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“Why are you lying? Is it the psychosis you mentioned?”
This is so unexpected that I burst out laughing, earning me my first genuine smile from the cutest MacKenzie twin. God, which one is he? Cooper or Carter? He looks like a Carter, but I don’t know why.
“I twisted my ankle, but I’ll ice it later. I am totally fine.”
He grunts skeptically but then turns his attention to the dessert.
The man dips his spoon into it, then slowly—too slowly—puts his lips around the spoonful. My sister Harmony and I spent months perfecting with different ratios of yogurt and sugar and flavor, pored over recipes, and tested every bite. And this man is here making it look like we made porn in the form of dessert.
The groan from this man is far too erotic for a business expo.
I go with it because we’re all adults here.
I ignore my flush of schoolgirl giddiness and say with utmost confidence, “It’s better than sex, right?”
Without missing a beat, the rumpled, bespectacled man replies, “I haven’t had enough of a random sampling, so I wouldn’t know.”
Was that another joke?
“That’s funny,” I snort.
“Uh,” is his reply, stalling as he waits for the right words.
Instead, he turns and walks away, leaving me shaken, stirred, and in need of an ice-cold shower.
chapter
three
Carter
Was I temporarily possessed by the spirit of a horny teenage virgin?
That’s what I sounded like when talking to Summer.
I shamble unsteadily back to my booth with what remains of my encounter with that gorgeous woman: a little cup that reads “The Little Spoon,” full of the most delicious frozen treat I’ve ever tasted. Fruity, sexy and refreshing.
But it’s all meaningless because I didn’t even offer her a deal. I am the witless, charmless wonder.
As I kick myself for making dumb comments and staring like a serial killer, Cooper strides alongside me and yammers away. “I think we should give Little Spoon all our backing, right now,” he says.
Any other day, I would try to bring Cooper back down to earth.
Instead, I blurt, “I think we should invite them over for dinner.”
Cooper steps back from me, then cuts his eyes to the dessert cup I’m holding. “Who are you right now? Did they put crazy pills in the fro-yo?”
I gesture with the spoon and speak with my mouth full like an unmannered ape. “Have you tried this?”
“Yeah, it’s really friggin’ good,” Cooper says. “But it’s a terrible business idea.”
“Awful. Ridiculous to open a brick-and-mortar gourmet dessert store in this economy,” I say. “And I think we should go all in.”
“Glad you and I are on the same page for once, brother,” Cooper says.
“It’s too loud in here to hammer out the terms,” I add, glaring at the echoing crowd. “We should invite them over.”
Cooper narrows his eyes at me. I wonder if he’s about to examine me for a concussion. “You’re talking about a totally professional scenario, right?” Cooper asks.
