Her face falls. "Oh. Right. Of course not. You probably eat raw eggs and protein powder."
"And the souls of my enemies."
She blinks. Then giggles like this is funny. "Well, I don't sell those, but I do make sugar-free gummy bears?"
"Pass." I lean back, the chair creaks ominously. "New story. I came into your shop looking for a gift."
"For who?"
"My niece. Lives in Calgary."
"Perfect!" She pulls out a pink notebook covered in stickers. "So you came in looking for candy for your niece. When?"
"Two months ago. December."
"And I helped you pick out... hmm... English toffee and maple fudge."
"Fine."
She scribbles notes. "And you asked me out because...?"
I look at her properly—chaos incarnate with chocolate on her dress, glitter on her face, notebook covered in cartoon stickers. Soft and sweet where I'm hard and bitter.
"Because you were wearing reindeer antlers and singing Christmas carols to yourself while you wrapped the box. It was endearing."
She stops writing. "That's sweet."
"It's believable. You seem like someone who'd wear reindeer antlers unironically."
"I do! I mean, I did! They lit up!" She's excited now. "This could work. We've been dating two months. You're protective and grumpy but secretly sweet. I'm sunshine and chaos but I make you laugh."
"I don't laugh."
"You will. I'm very funny." She's serious about this. "Oh! Pet names. All couples have them. I'll call you... Bear? Because you're gruff and large?"
"Absolutely not."
"John-y?"
"I have killed people."
She doesn't even flinch. "Fine, Mr. Grumpy. What will you call me?"
I look at her again: pink dress, space buns, literal bunny on her apron that's peeking out of her bag. Plus those soft curves that make her look like the kind of woman you'd want to grab onto. "Bunny seems accurate."
"That's already my name!"
"Little Bunny then."
Something flashes in her eyes. Her cheeks go pinker. "That's... yeah. That works."
Interesting reaction.
"We should practice being couple-y. Can you come to my shop tomorrow? After closing? Six PM?"
"Why your shop?"
"Because Patricia sometimes goes to the lodge for yoga. If she sees us practicing being romantic, the jig is up."
