My stomach twists, and the apology flies out of my mouth before I can stop it. “I’m sorry. I was on the phone with my mom and I didn’t see you.”

“Clearly.” He deems his eggs satisfactory and returns them to his cart.

“How are you?” I ask, though I don’t know why.

“I’m well. Just doing some shopping before the holiday like everyone else.”

Oh, me? I’m well, thanks for asking. “Thanksgiving dinner at your mom’s as usual?”

A tall, thin red-haired woman struts toward Andrew and wraps her arm around his waist.

“Dinner with Ashley’s family this year,” he says. “Ashley, this is my ex-wife.”

She looks me up and down, and I’m suddenly aware of how frumpy I look. Leggings, fake Uggs, an oversized hoodie, and my hair tied back in a messy ponytail. I didn’t get the memo that must’ve went out about wearing formalwear to Shoprite. Ashley’s in a slinky black dress with a fur coat thrown over her shoulders.

Why don’t we ever run into our exes when we have our hair and make-up done? It’s like one of the laws of physics: An object that looks like trash shall run into everyone she knows while she looks like trash.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I lie.

“Likewise.” Her eyes flick to my boots. “I love your Uggs.”

“They’re not real Uggs,” Andrew says, as if he’d even know the difference. “Raegan only buys knockoffs.”

“Oh, how … thrifty of you.” Ashley giggles and rubs herself against Andrew like a cat.

My cheeks are burning from embarrassment when a deep voice startles me from behind. “Baby, did you get the cranberry sauce for Grandma?”

I whip around, mouth agape, to find Jaxon standing tall in a tight, white thermal shirt and dark jeans. The long-sleeve shirt looks like it’s painted on, clinging to every bulging muscle. His hair is messy and he’s sporting a sexy five o’clock shadow along his jawline.

Maybe I haven’t seen him in a while, but damn he looks good.

“Who’s that?” Ashley whispers to Andrew.

Jaxon flashes his dimpled Colgate smile and extends his hand. “I’m Jaxon.”

Andrew shakes his hand, a crease deep between his brows. “You’re Rae’s new boyfriend?”

Jaxon snakes his arm around my waist. “Well, I wouldn’t call me new.” He brushes his lips against my temple. “Right, Raegan?”

“Uh, right.” How long has it been now, about four seconds?

“My baby here was going through a rough divorce when we met,” Jaxon says. “The jerkoff she was married to took everything from her. Left her with nothing. What kind of prick does that to a woman?” He shakes his head. “The guy was a real piece of shit.”