Page 17 of One Sweet Match Up

She’s not the woman for me.Glad that’s settled. Move on.He leaned back in the booth as Betty set his plate and shake in front of him, the large burger oozing with its signature blue cheese.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he said to the BBB Burger before attacking it with both hands. His thoughts continued to rationalize why he and Zoe would never work out.

What he really needed was to get his ass in gear and figure out how he was going to make a living. Adding a woman into the mix—even one as beautiful as Zoe—wasn’t a good idea.

Sure, he’d thought he’d wanted to settle down, but that was only because everyone close to him here had. He reached for a French fry and popped it into his mouth, chasing it with a long sip of the thick vanilla shake. He’d adjust his plan, that’s all.

He didn’t need a relationship.

Zoe’s adorable laugh filled his defiant head.

Okay, sure. He wouldn’t mind hearing it again. So, they wouldn’t move into a relationship. There was nothing preventing them from hanging out. Maybe they could share a meal. He could cook for her again. Women loved his homemade meatloaf.

He grunted, ready to give himself a whopper of a head slap. Hanging out was predicated on Zoe actually wanting to spend time with him. He wasn’t sure she did.

Yeah, their kiss was hot, but the blue spoon breaking sort of killed the mood. That night, she didn’t make one overture to continue what they’d been doing before the dramatic interruption.

Damn spoon.

They’d spent the rest of their time trapped in the Sugar Spoon, lying in a booth across from each other and dissecting how it could have broken until Zoe drifted to sleep.

And that summed up the evening.

Well, almost. He reached in his back pocket for his wallet, pulling out the folded cream notecard.

He didn’t need to read its contents. He knew them by heart. Still, he opened it, staring at the instructions addressed to him.

Donovan, Soup’s up. XX, Mary

Yep, he’d gotten his own personal correspondence from the infamous Mary Reed.

The infamous deceased Mary Reed.

But what the hell did it mean?Soup’s up?Did she want him to make soup? For what purpose?

He’d nonchalantly placed the card in his back pocket the night of the blizzard because he didn’t want to tip his hand to a frightened Zoe that the card—that appeared out of nowhere—was for him. The last thing he wanted to do was chase her down the street in the snow, which he was pretty sure would have been the outcome if he’d revealed what the card had said. So, instead, he’d put on a poker face and pretended it wasn’t a big deal.

He’d showed it to Adam a few days ago, hoping his pal could shed some light, but that didn’t happen. The only thing Adam did was slap Donovan on the back, and said, “Welcome to the Mary Wants to Mess with You club.”

Donovan reached for his shake, taking a sip. Not a club he wanted to belong to. He folded the notecard and returned it to his wallet.

“Hey, Sugar. Here’s some special sauce you always liked for your fries.” Betty winked and set down in front of him a small bowl full of a mixture of ketchup and mayonnaise because he’d requested it every time his parents brought him here as a kid. Mostly to annoy his twin who thought it was disgusting, but damn the dip always tasted good. “Betty, you remembered.”

“I remember lots, Toots.” She slid in the booth next to him, propping her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hand, her bright red lips pursed and ready to chat. “So, how are you settling back into small-town life? You keeping busy?”

He dipped a fry into the mixture and popped it into his mouth, enjoying the tangy taste. “I think I’m getting into the groove. Things are slow. I forgot how uneventful this place can be in the winter.”

Betty nodded. “No doubt about it. Although . . .” She leaned forward, her voice low with a hint of amusement. “I hear you were trapped in the Sugar Spoon bakery for hours with Zoe Mathews during the blizzard. That doesn’t happen every snowstorm.”

Man, the one thing he hadn’t missed was small-town gossip. The Spring Curls salon would have had a field day with all the women he often brought home. “Zoe was on her best behavior,” he joked.

That got a sarcastic laugh out of Betty as she got up to wait on a couple that had entered the diner. “Don’t go breaking her heart.” She scrunched her nose, adding, “I think it might be fragile to begin with.”

Donovan tilted his head.Fragile.What did Betty mean by that? Who’d broken Zoe’s heart? Was it some guy back in Denwood?

And where the hell was Denwood?

He pondered that with another coated fry and glanced out the window, catching Will crossing the street. The popular mechanic had traded his overalls recently to run his mother’s shop while she was taking care of his dad in Florida.

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