All right. We’re not strangers.”
“Glad we agree.” He waited for her to storm off. For every second she remained, his confusion multiplied.
She rubbed a hand over her face, quietly laughing. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“Glad I’m not the only one feeling that way right now.”
Her fingers pressed to the base of her throat as her lips parted, unintentionally setting his insides on fire as if his blood had turned to lava. Invisible sparks crackled. The air seemed heavy and hot. “Give me a straight answer about dinner.”
She blinked hard and stumbled back, as though he’d shaken her from a dream.
“And don’t tell me ‘I can’t’.” He took a step closer. “Yes or no: I want to get to know you, and I want to take you out.” He tried to get a read on her and had no idea what she’d say. “Would you like to have dinner with me this weekend?”
She licked her bottom lip, and for a half-second, his ego readied for a swift shutdown. But she didn’t say anything, as if she couldn’t.
He had to look away, rubbing a hand over his face.
“I…” Her brow furrowed. “Well…”
Hell, he didn’t want to make her squirm. “Wait. Different question.” He changed tactics. “How about…do you want to go to dinner with me?”
She grinned, and Hagan almost threw his arms into the air.
But then he saw the moment she pulled back.
The sparkle in her eyes dulled, and her warm smile seemed a burden to hold in place.
Something hummed in his chest. “I’ll meet you again in the stairwell,” he suggested with a laugh.
“This time, I’ll have showered and will bring food. ”
Her eyes softened. “Really?”
“Sure.” He lifted his shoulders—then his skin went cold. Her bottom lip trembled, and he worried she might cry. “Are you okay?”
Her spine straightened. She reached for her shopping cart like it might roll away. “I have to go.”
With a white-knuckled grip, she shoved off. Blindsided disappointment crashed over him.
She stopped abruptly and turned. “Have a good night.” Tension pinched in her words, as if she’d forced each syllable out. She offered a small, painfully cute wave. “Goodbye.”
Her struggle was painful to watch. Why the hell couldn’t she hold a conversation or make a friend? Hagan balled his hands and shoved them into his pockets. “Are you okay?
“I appreciate what you said and the invitation—” Her voice wavered.
“Seriously.” The back of his neck tingled. “Are you okay?”
“I just wanted to tell you to have a good night. Goodbye.” She hurried away, only slowing at the end of the aisle to sweep the perimeter, then disappeared.
What just happened?
“There he is,” Sawyer bellowed. “You disappeared.”
Hagan turned to Sawyer and Camden. They ambled down the aisle with a week’s worth of junk food in their arms, then stopped short. Each man narrowed his gaze, as though Hagan looked as battered on the outside as he felt on the inside.
Sawyer repositioned a six-pack of energy drinks. “What the hell happened to you?”
Hagan rubbed a hand over his face. “No idea.”
They took it as a joke and let it go. Hagan followed them toward the front of the hypermarket, half-listening to their debate over who would’ve won their game.
At the checkout, he tossed his items onto the conveyor belt, very aware that the nameless woman was gone. The air no longer crackled and sparked.
If he saw her again, he’d try his luck with an easier approach, like a simple hello, then let her take it from there. Answers would come—if they crossed paths again. More than anything, Hagan realized he simply wanted to know her name.