Page 18 of One Sweet Match Up

Talk about a fish out of water. Donovan couldn’t help but chuckle, picturing Will trying to help customers pick out their wedding dresses because his mom owned the Belle Bridal Boutique. He straightened, watching Will detour straight into the Ice Heaven.

Given that it was ten degrees outside, he suspected the man was in the mood for something more than frozen yogurt.

He continued to eat his burger. As the minutes ticked by, he grew more and more annoyed. His gaze finally fell back on the front entrance of the Ice Heaven. What was going on in there? Was his buddy making a play for Zoe?

Donovan sprang up. Not if he could help it. He took his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash to pay for his lunch, handing the bills to Betty on his way out.

“Do you want your change?” the waitress asked, staring down at the large bills in her hand.

“It’s all yours, Betty. Thanks for remembering how I like my fries.” He kissed her cheek and bolted for the door. If Betty was right and Zoe’s heart was fragile, there was no way he’d let his Casanova friend near it.

5

Zoe laidthe deep lavender bag on the counter and studied its intricate beading. She’d found its silver loop chain strap tied to her shop’s front door when she arrived to work.

Her fingertips brushed over the delicate pearl beads, resting on the soft satin. Who would have left such an exquisite item outside to be taken by anyone?

That was the million-dollar question.

She’d checked inside it this morning to see if it contained a wallet with a driver’s license or credit card to identify the owner, but no luck.

Pressing her thumb to unhook the silver clasp, she felt around inside one last time. Definitely empty.

It was a nice purse as far as she was concerned and perfect for a formal occasion. A bit rectangular, though, so maybe not completely appropriate for a party. Still, it could definitely hold a number of objects. Strange that it was completely empty.

Maybe it didn’t belong to anyone. Perhaps someone left it for her—although, it wasn’t her birthday or any special occasion. Both Christmas and Valentine’s Day had both long passed. The only one who maybe would send her a gift was her dad, but he was more the gift card or money type of father. Sentimental giving wasn’t his thing.

She put down the purse and scratched over her heart, feeling the familiar sadness that often pinged her lately, reminding her that she was alone here in Buttermilk Falls. The fact was she hadn’t really made any close friends in this town who would leave a present for her for any reason.

The door chimes went off, and she looked up. Had the owner come back for her purse?

A suit-wearing Will in a black wool coat sauntered up to the counter, grinning ear to ear. No, definitely not the owner. “Hey, Will,” she greeted him, moving the purse off to the side. She could work on solving that mystery later. She finally had a customer.

“Hi, Zoe.” He straightened his emerald green tie and leaned against the counter, his thick cologne circling her air, bringing up a cough. It wasn’t that he didn’t smell great, because he did, but whatever he was wearing, it was pretty powerful.

She preferred a lighter, spicy scent.

. . . with a hint of sauce.

. . . sauce made from scratch.

Stop it. She refused to surrender once again to the memory of the night of the blizzard that had boldly taken her thoughts hostage for the last few days. Yeah, she’d noticed Donovan had smelled and tasted like all of those wonderfully delicious things when she’d thrown herself at him.

She couldn’t explain what had come over her, but when he’d suggested they kiss, she didn’t need him to ask her twice.

And his lips on hers had been like tasting for the first time the final result of a new frozen yogurt recipe she’d worked tirelessly perfecting.

Satisfying, amazing, and delicious.

Though far less cold. She bit down a smile. No. She hadn’t been cold with his perfect warm mouth folding over hers.

The next day, she’d convinced herself it was a combination of all the wine she’d downed and the desire not to see Will’s name in the batter that had gotten her riled up. Kissing Donovan had nothing to do with the chef’s yummy scent . . . or the sexy stubble on his chin . . . or his full lips . . . or the way he’d wrapped his arms around her, his strong hands taking her in close . . . sliding up her back . . .

Nothing at all.

Enough!She needed to delete their kiss from playing a continuous loop in her head. What she needed to do was focus on the fact that she’d been incredibly lucky after their spending hours together that he hadn’t recognized her. That would have created a different kind of storm inside the bakery.

Besides, hot kiss or not, he was still the jerk who had fired her.

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