And her husband, Mark, thought every woman within a five-mile radius was secretly in love with him.
Mark was our neighborhood’s self-appointed heartthrob. The muffins were wonderful. Mark was exhausting.
When I first arrived, he offered to carry my groceries.
“Careful,” he announced, lifting two bags. “The neighborhood doesn’t usually get this much muscle for free.”
I smiled politely. One bag contained bread. The other contained paper towels.
He flexed anyway.
Linda appeared on their porch.
“Mark, could you bring in our groceries too?”
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