“I’m almost home. Want to meet me outside and go for a walk? I promised I’d take you to the market.”

“So you did. Was that only yesterday?”

“Sure was. Meet me on the corner in five? If I come in, I’ll get trapped, and I need some air.”

“I’ll be right there.”

He was waiting for her when she parked in front of the house and set out toward the corner.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him in jeans and a black leather jacket, and she couldn’t help but break into a jog to get to him faster. She hurled herself into his outstretched arms and squealed when he lifted her right off her feet.

His mouth descended on hers for a hot, breathtaking kiss.

“Mmm,” she said against his lips. “I missed you.”

“You just saw me a couple of hours ago.”

“Long time.” She burrowed into his neck to nibble on warm skin.

He trembled and tightened his hold on her. “What happened to your ban on PDA?”

“Momentary lapse.”

“I like it.” He returned her to terra firma and tipped her chin up. “There was something you were going to tell me?”

She thought about playing coy again, but as she looked up at his handsome face, she found she couldn’t do it. “I love you. Big.”

His hazel eyes danced with delight. “Big, huh?”

“Scary big.”

“Not scary.” He hugged her. “Because I love you bigger.”

“Not possible.”

“Bet?” Laughing at the face she made at him, he slipped his arm around her shoulders for the walk to the market.

A melting pot of crafts, colors, nationalities, smells and textures, Eastern Market was mobbed with last-minute Christmas shoppers braving the damp chill to bargain with bundled-up vendors.

“You aren’t going to believe this, but I’ve never been here,” he confessed as they passed a row of fragrant Christmas trees.

She stared up at him. “Are you serious? You’ve worked a few blocks from here for how long?”

“Well, I worked for a congressman before John, so I guess almost fourteen years.”

“That’s sad, Nick. Truly pathetic. The flea market is open every weekend, year round.”

“So I’ve heard,” he said with a sheepish grin. “I figured, you know, flea market—junk. I never expected all this hand-crafted stuff.”

“You can get anything here, and it’s usually better than what you can buy in a store.”

“I can see that.”

“Hey, Sam,” one of the vendors called.

“How’s business, Rico?”

“Booming, thank God. Heard about you on the news last night. You okay?”

“Just fine. No worries.”

“Glad to hear it. Bring your dad down one of these weekends.”

“I will.”

After several similar exchanges, Nick said, “Do you know all these people or does it just seem that way?”