“So you had concerns before you went to Beau?” she asked.
“Yes and no.” Cutter glanced at the shop and said, “How many times did I walk in on you and Birdie role-playing so you could be calm, cool, and collected when you saw your old flame?”
“Dozens. It didn’t work,” she said with a smile. “I got so flustered that I told him you and I were dating, until you started dirty dancing with Sable, and that lie went to crap.”
“No shit? I wish I could have heard you trying to get out of that.” He shook his head and said, “I knew all that planning and role-playing wouldn’t work. I don’t know much about love, but I do know this. You told me Zev had broken your heart, but every time you talked about him, you got this look in your eyes, like…” He shrugged. “I don’t know what that look was exactly, but it told me you weren’t over him. So when Char said she and Beau were getting married, I went to see Beau. I told him that if he had any inclination that Zev would cause an ounce of trouble for you, I needed to know. I would have found a way to make sure you didn’t go to that wedding. But I trust Beau, and he told me where he thought Zev’s head had been all these years, which put my mind at ease.”
“You did that for me?”
“I’d do anything for you, darlin’. You’re family.”
“Aw, I love knowing that. Thank you. What did Beau say to you?” she asked as a group of pretty women approached the table.
“Guy code. Can’t talk about it. All that matters is that he was right.” Cutter winked and picked up the sample tray, turning his attention to the women who were ogling him in his tight jeans and cowboy hat. “Howdy, ladies. What’s your pleasure?”
If only Beau had the answers she needed right now.
THE TABLE WAS three customers deep for the rest of Carly’s shift, giving her little time to think about anything but the people peppering her with questions. She was thankful for Cutter’s help with the customers, even if he did seem to be using her confections like a dating app. Women had offered him their phone numbers, Tinder account names, and one even offered to be his dessert. She had no idea there were so many forthright, horny women in their small town, and she was thankful when the crowds finally died down.
“That’s fascinating,” Carly said to a middle-aged man who was going on about his great-aunt who owned a chocolate shop in Paris. She was trying not to think about her phone vibrating in her pocket. It had been vibrating on and off like she was a drug dealer for the last couple of hours.
Quinn came out of the shop carrying a tray of fudge samples, and her expression brightened when she saw Cutter. She stood up a little taller, walked a little slinkier in her tight black Divine Intervention tank top, which was knotted a good two inches above the waist of her soft gray miniskirt. “Cutter? I didn’t know you were helping,” she said as she set the tray on the table.
Cutter dragged his eyes appreciatively down her body, all the way to the leather straps wound around her calves from her high-heeled sandals.
“This is when you speak,” Carly said, nudging Cutter as the long-winded customer headed inside to check out the rest of their treats.
Cutter half coughed, half cleared his throat and said, “I was just helping Carly.”
Quinn was too smart for that. She looked at the women standing on Cutter’s side of the table and said, “Everyone comes out for the hot cowboy. Just don’t try to take my job. I’m next in line for more hours.”
“I’ll hire you,” a buxom blonde said as she eyed Cutter.
Quinn put her hand on her hip, flashing the sweetest of smiles, the one that brought men to their knees, and said, “What kind of work do you have in mind for him?”
“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something,” the blonde said. “I have a few items that need fixing around my house.”
“That’s good, because he’s great with his hands. But if you need a man who can work long hours, his staying power leaves a little to be desired.” Quinn picked up the sample tray and held it out to her. “Taste?”