“Unless you have fifty, eighty—hell, why be stingy—one hundred grand to save my business and cheat-induced insanity, then I don’t want any,” I mutter as a pair of black combat boots arrives before me. I know who they belong to immediately.

Pretending he’s not standing there or that I said what I just said isn’t an option, so I take my time with a slow glance up his body to meet his eyes.

And Jesus.

The man is more than just pale blue eyes and a hoodie. He’s taller than I anticipated, ruggedly handsome with a sharp jaw and dimples in both cheeks that form as he greets me with a smile.

I seem to have lost my words for a moment as I stare at him with narrowed eyes and parted lips.

“Yes?” I croak.

The roguish smirk on his face says he most definitely heard me. “I think you dropped this.”

He holds my business card out to me, but I’m too busy focusing on his honey-coated gravel to respond. My glance down greets me with strong forearms where his sleeves are pushed up to display a sprinkling of intricate tattoos—including what looks like a large pink heart on his wrist.

“Um. Yes. Sure.” Snap out of it. I reach out and take my card from his hand. “Uh, thanks.”

“Cookie Cutter?”

That voice. It’s sex on silk sheets. Not that I’d know or anything but . . . never mind.

“Yeah.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder as if he knows where I’m motioning. “It’s my bakery. Down the street. I bake cookies.”

Way to sound intelligent, Hendrix.

“I’m Jase.” He holds his hand out and I look at it for a beat before I realize I’m supposed to shake it.

“Hi. Yes.” Our hands meet as I attempt to ignore the delicious scent of his cologne. It’s clean and reminds me of outdoors. “I’m Hendrix.”

“Hendrix?” He lifts his brows and fights a smile I don’t quite understand. “Interesting name.”

“Yeah, well, blame it on my dad.”

“No. I like it. It’s . . . fitting.”

“Okay.” Whatever that means. He studies me without shame. His gaze grazes over my features before meeting my eyes again. “Is there something else I can help you with?”

He huffs out a sound. But right before he speaks, an “Excuse me” is said to the right of us.

We both turn to find a tall brunette standing there with a wide smile and gorgeous eyes, which are clearly focused on the man before me. “Hi,” Jase says to her.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I wanted to . . . you know, give you this.” She hands something to Jase. It looks like a folded napkin and he takes it.