Maybe I’m more like Beck than I realized.

“Yes!” Norrie squealed with happiness. “Can I, Momma? Please! Please!”

Kenna cast Brook Lynn a grateful smile. “I think that would be wonderful.”

“Sweet!” the girl said, jumping up and down.

The bell chimed a third time, and in stepped Charlene Burns.

She set her sunglasses on top of her head, saying, “I could use a moment alone with Brook Lynn, y’all.”

Kenna waited for Brook Lynn’s nod of approval. Which she gave. Reluctantly.

“Well, okay, then. I guess this is where we say goodbye.” Kenna shot Brook Lynn a sympathetic look before departing with her family.

“So,” Charlene said, resting her elbows on the counter.

“So. How can I help you?”

“I just wanted to make sure Beck got those muffins I baked him.”

I think you mean bought him. “He sure did. He even said something about all these strawberries making the girls here taste just as sweet. Doesn’t that make you think strawberries are his favorite fruit?” Brook Lynn added, tracing her fingertips over a strawberry pendant. She desperately needed to make a sale today.

Charlene brightened. “I have a collection of Edna’s finest at home. I’ll wear—”

Brook Lynn tried to look as horrified as possible. “You’re thinking about wearing last year’s fashion? Are you sure— No, no, I’m, uh, sure that’ll be fine. The other girls who came over with treats for Beck will probably wear last year’s fashion, too.”

“Other girls brought him treats? Who? You tell me right this second.”

“I’m not going to name names and start a catfight when I don’t even know which of you Beck wants. But if you stick around the store long enough, some of them might just arrive to buy jewelry, hoping to impress him.” Not a lie. They might.

Feminine calculation gleamed in Charlene’s hazel eyes. She bought every item with a strawberry. She would never wear them all, but this way, no other woman would be wearing them, either.

Brook Lynn floated on clouds of happiness the rest of her shift—or would have, if not for her ears—creating new pieces for the display cases. When the bell over the door rang again, she glanced up, expecting Brad—and almost snapped off a finger instead of a wire. Jase had just entered the store.

Reeling.

As usual, he looked good. Dangerous and good, as if he’d just stepped from a boxing ring... No, scratch that. As if he’d just come from an illegal street brawl, his dark hair mussed, his emerald eyes bright and gleaming from the high levels of testosterone pumping through his system. A man on the prowl, searching for a willing woman to satisfy.

She set the needle-nose pliers aside. “What are you doing here?”

He waved a piece of paper at her, his biceps flexing. “I have your new list.”

Her heart rate picked up speed as she read over what appeared to be a shopping list. Or rather, tried to read over it. Her eyes would not move past number two, her cheeks heating. “Beer. Condoms,” she said, peering at him through the thick shield of her lashes.

“Ex-large,” he said with a nod. “Maybe ribbed for her pleasure. I’ll let you decide.”

The bottom dropped out of her stomach. “Is there a specific her in mind?”

“Just consider that a collective her.”

“I see.” She tried to contain her blush as she ticked off another item on the list—and failed. “Hemorrhoid cream? Seriously?”

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, honey, but sometimes you can be a major pain in the ass.”

Well played, Mr. Hollister. Well played. Clearly he was having fun.

Fun. Again. And at her expense. Well, not anymore.

It’s my turn, she thought, mentally adding an item to her own list. She’d turn the tables on him. Starting now.

“Personal lubricant?” she said, eyeing him up and down without shivering. Surely I deserve some type of reward. “Yes, I can see how you might need that. Or is it for a friend?” She used air quotes, letting him know she wouldn’t believe him if he tried to take that path.

He set his elbows on the counter and leaned closer to her. “Some women need an extra boost. None of mine ever have, but there’s a first time for everything.”

The blush redoubled. “Why lice shampoo?”

He shrugged. “There could be an outbreak.”

“What about the yeast-infection ointment? The feminine cleansing pads? The vajazzle tattoos?” Never even heard of that. “The peekaboo mirror for personal inspection?” She gazed at him and rested a hand over her heart. “Wait. Do you have a hoo-ha fetish?” She batted her lashes at him, hoping he heard the unspoken bless your heart.

“Doesn’t every man?”

“Well, you can still count on me. I’ll take care of everything. You and your hemorrhoids will be feeling better in no time. One day soon you’ll even be able to sit in a chair without a cushion.”

He rocked back on his heels. “You are not handling this the way I expected.”

“Tears? Refusal? Please. I’d buy laxatives, suppositories for constipation, pills to stop diarrhea, an entire box of pregnancy tests and a tube of antifungal cream without a single moment of humiliation.”

“Great. Add those to the list. And don’t forget you promised to make sandwiches tonight.”