“I don’t know why. I just couldn’t help myself.” My shoulders shrug while looking at Dane, who has the look he gives me everytime he thinks I’ve done something asinine. The same furrowed brow and pouted lips that I fell in love with twelve years ago.

“So you took the hickory honey ham out of her grocery cart?” His voice rises, fueled by disbelief, with each syllable.

“It was the last one!” I exc...