“I’m not either,” he tells me. “But you can always come back. We can always come back.”

“Seriously?” I grin, pushing my hair back. “You’re ready to take another trip with me so soon?”

“Who else is going to haggle over lettuce for me?”

“I can show you how,” I say, pretending to deliberate over the serious matter. “Though it might depend on the person you’re bargaining with. It just works a lot better if they’re attracted to you. That way, all you have to do is look at them like this …” I spin around and angle my face so I’m gazing up at him under my lashes. “And lower your voice. Lean over and pout a bit … Trust me, it’s very persuasive.”

He stares back at me, his eyes wide and almost dazed.

“Don’t you agree?” I add, leaning close, the words whispered against the shell of his ear.

I hear his sharp inhale.

I’m laughing as I pull away, delighted and nearly lightheaded to know the effect I have on him, to see the blush rubbing off his complexion like smeared lipstick.

He still looks half-drunk when he catches my wrist and tugs me close to him again. Some of my laughter dissolves at the heated, intense look in his gaze. “You know, I’ve had fantasies about this,” he murmurs.

“About being taught how to flirt your way into getting cheaper vegetables?” I ask. I’m fighting with every muscle in my body to maintain my composure, but I sound breathless, even to myself. I sound like I’m asking him to kiss me without speaking the words aloud. “You should’ve told me earlier. I’d be happy to teach you in more depth.”

“About you,” he says, swallowing. “About being next to you.”

“And? Do I live up to your fantasy?” I say it teasingly, yet my heart thuds as I wait for his answer. I never have in the past. For every guy who’s claimed to like me, I was just something nice for them to think about, my eyes and my hips and my legs, prettier on posters and in magazines than in real life. Of course they all noticed me. Of course they all left in the end.