Page 37 of Under Daddy's Spell

“The way he saunters around issuing orders, his levels have to be off the charts. But he’s so easy on the eyes, Tess. I thought the two of you had something going.”

“That was before he showed his true arrogant, he-man colors. He’s completely impossible. No, thank you. We’re through.”

“It’s easy to temper arrogance with hugs, kisses, and sweetness. Look at me!” she spread her arms wide. “That’s how I won my girl.”

“You’re not arrogant.”

“I was the one doing the tempering. It worked like a charm. Now, she has me on a pedestal where I can do no wrong.”

Angie had a string of failed relationships, far worse than Tessa’s losing streak. When she first met Delphina, she was confident it would be another crash-and-burn romance. But they worked it out and, three ecstatic years after saying “I do,” were still over the moon for one another.

Maybe she was on to something.

“I’m happy for you and Delphina, Ang.”

“I want to say the same for you, honey. You’ve put your heart and soul into this shop, and it’s paid off, but you never take time for yourself. When’s the last time you went on a date, and I don’t mean a spur-of-the-moment dinner out with a business acquaintance. That doesn’t count. I’m talking hair and makeup, a new dress, and a night on the town.”

She grimaced, thinking of the last blind date a friend of a friend had set her up with. She’d ended it fifteen minutes in when he hadn’t taken his eyes off his phone long enough to know if she had two heads instead of one. “I hate the dating scene. I’ve yet to find anyone I could stand for more than an hour.”

“You stood Jordan for two hours at the Oyster House.”

“You just said that didn’t count!”

“Yeah, but he’s freaking hot!”

Tessa snorted. “Looks can only take things so far. It’s been downhill for us ever since the fried oyster platter.”

“But you have so much in common.”

Slack-jawed, she stared at Angie. It took several ten-counts before she could ask, “Like what?”

“You’re both entrepreneurs who work long hours and put business ahead of a social life for one.”

“How do you know he doesn’t work his way through every woman in every gym he owns?”

“Because he’s the last to leave nearly every night, and he does it alone, like you.”

“Maybe,” she muttered, moving down the aisle when the bell over her door rang. “But other than work, we’re as distant as Pluto is from the sun. He likes heavy metal, obviously, where I like jazz and soft rock. He’s into fitness and bulking up when I detest salads, don’t mind having curves and a bit of a booty, and would much rather sit quietly and read when I have the time.”

“The music is for his club members, not for him.”

She shot a questioning look over her shoulder.

“He said he’d play something more soothing,” Angie supplied, “but the meatheads don’t think it’s manly.”

She stopped before exiting the aisle and turned to look at her. “How do you know this?”

“I asked him the other day when I went out to lunch. He was sitting under the big shade tree drinking a protein shake with his nose in a paperback.”

“He reads?” She shouldn’t be surprised; they’d discussed their favorite books during dinner at the Oyster House. With all the stress from the sweltering heat, she must have blocked that out.

“Uh-huh. It was a gruesome Grisham novel, but it proves he’s got more between his ears than muscle. I ended up sitting with him and chatting away my entire break. I think with him you get a lot more than you see. If you’d give him a chance, you might like him.”

He could be a Pulitzer prize-winning author for all she cared.

“You can put your matchmaker hat away, Ang. The day Jordan Cooper and I hook up will be the day Mr. Thompson springs for brand-new central heat and air. Which means never.”

“Okay, but as hot as he is, it might be worth putting up with a little alpha male arrogance to get the kisses, the sex, and the spankings.”

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