Page 92 of Drowning in Darkness

I locate the Chunky Monkey and add a tub of Cookie Dough and Strawberries and Cream to my arms. You can’t have too much ice cream.

“You’ve got a lot here. I’ll get my son to help you out,” the guy says.

“Sure.”

“Robert, get your ass out here and earn your keep.”

“Coming,” a guy growls from the dark room behind the counter.

I glide closer, noticing that James is tracking me in the mirror lodged on the wall behind the counter.

“You found anything you want to add, sweetheart?”

The older guy eyes me with interest, his gaze flicking to my hat and back to James. “Who is this lovely lady?”

“My sister.”

I wrinkle my nose. There’s nothing sibling-like in the way I feel about this man.

“Can you open the truck for me?” he asks, dangling the keys in his hand.

I drop the ice cream on the counter and grin at him. “Sure thing, bro.”

He narrows his eyes as I give him my biggest shit-eating grin. You set yourself up, buddy. None of what happens next is my doing.

A dude with the same green eyes as the store owner appears. Jesus, he looks like he lifts trucks for shits and giggles. That T-shirt is doing its best to hold on tight to his straining muscles. He nods once at James before scanning me with an interest that is most definitely not sibling-like.

“Help Jason to the truck with that big order in the back.”

“That’s okay, I got it,” James decides.

“Nonsense. By the time you’ve signed and paid, he can have you loaded and ready to go.”

I can practically see the internal war taking place in James’s mind as weighs up the fact he could have us back at the lodge in a fraction of the time if he accepts the help.

“Fine.”

The dude scoops up three boxes and several packages with ease.

“Lead the way,” he growls at Jason.

I dangle the keys. “It’s me you’re following, big guy.” I don’t wait for the look of frustration I know James will be wearing as I waltz out of the store and into the parking lot.

“Not seen you around before,” he says, never losing that gravelly tone.

I pop the trunk and stand to the side. “Just visiting.”

He places the first load inside. “Long enough to partake in a little fun?”

Hopefully, but not with him. “Undecided.”

“How can I help you decide?”

Well, he’s forward. While I can appreciate that, he needs to get the hint. I’m not playing hard to get over here. “You can’t. I’m my own woman.”

“I’m sure you are. But if you stay, I can recommend Stacie’s on a Friday night. The wings are to die for, and the dance floor was made for the boots I’m sure you own along with that hat.”

He’s smooth but not subtle. “Not my hat.”