“Stop saying that.”
You know it’s true.
“This isn’t going to be easy,” I mutter.
And I feel like a damn stalker standing out here watching her.
“Bro, you want some ice cream or something?”
I nearly jump out of my skin.
Reg and Gretchen appear beside me like they teleported.
“What?” I bark.
“Agatha’s has the best,” Gretchen says immediately, eyes sparkling.
My sister-in-law looks way too pleased with herself.
I scowl.
“Nah, I’m good.”
Reg snorts.
“You’ve been staring at the shop for nine full minutes.”
“I have not.”
“You absolutely have.”
Before I can finish telling them both to go to hell, something strange happens.
My feet move.
I’m not kidding.
One second I’m standing on the sidewalk.
The next I’m walking toward the shop like someone tied a rope around my waist and started pulling.
My Tiger is thrilled.
Mate.
“Shut up.”
The closer I get to the door, the stronger the pull becomes.
Fuck.
She’s close.
The bell jingles when we step inside.
Cold air and sugar hit me all at once.
The place smells like waffle cones, sprinkles, and strawberries.
