Page 103 of Men or Paws

How in the world we were going to get anywhere in our relationship if neither of us was able to make a move?

When Beth started going the wrong way, I reached for her hand and pulled her in the opposite direction. “This way to the best meal you ever had, princess.”

“Princess? That’s a stretch.” Beth laughed, glancing down at our intertwined fingers, then suddenly pulling her hand free from mine. “Oh, no.”

“What happened?” I asked. “Don’t tell me I gave you cooties.”

Beth ignored my attempt at some light humor. “I’m almost positive I just saw someone take a photo of us holding hands.”

“So what?” I said, shrugging.

“You don’t care? What if it goes viral or ends up in the tabloids?”

I laughed. “What are they going to say? Rocco Romano was spotted at the farmers’ market holding hands with a beautiful woman? Oooh, so scandalous.”

“I’m serious,” Beth said. “The tabloids can be cruel sometimes. How do celebrities even handle it?”

“By either ignoring it or laughing it off. Now, do you want to be my alien, robot lover who’s carrying my three-headed baby or not?”

Beth laughed, which was a good sign. “I’ll think about it after we eat.”

“Well then, let’s get some food because I’m dying to find out,” I said, grinning.

We walked past the produce section, the french bread and pastries booth, the smoothies, and the popular barbecue food truck, stopping at the back of a long line.

Beth looked around, then glanced past the people toward the booth with the Spanish flag at the end of the aisle. “All these people are waiting for the paella?”

I nodded. “Not just any paella. We are talking about the best paella in the country. Don’t worry, it’s worth the wait.”

“Look, mom! It’s Captain Clapton!” a little boy said, dragging his mom by the hand toward us, then tugging on my shirt. “You’re my favorite superhero.”

“Yeah?” I smiled and bent down to his level. “Well, thank you, that means a lot to me.”

“You’re really nice because you save people’s lives. I wanna save lives when I’m older.”

“Really? You’re going to be a superhero?”

The boy shook his head. “No. Mommy says I can be a doctor, because superheroes don’t make money.”

I laughed, then glanced up at his mom. “Well, she does have a very good point.”

The boy’s mom wrinkled her nose. “I hate asking, but do you mind if I get a picture of the two of you together?”

I waved her off. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” she said, pulling the phone from her purse and aiming it toward us.

“Hey, I have an idea.” I stuck my arm straight out to my side until it was parallel to the ground. “Hang on with both hands and don’t let go.”

“Cool!” The boy latched onto my arm and held on tight.

“Here we go!” I grunted as I lifted him in the air, surprised at how heavy he was.

The boy laughed as he hung from my arm.

“This is adorable,” the mom said, snapping a picture. “Thank you so much.”

I lowered the boy just in time since my arm was starting to cramp up. “You’re welcome.”