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“You like Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream.”
“So? Is that your favorite?”
He shook his head. “I’m a big fan of Rocky Road.”
Shelby grimaced. “I don’t like marshmallows in my ice cream. It’s just not natural.”
“And I don’t like mint in my ice cream.” He put the vanilla back in the freezer and selected a Mint Chocolate Chip carton, placing it into the cart.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “How would that make us a perfect couple?”
“We’d never fight over the last bite of ice cream. Never steal the other’s ice cream. Having things in common can be fatal to a relationship when it comes to ice cream.”
Shelby’s lips twitched.
Remy liked when she smiled. It brightened the room.
“Well,” she said, “it’s a good thing we’re not a couple. One, night, I might get desperate for chocolate ice cream one night, fish all the marshmallows out of the Rocky Road and finish the carton. Our relationship would end over an empty carton of Rock Road.”
“That would be a shame. Because I bet we’d be compatible in all the ways that count.”
“Like?”
“You like to fish. I don’t know too many women who like to go fishing.”
“There is that.”
“Now that I’m retired from active duty, I’ll have more time to work on cars. I know old engines and don’t mind getting grease until my fingernails.”
Shelby pushed the cart toward the checkout counter, where Alan was filling bags as he rang up the price of each item.
“A man who isn’t afraid of getting grease under his fingernails is scarce these days…” she tilted her head to the side, “and strangely attractive.”
“I’m getting better looking by the minute, right?” He was teasing, but beneath the light banter, he was serious and hopeful that Shelby would see him as more than just her bodyguard or a one-night stand if she remembered that night.
“You two ready?” Alan asked as he placed the last item in a bag and printed out the receipt. “I have a few minutes before Madame Gautier gets here for her groceries.”
Remy’s brow wrinkled. “Madame Gautier, the Voodoo Queen?”
Alan nodded. “Yeah. I don’t like to keep her waiting.”
“I wouldn’t either,” Remy said. “She might put a spell on you.”
“I know, right?” Alan shook his head. “I heard Willie Smithers got sideways with her, and she put a spell on him and made his willy wither.”
Shelby laughed. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
Alan and Remy both looked at her.
“I’m not willing to test her,” Remy turned to Alan. “Are you?”
Alan shook his head. “No way.”
“Then let’s not hold up Madame Gautier,” Shelby said. “I want to get home sometime before dark.”
“On it,” Alan said and rang up the items in the cart.
“Can you put it on my account,” Shelby asked. “I don’t have my credit card with me.”
