Donovan gave his lunch order of a BBB Burger, fries, and vanilla milkshake to Betty and glanced outside at the tall, white mounds across the street. It’d been one week since the wicked snowstorm had torn through the town, dumping more than two feet of snow. Things were finally starting to get back to normal.

And that meant no more random evenings spent locked in the Sugar Spoon. He couldn’t help but chuckle. What an unexpected night that turned out to be. Being stranded in a bakery had been a first.

Strike that. Being stranded in a bakery with a beautiful woman who’d given him the best kiss of his life had definitely been a first.

And one he wouldn’t mind repeating, but maybe sans the blizzard and maybe with a little less hocus pocus.

Abby hadn’t taken the news well that he’d 1) gotten the mixing spoons out of the safe and 2) broke the blue one, but she’d said they’d figure it out once Emma returned later in the week.

And she’d made it perfectly clear that to make up for his shenanigans he would be cooking her his special pasta with Bolognese sauce for the duration of her pregnancy.

He accepted his punishment and promised to keep Abby and her unborn baby full for the next few months. His gaze bypassed Ralph’s Pizzeria, landing on the Ice Heaven’s neon blue sign. Although, technically, he hadn’t been the one to break the blue spoon.

True. However, if he hadn’t suggested to Zoe that they kiss, it might still be intact.

But then he wouldn’t have felt the instant pleasure of her mouth on his.

He brushed his thumb over his bottom lip. Totally worth it.

The minute her lips crashed onto his, he’d had to restrain every muscle not to pull her into his arms and kiss her into the morning. He wanted her that much.

He didn’t quite understand what had come over him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t made out with other beautiful women, because there had been many over the years.

But none of them had caused his heart to beat as fast as it had in response to Zoe kissing him back.

He shook his head. It didn’t really matter. He was pretty sure she’d only done it to get one thing.

While he’d like to think she’d wanted to lock lips with him specifically, he wasn’t a total idiot. The only reason she did it was because he’d planted the seed that maybe if they kissed Will’s name wouldn’t show up in her batter, proving the mechanic wasn’t her soul mate.

And that was really all she wanted.

She’d been so desperate not to see Will’s name in her batter and to put an end to the town gossip, she most likely would have kissed anyone. He glanced in the direction of the kitchen, seeing the old owner, Mel, garnishing a plate. She probably would have kissed Mel, if Donovan had suggested it.

He fisted his hand and cracked a knuckle. He’d never been used by a woman. Maybe that was the big turn on? Maybe he’d fed on the desperation that coated her lips.

His hand went to his chin, and he scrubbed his stubble. Why did he care?

It wasn’t like he knew anything about Zoe Mathews other than she was passionate about her business, liked to take in a matinee, appeared to enjoy his cooking, and the only requirements for a soul mate were that he’d be funny, smart, and buy her a cat. He mentally went through her list again.

Funny.

Check. He might not be as funny as class clown Adam Reed, but he’d like to think he knew how to make a woman laugh.

Smart.

Double check. He’d always gotten good grades in school and had numerous culinary awards to prove he had a brain, not to mention he’d run a successful restaurant for years.

The third requirement, well, that was a problem. He was more of a dog person. He’d never cared for the self-righteous, judgmental, moody felines.

He scoffed. She was probably one of those women who would let her cat sleep on the bed snuggled on her head and refer to it as her fur baby.

He scratched his nose, feeling a sneeze coming on just thinking about a cat crawling near his face while he slept. Nope. He and the cat lady weren’t happening.

She’s not the woman for me. Glad that’s settled. Move on. He leaned back in the booth as Betty set his plate and shake in front of him, the large burger oozing with its signature blue cheese.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he said to the BBB Burger before attacking it with both hands. His thoughts continued to rationalize why he and Zoe would never work out.

What he really needed was to get his ass in gear and figure out how he was going to make a living. Adding a woman into the mix—even one as beautiful as Zoe—wasn’t a good idea.

Sure, he’d thought he’d wanted to settle down, but that was only because everyone close to him here had. He reached for a French fry and popped it into his mouth, chasing it with a long sip of the thick vanilla shake. He’d adjust his plan, that’s all.

He didn’t need a relationship.

Zoe’s adorable laugh filled his defiant head.

Okay, sure. He wouldn’t mind hearing it again. So, they wouldn’t move into a relationship. There was nothing preventing them from hanging out. Maybe they could share a meal. He could cook for her again. Women loved his homemade meatloaf.

He grunted, ready to give himself a whopper of a head slap. Hanging out was predicated on Zoe actually wanting to spend time with him. He wasn’t sure she did.

Yeah, their kiss was hot, but the blue spoon breaking sort of killed the mood. That night, she didn’t make one overture to continue what they’d been doing before the dramatic interruption.

Damn spoon.

They’d spent the rest of their time trapped in the Sugar Spoon, lying in a booth across from each other and dissecting how it could have broken until Zoe drifted to sleep.

And that summed up the evening.

Well, almost. He reached in his back pocket for his wallet, pulling out the folded cream notecard.

He didn’t need to read its contents. He knew them by heart. Still, he opened it, staring at the instructions addressed to him.

Donovan, Soup’s up. XX, Mary

Yep, he’d gotten his own personal correspondence from the infamous Mary Reed.

The infamous deceased Mary Reed.

But what the hell did it mean? Soup’s up? Did she want him to make soup? For what purpose?

He’d nonchalantly placed the card in his back pocket the night of the blizzard because he didn’t want to tip his hand to a frightened Zoe that the card—that appeared out of nowhere—was for him. The last thing he wanted to do was chase her down the street in the snow, which he was pretty sure would have been the outcome if he’d revealed what the card had said. So, instead, he’d put on a poker face and pretended it wasn’t a big deal.

He’d showed it to Adam a few days ago, hoping his pal could shed some light, but that didn’t happen. The only thing Adam did was slap Donovan on the back, and said, “Welcome to the Mary Wants to Mess with You club.”

Donovan reached for his shake, taking a sip. Not a club he wanted to belong to. He folded the notecard and returned it to his wallet.

“Hey, Sugar. Here’s some special sauce you always liked for your fries.” Betty winked and set down in front of him a small bowl full of a mixture of ketchup and mayonnaise because he’d requested it every time his parents brought him here as a kid. Mostly to annoy his twin who thought it was disgusting, but damn the dip always tasted good. “Betty, you remembered.”

“I remember lots, Toots.” She slid in the booth next to him, propping her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hand, her bright red lips pursed and ready to chat. “So, how are you settling back into small-town life? You keeping busy?”

He dipped a fry into the mixture and popped it into his mouth, enjoying the tangy taste. “I think I’m getting into the groove. Things are slow. I forgot how uneventful this place can be in the winter.”

Betty nodded. “No doubt about it. Although . . .” She leaned forward, her voice low with a hint of amusement. “I hear you were trapped in the Sugar Spoon bakery for hours with Zoe Mathews during the blizzard. That doesn’t happen every snowstorm.”

Man, the one thing he hadn’t missed was small-town gossip. The Spring Curls salon would have had a field day with all the women he often brought home. “Zoe was on her best behavior,” he joked.

That got a sarcastic laugh out of Betty as she got up to wait on a couple that had entered the diner. “Don’t go breaking her heart.” She scrunched her nose, adding, “I think it might be fragile to begin with.”

Donovan tilted his head. Fragile. What did Betty mean by that? Who’d broken Zoe’s heart? Was it some guy back in Denwood?

And where the hell was Denwood?

He pondered that with another coated fry and glanced out the window, catching Will crossing the street. The popular mechanic had traded his overalls recently to run his mother’s shop while she was taking care of his dad in Florida.

Talk about a fish out of water. Donovan couldn’t help but chuckle, picturing Will trying to help customers pick out their wedding dresses because his mom owned the Belle Bridal Boutique. He straightened, watching Will detour straight into the Ice Heaven.

Given that it was ten degrees outside, he suspected the man was in the mood for something more than frozen yogurt.

He continued to eat his burger. As the minutes ticked by, he grew more and more annoyed. His gaze finally fell back on the front entrance of the Ice Heaven. What was going on in there? Was his buddy making a play for Zoe?

Donovan sprang up. Not if he could help it. He took his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash to pay for his lunch, handing the bills to Betty on his way out.

“Do you want your change?” the waitress asked, staring down at the large bills in her hand.

“It’s all yours, Betty. Thanks for remembering how I like my fries.” He kissed her cheek and bolted for the door. If Betty was right and Zoe’s heart was fragile, there was no way he’d let his Casanova friend near it.