Mabel got her coat and left, reluctance written all over her narrow, tight-lipped face. Cody inched a little closer to the soda fountain, as if an invisible barrier had been removed from his path.

“Melissa,” Eli called. “I’ll be in the storeroom, checking this morning’s delivery. Call me if you need me.”

“Traitor,” Melissa mumbled under her breath.

Cody had moved close enough by now to overhear. “Nice talk,” he commented. “He’s just doing you a favor.”

“Me?” She stared at him incredulously. “Oh, no. You probably paid him to get rid of Mabel and to disappear himself. I noticed the other night that you’d inherited Harlan’s knack for manipulation.”

Cody clearly wasn’t crazy about the comparison, but he let the charge roll off his back. “I’m not desperate enough to be paying anyone to give me time alone with you,” Cody said, his grin widening. “I’m still relying on my charm.”

“Take it somewhere else,” she muttered.

“Tsk-tsk, Me...liss...a,” he drawled, tipping his hat back on his head as he settled on a stool at the counter. “What does it take to get a little service around here?”

“More charm than you’ve got,” she retorted. “Or cold, hard cash.”

He plucked a twenty out of his wallet and set it on the counter. Then he winked. It appeared he was giving her a choice about which currency she wanted to accept. Melissa would have gladly taken the wink, if it meant she could shove that bill straight down his throat.

Since she couldn’t, she snatched the twenty, tucked it into her pocket and withdrew her order pad and pen. “What’ll it be?” she inquired in the same impersonal tone she used with other impossible customers.

Cody propped his elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “A kiss for starters.”

“You wish.” Her knees trembled despite the defiant retort. Why was it that temptation always entered a room right at Cody’s side? Shouldn’t she have been totally immune by now? Lord knows, she’d been lecturing herself on getting over him from the day he’d left town. Some of that advice should have taken by now. Apparently, though, it hadn’t.

“Then I’ll have a hamburger, fries and a shake,” he said.

The mundane order was a disappointment. Melissa cursed her wayward hormones as she slapped the burger on the grill and lowered the fries into the hot grease. She sloshed milk into a metal container and out of habit added two scoops of chocolate ice cream, even though Cody hadn’t specified the kind he wanted. Half of the mixture splashed out when she jammed the container into place on the automatic shaker.

“Nervous?” Cody inquired.