“Shut up,” Rob mutters.
I wipe the counter, pretending not to watch him finish the entire cone like it’s a challenge issued by destiny itself.
When he’s done, he sets the empty cone holder down carefully.
Then he leans forward.
Close.
Too close.
I can smell pine and sun and something dark and delicious on him.
Caramel and dark chocolate—my favorite.
“You know,” he says quietly, “you’re the first woman who’s ever tried to kill me with ice cream.”
“I wasn’t trying very hard.”
He grins.
“That’s okay.”
His voice drops a little.
“I like a challenge.”
My heart does a very stupid little flip.
I grab another cone just so my hands have something to do.
“Well, you’re going to need a little reality with that attitude,” I say briskly. “Because, like I said before?—”
“I know,” he interrupts.
“You don’t want a mate.”
“That’s right,” I agree, ignoring the sad whine of my Sow.
“And I don’t want a mate, either.”
His eyes gleam.
“But your Bear does. And so does my Tiger.”
My scoop freezes mid-air.
Tommy gasps like someone just dropped gossip gold.
Reg looks delighted.
I recover instantly.
“My Bear,” I say primly, “has terrible judgment.”
Rob chuckles.
“Good.”
