“Come on,” Coop growled.

“You’re not gonna trust what he’s dishing out, are you? How can manufacturers produce two candies, send them out worldwide, and expect the two people who receive them to find each other?”

Odd, he didn’t get uptight about any of Rill’s other stories. Today, his forehead pulled down, and his lips flattened.

“It’s a myth,” she said.

“Yeah, which you believe.” He spoke with a combination of concern and disgust.

“I think it’s lovely. I bet that’s how I’ll find my soul mate.”

Her comment got another, “Phft,” from Coop.

“I bet it will, little lady.” Rill put the tray back under the counter.

“Let’s go.” Coop grabbed her hand. “Thanks, Rill.”

“Anytime,” he chuckled. “One more thing.”

She pulled on Coop’s hand. He wouldn’t stop, so she yanked it. “Yeah?”

“The two people can only meet in Heather Ridge.”

“You’re kidding me.” Coop fumed, snatched her hand, and tugged her out of the store.

“What’s your problem?” Again, she jerked her hand away from his and stopped. “I think the story is great. It’s romantic. A dream.”

“You haven’t checked out its veracity.”

Leave it to brain boy to think science rules everything. “Sometimes there is no explanation.”

“I hear pigs fly. Do you think I should trust hearsay?”