“Absolutely not.” Zoe handed back the pink spoon. There was no way in hell she was going to agree to whatever Donovan suggested. “Please lock those up. The last thing I need to see is Will’s name again.”

“So, you haven’t kissed a guy since Will?” Donovan’s question had a healthy dose of amusement hanging on it.

“That’s none of your business.” She snatched the blue spoon from his hand, holding it up in front of her face. “Do you know how much headache you’ve given me?”

“I think we should try it.”

“Try what?”

He flipped the pink spoon in his hand, tapping the handle to her shoulder. “Conjuring up some magic. It’s going to be a long night.”

“Do you even know the spell?” She highly doubted it. When Adam had done the spell on her batter, he had chanted it in his head.

“Well, no, but we can improvise.” Donovan sauntered over to the bar, bent down, and came up with a pink mixing bowl, tapping the pink spoon on the bowl. “Abracadabra . . . show me my soul mate.”

Butterflies swarmed her belly, and she tugged down her sweater. Did Donovan want to know his soul mate?

She scoffed under her breath. “Did he even have one?”

“Now we need some ingredients. Right this way.” He gestured for her to join him.

Zoe gulped and slid out of the booth, following him into the kitchen. She glanced around, expecting it to be bigger, but it appeared to have all the necessities the bakery needed with a prep area, large refrigerator, and three ovens. She stood off to the side as Donovan disappeared behind a door, which Zoe assumed led to a pantry.

“Here take this.” He emerged and handed her an industrial-size canister of flour. “I’ll get some eggs out of the refrigerator and everything else we need. We’re going to make my ‘better than sex on a cold snowy night’ chocolate cupcakes.”

Zoe gulped, heat traveling through her. God. He could even make baking cupcakes sexy. Damn him. She tried to ignore her obvious attraction to him and stepped away, pretending to be interested in her surroundings. She moved over to a door that led to a small office.

Which probably contained the safe.

She entered the cramped space that held a desk and a loveseat sofa. The wall safe was wide open. Curiosity got the better of her—it always did—and she peered inside.

Her heart dropped at the sight of a cream notecard. She moved back until she hit the couch behind her. “Oh, God. No.” Not another card.

Two months ago, she’d witnessed Rachel receiving a cream notecard out of an old hope chest with instructions from Adam’s distant cousin.

A distant cousin who was dead.

It’d been incredibly creepy, and she hadn’t wanted anything to do with it.

“Is everything okay?” Donovan came up beside her, carrying a carton of eggs. Concern filled his face.

“Yeah. I mean, no. I’m not sure.” She pointed to the safe. “Did you read the card in there?”

Donovan peered into the safe and pulled it out, setting the eggs down on the office desk. “Strange.”

“What?” Zoe stared at the notecard. “What did it say?”

“I don’t know.” He flipped the card over. “It wasn’t in there when I pulled out the spoons.”

Panic jetted through her. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I think I would have seen it.” He shrugged. “Maybe I didn’t.”

Nope. Wrong answer. She brushed past him because she was out of there. “Have a good night.” Zoe bolted for the door.

“Wait. Hold up.” Donovan was right behind her. “What has you so spooked?”

Zoe crossed her arms, trying to warm up the chills of terror exploding through her. “That notecard in your hand is from Mary Reed. As in Adam’s dead distant cousin. Apparently, she likes to play among the living. She left one for Rachel in an antique trunk at the Lakeside Inn.”

“Really? At Brandon’s Inn?”

“Yeah, and it came with explicit instructions.”

He cocked his head. “What did it say that’s got you so scared?”

“That Rachel would open a wedding shop,” Zoe shot back, voice rising.

“No. Not that.” He smirked, giving her a sexy lopsided grin that wasn’t helping matters. “I can see how my sister opening a shop would be frightening.”

“It’s not funny. You weren’t there.” Zoe threw him her death look. He could stop teasing her anytime. “I couldn’t care less what your sister does in this town. What’s got me spooked is that card in your hand is from a dead woman! I’m sure of it.”

“Okay.” Donovan waved the card in the air. “It appears we’ve reached an impasse.”

“No, we haven’t. I want to leave, and there’s no way you’re going to stop me. Good night.”

Donovan reached out and touched her arm. “I’m not going to let you attempt to walk home or down the street to your shop. It’s too dangerous.”

Zoe bit her lip, trying to ignore the tingles shooting up her arm from his touch. Where was this chivalrous guy the night he fired her? She sighed. “So, what do you propose we do?”

Donovan flipped the card in his hand. “Why don’t I open it? I’ll read it and then put it away. We’ll get it over with and get back to our baking.”

“And you’re not going to tell me what it says?”

“Nope, but if it scares me, I’ll bundle you up and carry you down the street to

your shop, because the last thing I want is to bunk down with Adam’s dead aunt.”

“Cousin,” she corrected, trying not to show that the image of being in Donovan’s arms as he shielded her from the cold was the sole reason her heart now raced—because it wasn’t.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked.

She shrugged her shoulder. “Fine. Deal.”

Zoe watched as Donovan opened the card. His expression gave nothing away.

“Well?”

“It’s not for you.” He folded the card and shoved it in his jeans’ back pocket.

“Is it about Rachel?” Zoe asked, now curious.

“Nope.”

“Is it from Mary?”

“I thought we had a deal.” He went about his business, picking up the egg carton and vegetable oil. Walking toward the swinging doors, he propped it open and nodded his head for her to join him. “You coming?”

Zoe jostled the flour container she was still holding with one hand and walked over, jamming a finger in his chest. “I don’t believe you, but I appreciate you not sharing with me its contents.”

He laughed, and they moved behind the counter. “I should be the one terrified, and look.” He set the egg carton down and held out his hand, palm down. “I’m not even shaking.”

“So, being alone with these spoons and a mystery card that appeared out of nowhere doesn’t spook you?”

“Not at all.” He took the flour container from her hands. “I’ve been to Batter Up before, and remember, I dated Abby Stevens. Although, we didn’t last.”

She really wasn’t that surprised. She suspected a young Donovan got around just as much as present day Donovan. “Why? What did you do?”

He laughed off that question. “You know, I don’t remember exactly why. She probably put a spell on me.”

“Well, I’m glad one of us has been around magic. I only saw it the one time with Adam.” Zoe tightened her grip around the flour container.

“Why don’t I take that from you.” Donovan took the container from her hands and set it on the counter. She watched as he moved around, lining up all his ingredients. “So, what kind of guy are you looking for?”

Zoe’s cheeks began to heat. What kind of question was that? “Who says I’m looking for anyone?”

“No one. Relax. Emma always asks her bachelors what they’re looking for in a soul mate before she does the spell. I’ve seen her do it when I’m home visiting.”

“Oh.” She reached for the vanilla extract he’d brought from the kitchen and opened the lid. “I don’t know. He’s got to be funny and smart. Definitely supportive of my business.”

“What made you open a frozen yogurt shop in the northeast?” he asked, measuring the flour.

“I’d always wanted one as long as I could remember. It’s kind of dumb. My mom used to take me for frozen yogurt, and then we’d catch a matinee. It was kind of our thing. She died when I was fourteen.”

Donovan stopped measuring, his gaze meeting hers. “I’m sorry to hear that. Was she sick?”

“Yeah, stage four cancer.” She sighed remembering the last time they’d gone to the movies before her mom was too sick to leave the house.

Her heart swelled at the memory of her in her favorite sundress, hand in hand with her mother as they enjoyed frozen yogurt before the movie. As the years went by, some memories faded but never this one. She held on to it tight. “I’m currently working on some new recipes that I know she would have loved.”

“That’s awesome. I can’t wait to have a taste. Did you have a shop in Denwood?”

She looked away, not really sure how to answer that question. She shouldn’t have made up a fictitious town. “No, I never had the guts to start a small business, but last year, my situation changed.”

See . . . she could tell the truth—just not all of it. She continued, “I searched small towns and Buttermilk Falls came up as a thriving community. I liked the idea of being near a lake to have some built-in customers during the summer months.”

Her eyes locked with his inquisitive, warm ones. Maybe she should be thanking him. If it wasn’t for his firing her, she might have never left Denver.

“You didn’t live near the water in Denwood?” Donovan asked, while cracking an egg on the side of the pink mixing bowl.

Right. Good point. Her fictitious hometown in Massachusetts could be near water. “Not really. We’re pretty inland. I mean, it wasn’t a far drive to the ocean. About an hour west, and to get there you had to take all back roads. It’s closer to the mountains . . . but not a mountain town.” Oh, Zoe, stop talking about a town that doesn’t exist. She pointed to the bowl. “I do have one deal breaker when it comes to my soul mate.”

“What’s that?” Donovan’s lips turned up into a sexy grin.

Her knees wobbled, reacting to it. She leaned against the counter to steady them. “He has to like cats.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Do you have a cat?”

“No, I’m waiting for my soul mate to adopt one for me.”

Donovan chuckled.

“What’s so wrong in my wanting my soul mate to get me a cat?”

“Nothing at all.” Donovan picked up the pink spoon. “Okay, one guy who loves the furry felines coming up.” He turned to face her. “So . . . I’ve been thinking about your situation.”

“What situation?”

“With Will.”

She pushed off the counter and threw her hands up. “It is not a situation. He and I aren’t getting together.”

“Yeah. You’ve said that, but wouldn’t you like to make sure that he’s not your soul mate?”

Yes!!! She smoothed her sweater over her hips. “Well, yeah.”

“Then I think there’s something I should do before I try the spell.”

Zoe narrowed her lashes, curious and suspicious. What was Donovan up to? “What should you do?” she asked.

“Kiss you.”

Holy moly! Her mouth went dry as she tried to push out a response. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Kiss you,” he repeated, leaning forward.

Or maybe it was she who was drifting toward his lips. She anchored her feet to the floor. “Why would you do that?”

“You know, be the last guy you kissed. If I show up in the batter, we know that Will is one hundred percent not your soul mate.”

Zoe’s thoughts went into overdrive. If Donovan kissed her, Will’s name would no longer show up in her batter. She’d have an eye witness to alert the Buttermilk Falls grapevine, starting with all the beauticians at the Spring Curls. “You want to kiss me?” she asked, just to be clear she hadn’t misunderstood his intentions.

Donovan handed her the blue spoon. “It’s just an idea.”

One—for reasons she couldn’t fully explain—she fully supported. Before she could stop herself, she grabbed onto his shirt with one hand and planted her lips onto his while plunging the blue spoon in the thick batter.

His lips teased hers, causing jolts of electricity to ricochet throughout her body. Her mouth opened in response, needing more. There were some kisses you’d hold on to even in your darkest days, and she was pretty sure she was experiencing one.

Without warning, the blue spoon shot out of her hand straight for the ceiling, causing them to break apart. Zoe’s eyes went wide, watching it come down hard on the shiny pink counter and bounce off, landing clear across the bakery.

“What happened?” Donovan asked, stepping back.

“I don’t know.” Zoe’s gaze moved from him to the mixing bowl, her heart racing. “I was holding it, and then it flew out of my hand and did an aerial act.” She stared in the direction of the blue spoon now on the marble floor.

It was no longer how they’d found it.

“Oh, God.” The words rushed out as terror whipped through her. She scurried around the counter. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.” This couldn’t be happening.

Donovan followed her over. “What’s wrong?”

“Emma and Abby are going to kill us.” She dropped to the floor, picking up the spoon with both hands and holding each end high in the air.