Donovan fell backward onto the queen-size bed and stared up at the bright yellow ceiling. What a disastrous day.

He’d thought there was a chance that Zoe would say no to his idea, but not once did he think that when he said, “I do,” she’d turn white, say “I don’t,” and full-on run out on him.

Yeah, he probably could have waited until after the wedding ceremony role-play to spring his idea on her, but when he saw her walking toward him, looking so beautiful . . .

Well, he wanted to work side by side with her and needed an answer right then and there.

And it really didn’t have anything to do with going into business with her.

He reached for the remote control off the nightstand and flipped on his massive flat screen TV, the only thing in the frilly room that belonged to him. It was the first thing he’d set up when he moved into Rachel’s. If he was going to have to stay here among his twin’s frilly pink comforter and matching pillows, he was going to watch the Culinary Channel and March Madness while doing it.

He fluffed a pillow, lying his head back down. The afternoon train wreck still consuming his thoughts. He should have known better than to catch Zoe off guard. What he should have done was thrown Will out of the kitchen with the jacket and tie.

However . . . He moved a hand over his chest. If he’d done that, he wouldn’t have experienced the sensation of his heart flipping when he saw Zoe, in all her bridal beauty, walking toward him. Damn. A feeling he could definitely get used to.

He placed his hands behind his head, resting his elbows on the pillow. Why had she sprinted on him like that? Sheesh. All she had to do was say no to his proposition.

“Spending your wedding night alone?”

Donovan turned his head to see Rachel crossing the doorway holding two open beer bottles.

“You could say that.” He moved his legs so she could take a seat.

She handed him a beer and slid onto the bed, stretching her legs, her fuzzy white slippers touching the floor. “Today was fun.”

Right. “I’m not sure Zoe felt that way.” He tilted the long neck back. After he finished this one, he’d head into the kitchen for another. Maybe down a six-pack. It was that kind of day.

“What I’m dying to know . . .” Rachel started, tapping his knee. “What prompted you to ask Zoe to go into business in the first place?”

“I don’t know. Dumb idea I guess.” He took a long sip. “I thought it might work. She needs customers, and I need a job. I don’t have many options in this town unless you want to start selling edible flowers in your shop.”

“Not really.” Rachel smiled. “I don’t think you and Zoe working together is necessarily a bad idea, and I’d love to have you across the street from me. I’d put in a good word for you, but I’m not her favorite.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the offer, though.” He couldn’t help but notice his sister seemed to be more chipper than her usual self. “Did you have fun today?”

Rachel shrugged a shoulder. “I guess. I mean, I did have to give up my Saturday and all.”

“You didn’t seem to mind when I promoted you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon, Rach. We’re seriously going to play this game? Why can’t you admit you’re into Will?”

“Because I’m not.”

He held her stare. From years of experience, he’d win this battle.

“Okay . . . I’ll admit today didn’t suck, but Will’s not the right guy for me.”

“Because you think he belongs with Zoe.” His sister was stubborn, but he’d wear her down and pull the real reason out of her.

“Maybe . . . no . . . it’s just Will’s so . . . I don’t think he’s capable of a relationship.”

“How do you know?” Donovan pulled himself up. He’d never admit it to her, but he kind of missed these talks with his twin. Living in Denver, it had been difficult to schedule long-distance time with her. Sometimes they’d video chat, but with her working days and him nights it was next to impossible.

She leaned back on her elbows, tapping her slippers together. “Things were easy with Adam. We were a couple for so many years, and then we weren’t . . .”

“You’re not still harboring feelings for Adam, are you?”

“No. Of course not. I’m really happy for him and Bethany. I just . . . I want to be with someone who is kind, genuine, spontaneous, can make me laugh.” She batted her lashes. “And, of course, puts me on a pedestal every hour of every day . . . even when he’s asleep.”

Donovan shook his head. “That’s the problem with women. They want men that don’t exist.”

“Well, I’m not giving up.” She moved off the bed. “Maybe I’ll get lucky like Abby or Emma and a handsome newcomer will sweep me off my feet. In the meantime, I’m going to make tacos.”

“Make sure you fry the meat all the way through this time.”

“You know you’re not the only one who can cook.” She giggled. “Okay, maybe you are. What is this?”

“What’s what?” he asked, finishing his beer.

“This.” Rachel picked up the lavender bag from the dresser and waved it in the air. “Um . . . something you need to tell me?”

Donovan sat up. He’d forgotten all about the purse. He’d meant to take it to the Sugar Spoon but had gotten sidetracked in his quest to help Zoe. “It’s Zoe’s. I mean . . . Zoe found it.” He left out the part about it containing the mysterious soup ladle that had freaked her out. That utensil was now in Rachel’s kitchen.

“It’s pretty.” Rachel held it up, examining it. “I need a purse this size. I’m sure someone

is missing it.”

“Probably.”

“Did you check to see if there’s an ID inside?”

“Zoe did. It’s empty.”

“You sure about that?” She held it up with one hand, touching the bottom with her other.

“Feels like there’s something in here.”

“What?” Curious adrenaline pumped him off the bed. He snatched the purse out of his sister’s hands, cradling its bottom. It did feel full. Reaching in, he pulled out a small container of ground black pepper and a handful of cream-colored business cards.

“What is it?”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Donovan stared at one of the cards.

Heavenly Soups by D. Foster

Rachel snatched a card from his hand. “You made business cards. Wow. That’s aggressive. Too bad she said, ‘I don’t.’”

“I didn’t make these.” He flipped a card, his jaw dropping at the two words on the back.

She does.