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“That place is my sisters’ shop. They’re doing a soft opening tonight for friends and family, and I’d love it if you could come along as my plus one.”
“Owen, we agreed that we’re friends.”
“We did. And now, as your friend, I’m asking you on a date to explore the possibility of becoming more than friends.”
“I already told you I can’t date patients.”
“I’m not your patient, remember? Graham is. And I don’t actually give a flying fu—fig—about what’s proper and what’s not. I’m asking you to come with me to eat some delicious fro-yo.”
She winces. “Fine, calm down. I’ll come with you.”
“Good.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Never, ever, again in your whole entire life, call it ’fro yo’ in my presence.”
“So you’re saying I’ll be around for the rest of your life.”
“Don’t push your luck, Owen.”
I leave it at that and watch her walk away in the cut-off shorts, the fringe swaying with every movement of her thick, child-bearing hips.
Damn.
chapter
nine
Owen
First, Daisy tries a small sample bowl of rosemary limoncello frozen yogurt and makes a noise that’s much too sexy for a family establishment.
“Oh my gosh, is there booze in here?” Daisy asks my sister Summer.
She takes another spoonful, her lips wrapping around the spoon suggestively. And then, her eyes rolling back in her head, she moans.
I was not prepared for the woman of my dreams making sex noises at my sister’s frozen yogurt shop.
While I’m trying to will away the tent that I’m pitching in my jeans, my sisters and Daisy get on like a house on fire.
Summer beams with appreciation at Daisy’s enthusiasm. “Yes! Most of the time, it’ll be alcohol-free. The boozy flavors will be reserved for after-hours and special events.”
Harmony sidles up with a small cup of something chocolate. “Daisy! Try this mocha mint Irish creme next. I mean, Doc. Sorry.”
She tries the mocha and does a little dance. My sisters laugh.
“Call me Daisy,” my date says, hugging my sisters. “And by the way, I had no idea this place would have so many fun flavors! What else do you make?”
I didn’t intend for my date to get cozy with my family immediately, but I’m happy to see Daisy loosen up. I love her when she’s buttoned up and professional, but I love this relaxed, friendly version of her, too.
Just one problem: my sisters are now poaching my date for their newfound friendship.
As Daisy and I share a cup of blueberry-vodka-basil frozen yogurt, Summer and Harmony come alongside us and introduce us to their investors: tall, rich-looking hipsters named Cooper and Carter MacKenzie, whose smiles are a little too identical and bright for my comfort. I instantly find them creepy, and I don’t like that one of them, Cooper or Carter — I don’t know which one — shakes Daisy’s hand half a beat longer than they shake mine.
“Where y’all from?” I ask, perhaps laying on the redneck accent a little thick.
