“Yeah. They’re on the porch.” I barely got out of the way as he shot past me. “Great day, Boss! They ain’t going anywhere!” My own cookie waved in the air as though it were making some point it didn’t care to share with me.

Vance grabbed my wrist, brought the cookie to his mouth, and took a monster bite, leaving just a pitiful morsel between my fingers. “Mmm . . .”

We didn’t know each other well enough for playful cookie thieving, that’s for dang sure, so I yanked my arm free and pinned him with a stern stare while he stood there smacking. “Just because you’re the mayor’s son don’t give you the right to take whatever your spoiled little heart desires!”

Perhaps I laid into him harsher than necessary, but I was irritated and his handsome face made for an easy target. The lack of sleep and the tiny stinging nicks covering my hands from having to clean a gazillion shrimp at an ungodly hour in the morning were to blame. Not to mention, I really wanted that darn cookie!

Vance raised his palms and licked his lips. “Why don’t you lighten up a little. Sheesh.”

“Why don’t you grow up a lot!” I tossed the tiny chunk of cookie, nailing him in the forehead with it. He didn’t even flinch.

“I’ve been told I’m plenty grown. How about I take you behind that magnolia tree over there? One kiss should prove it,” Vance declared while wiping his forehead with the palm of his hand, leaving a tiny smear of chocolate I wasn’t about to point out.

“You just think you’re so cute. Go on back to town, where I’m sure you’ll find plenty of girls falling over themselves to be teased by you.” I jabbed a finger toward his stupid sports car.

“Why can’t you just be nice to me?” Vance snapped.

“Because it puts me in a bad mood!” My arms flung up before slamming against my thighs.

He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. “You sure are pretty, even in a bad mood.”

“Why are you still here flirting with me after I done and told you to get?”

“Heck if I know.” Vance ran his fingers through the wild curls covering his head. “Would it hurt you to flirt back, though?” He straightened, apparently remembering we weren’t alone. He glanced in the direction of the peanut gallery watching our exchange from the porch.

“You musta got dropped on ya head as a baby,” Peg supplied as that scoundrel plucked the last cookie from the container.