He wasn’t lying. My bathroom had to undergo a complete overhaul. We knocked down an unnecessary linen closet, gaveme a walk-in shower with a standing tub, double sinks and a water closet. It’s absolutely perfect.
We walk further up the aisle to get more stuff and stop at the section of nails. Just then, a gorgeous blonde-haired woman walked past us. She looks over at Mitch and does a double take. I watch her eyes spark with interest. A part of me wants to tell her to keep her eyes to her damn self. I mean, what if he was my man and you’re walking by eye-fucking him? However, another part of me realizes he is not mine. And although I enjoy my friend, he deserves to find love.
I turn to see if he’s picking up what she’s putting down. Mitch is too busy looking through the shelves of nails, trying to find the right one for the project.
I smacked his arm. He looks down at me and frowns.
“What?”
“Did you not see her?” I ask, glancing past him to the woman who has now stopped a little distance behind us. She’s looking at the plywood, but I can tell by the way she’s scanning over it she isn’t really looking for anything.
Mitch turns around. The exact moment he does, the blonde looks at him. Their gazes connect for a moment. She smiles and ducks her head flirtatiously. Mitch turns back to look at me. I wait for him to tell me how pretty she is, or to stay here while he goes and gets her number.
This man looks at me with a straight face and says, “You think Paulette is serving country fried steak today? I wouldn’t mind stopping by there before we head back to the house.” He turns back to the nails before grabbing a box.
The woman glances at him once more before walking further down the aisle.
“Mitch, what the hell?”
His brow dips as he looks over at me.
“She was checking you out,” I find myself explaining, not sure why I need to.
Honestly, this is not the first time he and I have been out somewhere and women have checked him out. The man is gorgeous. I understand their fascination. Usually, I don’t call attention to it. I figured he just never noticed it, but this was obvious.
He shrugs. “Yeah, so?”
He pushed the buggy up the aisle. I keep in step with him.
“So? Why didn’t you go over there? You could have easily gotten her number.”
He looks down at me with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t want her number.”
I can’t say I know what Mitch’s type is. In high school and college he dated a collection of chicks: white, black, Hispanic, and Asian. Andrew used to joke and say his friend was an equal opportunist dater. His ex-wife, whom I never liked, was a typical pretty white chick. However, the woman who had just checked him out was stunning.
“Why not? She was pretty.”
“Yeah, she was, but she was also checking for a man who was standing with another woman. She didn’t know if I was with you or not. It was disrespectful of her to dismiss you. And I don’t do disrespect.”
I have to take a second before I can speak. My heart does a little stutter step in my chest. I try not to compare anything to Andrew. It’s best I leave our relationship in the past. But some things are hard to ignore. My ex would have loved to gloat about a woman checking him out. He would always tell me about some woman at a store or at work who was flirting with him. Of course, he would say he wasn’t interested or downplay the woman’s looks, but he would always tell me.
“Come on,” he says, moving further. “Let’s check out. I’m starving.”
I follow behind him, trying to ignore the way his words make my stomach flutter and my heart race. Those feelings have no place in our relationship.
When we get to the register, Mitch unloads the buggy. I don’t even mention paying for any of this stuff. The man refuses to let me pay for anything, even though I told him it isn’t his responsibility.
“Aren’t you going to check your list to make sure we have everything?”
He looks down at me with a playful smirk.
“Hey, don’t knock my lists. They have been lifesavers.”
I wouldn’t say I’m a type-A personality, but I love organization and lists.
He held up his hands in a posture of surrender. “I have no issues with your many lists. I appreciate them.”
I smile as I reach into my purse to pull out my phone. I’d planned to go into my notes app, but got sidetracked when I saw the notifications for the dating app.
