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I take in the long row of flavors. I put my arm loosely around Jess. “What’s your favorite flavor?” I ask.

She promptly removes my arm from around her shoulders. “Not sure. But that birthday party flavor looks interesting. It’s got all kinds of stuff in it. What’s yours? You seem like a vanilla kind of guy.”

“Me? Vanilla? Why do you say that?”

Jess glances up at me with a sly look on her face. “You know, predictable. You always get what you expect out of vanilla ice cream.”

“I don’t think so,” I scoff. “If you think I’m a vanilla type of guy, then you don’t know me all that well.”

She raises her brows, and her lips turn up in a half smile. “You know, you can tell a lot about a person based on their favorite ice cream. And yep, you’re definitely vanilla.”

“And what exactly is wrong with vanilla ice cream? It’s dependable, safe, and you know it’s going to taste good.”

Jess taps her chin in thought. “Sure. But, it’s so . . . boring.”

I scowl in mock indignation. “Are you saying I’m boring?”

“If the ice cream cone fits . . .”

“Hmm. Well, since I’m apparently not exciting enough for you, why don’t you order for me?”

Jess smiles wide and motions to the boy behind the counter. “Could I have a scoop of the birthday party in a cone? And for this guy here, he’s going to take a scoop of plain-o vanilla. In a cup. He’s not exciting enough for a cone.”

I nudge Jess to the side. “Um, excuse me. Actually, could I please have some of that caramel topping on the vanilla and some gummy bears, too?”

Jess wrinkles up her nose. “Gummy bears and caramel? That’s a disgusting combination.”

The worker hands us our ice creams and I go to the register to pay.

“How do you know unless you try it?” I ask.

“I don’t have to try it to know I won’t like it.”

I raise my brow at her as we head out of the ice cream shop. “So, maybe you’re the vanilla one? Boring, unexciting, plain-o vanilla.”

“Obviously not. I’m the one eating birthday party.”

The smug look on Jess’s face has me wondering what she’s thinking. I have a suspicion that it’s not ice cream on her mind. The little minx thinks she can get away with flirting with me while pretending innocence. Ice cream? Yeah, right.

“I think we both know we aren’t talking about ice cream, now are we? You’re implying I’m boring and unexciting in bed? I’d be happy to give you some details about how unboring I am.”

She lifts her shoulder in a dainty gesture and cocks her head to the side. “Huh? No idea what you’re talking about. I’m talking about ice cream, nothing more.”

“Interesting. My mistake.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you,” she chirps happily. Her tongue darts out and takes a healthy lick of her ice cream as she looks me dead in the eyes. A little dot of ice cream is on the corner of her mouth. She uses her tongue to try to lick it off, but the ice cream remains.

“Mind if I try your ice cream?” I ask her sweetly. “I’ve never had the birthday party flavor.”

“Of course.” She holds out the cone to me.

I reach for her ice cream but use my hand to move it to the side, away from her face. Instead, I lean in and lick the ice cream off the corner of her mouth.

I hear her sharp inhale, and it brings me immense satisfaction that I surprised her.

Just like she did to me last night, I put my lips close to her ear. “For someone who isn’t interested, you sure seem to like playing with fire.”

Dinner with the other contestants is turning out to be an interesting affair. Sitting next to me is a blonde with long, gorgeous hair. Her silver sequined dress is short and tight, and her breasts are popping out of a low-cut top. Her scruffy-looking fiancé is sitting next to her, and his eyes have remained glued to his woman’s boobs the entire time. He’s sporting at least a week of hair growth on his face and is dressed in jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt. It’s an interesting dynamic because she’s barely said five words to this poor, drooling man. I’d never have pegged them as a couple. The saying about love being blind certainly seems to hold true to this couple.