My Bear practically melts.
I grab a scoop and point it at him like a weapon.
“You want ice cream or a restraining order, Tiger?”
He doesn’t even blink.
“Surprise me, Cookie.”
That’s it.
Inside my brain, I hear alarms going off. Battle drums, too.
Because this?
This means war.
Chapter 7
Hadley
Yep. War.
That’s the only word for it.
Because the moment he calls me Cookie, something deep inside me—something large and furry and very interested—rolls over and purrs like it just found the world’s biggest jar of honey.
Absolutely not.
I plant the scoop down on the counter like a judge banging a gavel.
“You do realize,” I say slowly, “that you just walked into my shop, claimed me like a parking spot, and are now flirting with a woman who makes dessert for a living.”
Rob doesn’t even blink.
“Yes.”
Reg loses it behind him.
“Oh man,” he wheezes. “He’s already doomed.”
Gretchen smacks his arm.
“Reg, stop encouraging him.”
“I’m not encouraging him,” Reg says. “I’m enjoying the show.”
Tommy leans on the counter like he’s watching live television.
I point the scoop at him.
“You’re supposed to be working.”
“I am,” he says solemnly. “I’m observing the mating ritual.”
I gasp.
“There is no mating ritual!”
