Page 11 of Little Treat

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the fact you’ve given away stock,” she said. “I won’t tell your father, but you know he’ll kick up a stink if he sees you doing it.”

I shrugged. “He’s far too busy in the back alreadygrading,” I offered up with air quotes. “My perfectly fine chocolates. Evenhesays so.” At even the slightest mention of Logan in that way, he looked over, one of the chocolate truffles in his mouth and the melting chocolate covering his kissable lips.

“Well, are you going to introduce us, or is he one that you’ll throw back?”

In my mom’s world, I was some type of man-eater, chewing up these out-of-towners and then throwing them back into the wild, never to be seen again. She didn’t know I was auditioning them to take on a certain playful role in my life—but nobody’s mother deserved to know about what was going on in their kid’s bedroom, especially mine.

“Maybe,” I said. “I like this one.”

I headed back over to him, slipping out of the side counter on my way. We were standing together now, staring at each other for a quick intense moment before I hooked an arm through his.

Logan licked his lips clean and then pressed them tight as if trying to be more masculine or firm.“What happened?”

“You’re meeting my mom,” I said, and attempted to do a jolly little skip, which was met with the weight of him anchored to the spot.

“Jamie,” he said. “I’ll make sure to give you a spank later.”

“Oh my god, you’re naughty,” I whispered, my body tensing with an intense tingle.

He slipped his hand down my side, sliding it in at my waist, and then dipping it down to my ass where he cupped me and squeezed. “Naughty boy.” And without anyone seeing—I think—he gave me a light spank.

My mom was already back to cleaning the glass counter when we got to her.Logan said hello first, and my mom looked him up and down. I’d not seen that expression on her face much, but there it was, a look of question—definite curiosity.

“I know you,” she finally said.

“I probably just have one of those faces,” he said.

“Yeah, Mom,” I said, realizing this is where it would come out about Logan working for the Maple Kings and he’d probablyend up being booed out of the store. I knew they were on a losing streak, and my family were fans. “I’ve clearly got a type, and I think he’s probably got a spa to enjoy—or those hot springs.”

She huffed. “Well, whatever the two of you are doing, be safe about it,” she said.

“Will do,” Logan said, his hand fussing around my waist as if he didn’t know what to do with it, when all I wanted him to do was grab me. “Those hot springs do sound nice.”

“Jamie, you’ve still got work to do,” my mom said in a quieter voice now. “You know it’s best to just do it rather than have your dad come down hard on you again.”

“Fine, I know that,” I said. “Plus, Logan was just leaving, with his sweet treats, and yes, they’re on me.”

We looked to each other—the double meaning of beingon mewasn’t lost on either of us. I wouldn’t mind him eating from my body, or seeing those lips in action again. After all the effort it took for him to get here, and throwing that snowball at him... I suppose I’d seen him, I’d got my fill, and that would feed me until closing.

He kissed me. “I’ll text you,” he said.

“Okay, oh, let me wrap those back up for you,” I said in my best sing-song customer-service voice as we headed back to the counter.

I knew this place wouldn’t be mine when Dad retired, and that probably added to the reason why I didn’t put in as much effort as my older brother. But I knew I needed to train, especially if I was going to open up a rival place and begin a feud with Peter. Okay, so that would never happen, but those were the types of thoughts that helped me get through the day.

***

We texted back and forth for the rest of the day. Daddy Logan had been to the hot springs, claimed they were too hot for him, and had explored some more of the town, finding a cafe and acting like he’d just discovered real food for the first time in his life. And by real food, I meant the stuff that had actual taste instead of whatever he’d been eating before his vacation.

As the chocolate shop closed and I prepared to leave, halfway through zipping up my coat my father pulled me aside, a strange expression on his face—similar to the one my mom had earlier. This is when they were going to give me an intervention for the mini-dates I’d been having with the guests in town.

“You good?” I asked, taking my scarf from the hook in the staff room.

“Was that—”

“What’s what?” I asked, looking around like he was talking about an insect. “Is it on me?”

“Logan Pierce,” he said slowly.