Chapter 1

“I havetwo large twisty cones, two medium twisted sundaes, and one small twisted cherry ice. That will be twenty-two even,” I said, looking up at the customer from my register.

“That’s a bit expensive.” She frowned and slid her card through the machine.

“It’s worth it. Trust me,” I said, winking at her. “Everything here is.”

Her cheeks flushed pink, and she offered me a shy smile.

“You’re cute.” She tucked her card back into her wallet.

“So are you.”

Her smile widened. “I’m actually babysitting. The kids wanted sweet treats and wouldn’t leave me alone until I agreed to come here.”

“Well, I’m incredibly glad you’re easily swayed.” I raked my gaze up and down her body. I was being a total douche, but the day had been a long one, and I was bored. It was nearing the end of my shift, and all I really wanted to do was go home and work on a new song that had been banging around in my head all day. It was getting to the point where I was ready to tear my hair out in frustration. I had several napkins I’d scribbled music and lyrics on tucked into my uniform pants, and they were itching to be brought to life.

“How old are you?” she asked as I went about making her order. The kids she was babysitting played in the play area, two of them a little too old to be in the slides but fuck it. If they got stuck, I’d spatula their asses out. Wouldn’t be the first time I had to rescue a kid from the tube of terror. At least, that’s how I referred to the long neon green tube slide in the place.

“Sixteen,” I answered, placing a cherry atop one of the sundaes. “You?”

“Nineteen.” She wrinkled her nose, her brown eyes dragging over my body. “I’m Rachel. You don’t look sixteen.”

I chuckled and placed the sundaes on a tray. “I hear that a lot, and I’m Anson.”

“You’re, like, really tall. And. . . and muscular. You work out a lot?”

“I do.” I placed the twisty cones in their holder and added them to the tray. “Martial arts. Gym. All that fun stuff.”

Her eyes lit up. “Where do you train?”

“I go to the Samson Center for Marital Arts Training, up on 29th.”

She bit her bottom lip. “What do you do there?”

“Krav Maga and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Why? You need a sparring partner?” I eyed her right back.

She giggled, her cheeks red again. “Maybe. I’ve never done any of it before. Is it hard?”

I nodded, becoming serious. “It’s not easy. It’s a lot of discipline and training.”

“How long have you been doing it?”

“Years,” I said. “My mom started me, my little brother, and sister on it when we were old enough to walk, it seems like. It was always important to her that we be able to defend ourselves.”

“Your mom sounds really cool.”

“She is,” I said fondly, hoping she was home resting. She worked constantly. We were dirt poor, and I worked at Twisty Cone whenever I could after school to try to offset some of the costs since we were barely scraping by. She was a waitress and did some temp work with various agencies in our city of Chicago. Trent and Tiana, my younger brother and sister, were twins and too young to work. They’d be teenagers soon, and I knew Trent was chomping at the bit to contribute. But Tiana? She was content to read her books and listen to music. I’d prefer it if she never had to struggle with us. I wanted her and my family to have the world, even if it meant I was twisting cones when I could be out being a teen. Their happiness mattered more to me than my own. I wanted, more than anything, to make enough so my mom wasn’t exhausted and overworked.

She promised me she’d be taking the evening off. We were going to have a nice family dinner when I got home. She was making my favorite dessert. Homemade brownies. It would be a late dinner since I wasn’t off until eight, but I couldn’t wait to get there and gobble down my mom’s brownies. They were phenomenal. Trent and I always fought to get the most. I typically won, but sometimes I let him. It wasn’t often, though, and I imagined he had already cut into them without waiting for them to cool.

The thought made me groan inwardly. I wanted brownies. Bad. But I wanted to have a nice evening with my whole family tonight.

Family was everything to me.

Someday, if I ever found my real dad, I’d bring him home too. It was a vow I’d made when I was eight, and it held true just as much today as it had on that eighth birthday of mine.

I finished off the order and handed her the tray.

“There you go. I upgraded your drink to a large.”

“Oh, thank you,” she gushed, taking the tray from me. “These drinks are seriously the best.”

I grinned at her. “This one is special.”

She eyed me again, her brown eyes sparkling, before she sat at her table, the kids flocking back to her.

I set to work cleaning up the area, ready to get the hell out of there. I made sure to keep an eye on her, though. She lifted her drink and stared at the napkin beneath with my name and number on it, a wide smile sweeping over her face before she looked to me.

She would probably think she was too old for me. That was fine. I had to shoot my shot.

I winked at her, making her cheeks flush again, before I went into the back and took off my apron.

It was time to go home.

Finally.