“Bite four.”
He glared at me.
I grinned.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, which was weird. I didn’t do comfortable with strange men. Especially not men who looked like they belonged on magazine covers.
He glanced around the shop. “You did all this yourself?”
I nodded. “Mostly.”
His gaze moved over the mural. The lights. The tables. The display freezer. “It looks good.”
Simple words.
No fanfare.
No fake enthusiasm.
And somehow they meant more because of it.
“Thanks.” I glanced around. “I was terrified nobody would come.”
“They came.”
“They did.”
“Proud of yourself?”
The question caught me off guard.
I looked around Scoop & Swirl and a smile spread across my face. “Yeah,” I admitted. “I am.”
He nodded, and then he scraped up the last bite of ice cream. Apparently, I’d been talking long enough for him to finish the whole thing.
He set the spoon down. “I should get back.”
I blinked. Right. Of course.
He turned toward the door, then stopped. “I’m Rome. I own Bad Habit across the street.”
The name fit him. Of course it did.
“Josie.”
“I know.”
I frowned. “You do?”
He jerked his chin toward the giant banner hanging in the front window.
GRAND OPENING
SCOOP & SWIRL
OWNER: JOSIE JENSEN
Heat crept up my neck. “Oh.”
