“Maybe I shouldn’t.” She shot him a defiant look, which he missed entirely. “Too bad Tiffany couldn’t come and help today. Did she have to go back so soon?”

Sophie applied a sticker to a Fred Rogers biography and set it aside. She felt Aiden’s gaze but pretended not to as she reached for another book.

“Yeah, she’s . . . headed back home.”

“I thought she might stick around awhile.”

There was a long pause, the ch-chck of the price guns punctuating the silence. Of course he didn’t want to talk about Tiffany with Sophie. Truth be told, she didn’t want to hear it. Even now she envisioned the romantic scene from last night: the woman’s slender frame close to his, her long hair whipping in the wind.

Sophie’s chest squeezed tight. She had no reason to feel jealous over someone she couldn’t have. But there it was.

“It’s over between Tiffany and me.”

Sophie looked up but he continued working.

“It hardly even started, really. She was fun to hang around, but we’re not right for each other.”

“Oh.” Sophie blinked. “After she drove all the way here . . . I just thought—”

“We were never exclusive. If we were, I never would’ve—” He sighed heavily, looking at her, his blue eyes piercing hers. “I never would’ve kissed you.”

Her breath quickened at the yearning look in his eyes, at his words. The mere mention of his kiss made her legs feel like gelatin. “I—I thought we weren’t going to talk about that anymore.”

A spark of amusement lit his eyes. “If I could only stop thinking about it.”

Warmth flushed through her even as warning sirens wailed inside. “Aiden . . . We live in entirely different states.”

“I know, I know. There’s nothing you can say I haven’t already told myself.” He gave his head a shake, picked up the pricing gun, and applied another sticker. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

But he had—and now Sophie couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it either.

*  *  *

Aiden frowned at the price tag. Why had he said that? They’d put the kiss behind them. Or, rather, she had. He couldn’t seem to shake the feel of her lips on his. The feel of her hands in his hair. The feel of her heart pressed against his.

He had to stop this. He was sending mixed signals. First he kissed her and suggested they forget it. Then he broke up with Tiffany and brought up the kiss again.

For the last time, idiot, your lives are headed in different directions.

He was giving himself whiplash. He didn’t need to do the same to her. It wasn’t fair. She needed to focus on opening her business. It was the only reason he was here.

Wasn’t it?