Page 80 of Under Daddy's Spell

Hours later, here she was still humming it and smiling.

“You’re in a good mood,” Angie observed. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the hunk next door and the lip-lock he gave you this morning? If 11:59 still qualifies as morning.”

Tessa had her head in the refrigerator, doing the weekly purge of anything outdated. She knew her friend was teasing from the amusement in her voice.

“A minute before noon is still morning, technically,” she informed her, as she backed out with three open cartons of cream, all half empty. How did that keep happening? She was about to ask, but the words escaped her when she raised up too soon and conked her head on the shelf above her.

She didn’t see stars, but it wasn’t the first time it happened, and in the same spot.

Hissing in pain, she shoved the cream back in and cradled the already tender bump on her head with both hands.

Angie’s rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the tile as she rushed over. “That was a harder knock than the last one. You okay, Tess?” she inquired. “Need an ice pack?”

“No,” she moaned. “I’ll live.”

Abandoning the task until she could get a helmet, Tessa climbed slowly to her feet. When she didn’t get dizzy, she figured she hadn’t bruised her brain this time, either.

“Since there’s no blood, and you’re still conscious—”

“Thanks for your concern,” Tessa muttered, checking her fingers to make sure she was right about the blood.

Angie and her one-track mind went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Give me details about your dinner, and morning-after with Coop. You’re getting along better, obviously.”

“We’re working it out,” she said with a smile. “But I deliberately had him drop me off in the employee lot. What were you doing out there in the middle of the lunch rush?”

“I wasn’t. Mrs. Jernigan was. She couldn’t get in here fast enough to tell about it, including how Jord-i-licious must be an ass man because his hands were all over yours.”

“Eighty-four-year-old Mrs. Jernigan, the former nun, said ass man?”

“Yep, and she did it with a big, sappy grin on her face.” Angie patted her shoulder. “She was happy for you, Tessa. No harm in that. But if you’re going to make out in front of a woman who once took religious vows, that’s between you”—she pointed toward the ceiling with her mixing spoon—“and the man upstairs.”

Tessa sighed and rested her head against the stainless-steel refrigerator, hoping the coolness would help with her budding headache.

“I’m teasing,” Angie assured her. “You’re both adults and can do what you want, where you want. It’s not like you were making out in broad daylight while naked.” She paused from pouring sugar into a measuring cup and glanced over. “You had your clothes on, didn’t you?”

“Of course. As we already confirmed, it was the middle of the day in the middle of a parking lot, the ones directly behind our businesses, I might add.”

“Okay, then,” she said with a shrug. “No laws seemed to have been broken, so why do you care who knows you and Jordan are a thing?”

A regular for four years, Betsy Jernigan was a romance junkie. Her monthly book budget was more than some people spent on rent. She preordered all the newest releases from all the bestselling romance authors as soon as they were announced. If they were lucky enough to have a book signing at the store, Betsy was the first in line. She was the best customer Tessa ever had. She was also a busybody and an extreme gossiper who would blab what she had seen in the back lot to strangers on the street.

Not that she and Jordan were hiding being together from anyone. She simply didn’t want everyone in the strip mall knowing her business. Things were on track for them now, and she didn’t want to consider it happening, but things had gone south for them once already, and fast. If it didn’t work out between them, she didn’t want the questions, whispers, or pitying looks.

It hadn’t been two weeks, their first actual date wasn’t until tomorrow, and the dynamic between them differed from what she was used to, which was putting it mildly. She might be overreacting, but she didn’t want anything mucking things up for them, or anyone, including Betsy Jernigan and her gossip.

“Thanks for helping me out,” Angie said as she pulled cracked eggs into a mixing bowl. “Since it’s bearable in here again, and the crowds have returned, I haven’t had time to do the restock or the purge, much less the weekly and monthly cleaning checklists.”

“No problem. Martha was happy to get the extra hours.” Needing a break from her refrigerator purge, Tessa grabbed a bottled water from the drink cooler and leaned against it. “Except for the bumps on the head, it’s a welcome change from sorting books and ladder climbing.”

“I bet. It’s gotta be a killer workout for your legs though,” Angie replied as she squatted in front of the spice cupboard to get what she needed for her next baking masterpiece.

Seeing her there jogged Tessa’s memory.

“I forgot to mention I used the last of your coriander the other day.”

There was a long pause before Angie twisted and looked up at her. “You baked?”

“Don’t sound so shocked. I’m not a complete disaster in the kitchen.”

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