Page 20 of Too Delicious

Cooper leans on the rake and smiles. “It’s warm today.”

“I’m well aware of how warm it is.”

“Okay, I guess you want me to suffer from heat stroke.”

“You won’t suffer from heat stroke in the middle of September.”

“It’s supposed to get up to 83 degrees.”

I roll my eyes. “Drama queen.”

“It’s part of my charm,” he says with a grin.

I huff, “But it’s a work day. Do you not have a regular job to go to?”

He looks at me like I ought to know better. As if we both know good and well how he spends his time.

“You are my job.”

A rush of pleasure runs through me. I blink rapidly to hide the shocked expression. “You mean Little Spoon is your job. And we have employees for that. Don’t you have, like, other investments to oversee?”

The toothy grin is too much. “Do you want me to leave you alone to find other people to invest in?”

He has my number, and I hate it.

God, what are we arguing about?

I try to be subtle as I draw in a long, steadying breath, staring eye level with his glistening chest, ignoring the way it rises and falls, becoming impossibly broader with each rise.

I blink up at him slowly. “I want you to do whatever you want with your time, Cooper.”

I gently snatch the jar from his grip and spin around, heading back up the wooden steps, disappearing into the house to prepare for the school day, moving swiftly so he won’t notice the shiver in my shoulders.

chapter

nine

Cooper

Harmony walks down the street like a wispy cloud, her ruffled skirt swishing in the breeze.

From the metal box she pays a dollar for the daily newspaper. I silently scoff. “She’d save money if she just subscribed to the paper,” I mutter. Oh crap, I sound like an old man. Actually, I sound like my brother.

Hell, if Harmony would allow me to be more to her than just a silent partner, she wouldn’t have to pay for a damn thing.

She wouldn’t have to work herself to the bone Monday through Friday as a teacher’s aide, then spend all weekend working at Little Spoon, that’s for sure.

But Harmony has her boundaries. I don’t like them, but I have to respect them.

So I sit in my car with the windows rolled down, making the best of this beautiful September day, and enjoy my coffee and the view.

My chest aches when Harmony holds open the door of the metal box and grabs a second paper, then hands it to an old man walking up.

“Thank you kindly,” he says.

“Come back later for a treat, on me,” she tells him.

The September breeze blows a lock of hair into her face. She smiles at the man as she tucks it behind her ear. God, she’s the purest angel.

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