Then he takes a lick with his stupid long tongue.
Three seconds pass.
Four.
Five.
His eyes widen.
Then water.
Just a little.
But I see it.
Victory is mine.
Only he goes in for another lick, and another.
“Oh, wow,” he growls and grins. “This ice cream sure has a kick, Cookie. Compliments to the chef.”
I frown.
Tommy doubles over laughing.
“Boss, this guy is brutal!”
I lean on the counter, tapping my short nails against the glass.
“Well, I’ll have to work on surprising you next time.”
“Glad you know there’ll be a next time,” Rob replies, and that stupid, sexy growl of his rumbles deep in his throat.
His Tiger is staring at me through those deep sea blue eyes. And the man just smiles at me.
Actually smiles.
A real one.
Slow.
Sexy.
Dangerous.
“I was speaking metaphorically.”
“And we both know better,” he says and takes another lick, moaning as he does.
“Mmm, well played, Cookie. Well played.”
He takes a bite of the cone next because apparently he’s stubborn enough to finish the whole damn thing in five licks or less.
No one has ever managed that.
Reg claps.
“Oh yeah. He’s a goner, Gretch. Just look at him!”
