Sweeter Than Sunshine (Sweeter in the City Book 2)

by Olivia Miles

  Mary bit her lip, saying nothing. Hot one minute. Cold the next. It sounded familiar. Too familiar.

  “Well,” she said, clutching her paper cup. “I should probably get over to Sunshine and prep for the day.” Her heart fluttered with sudden nerves. She might actually have a customer today. Maybe even more than one!

  She said good-bye and left the café feeling a little more deflated than when she’d first arrived. The birds were chirping and the streets were filling with people ready to start their weekend. She had every reason to be looking forward to another spring and summer full of bustling activity, with a line out the door and sometimes even around the corner, the demand for her ice cream high and rewarding.

  But all she could think about was her friend’s subtle warning. And she started to wonder if Hailey was right—maybe she hadn’t been excited this morning about the change of season.

  Maybe she’d been hopeful about Ben’s potential change of heart.

  ***

  Ben looked out the window over the sink and onto the balcony of the apartment building next door. It was hardly a view, at least from this side of the building, but it was enough for him to see that all the snow had melted and the sun was shining brightly.

  Violet was playing with her dolls in the corner of the living room. “How about we go to the park today?” he suggested, thinking that it might be nice for her to be outside and around other children for a bit. The fresh air would do them both some good, and it sure beat sitting around the apartment, even though he had made a few efforts to spruce up the place since Mary was over. Last night he’d even hung a few frames on the wall, and this morning before Violet awoke, he’d created a toy corner for her in the living room. It still felt temporary, and it was a far cry from his former house, but it was definitely less depressing. One step at a time, he reminded himself.

  He packed a hat and gloves for Violet, just in case it was chilly, but there was a definite undertone of warmth in the air as they made their way over to the park. Ben eased onto a bench, watching as Violet climbed on the equipment, happy to entertain herself on the swings, easily making friends with some girls her age near the slide.

  She was easing into the routine, he thought, feeling his shoulders relax. Slowly, somehow, she was adjusting. Ben just had to be careful, keep things positive, manage her disappointments, and not do anything crazy.

  Like kiss his next-door neighbor.

  He pulled back on the seat, hooking one leg over the other as he scanned the park, searching for a distraction. Most of the parents at the playground were women, and most seemed to know each other, standing in groups, deep in conversation, one eye drifting to their child every few seconds.

  He looked across the playground to where a young couple was helping a toddler on the see-saw, and he felt something inside him begin to ache.

  It was a longing, not for what he’d had with Dana, but for what he might have had, and maybe still could. If he let himself.

  Abruptly, he pushed himself off the bench. There was no use going down that path. Nothing was ever simple, he’d learned. And he didn’t need any more complications.

  From somewhere in the distance there was the telltale ringing of a bell and the familiar song from the neighborhood ice cream truck. Ben counted the seconds . . . waiting for the request. Sure enough, Violet stopped pumping her legs on the swing and craned her neck to the sound.

  She jumped off and bounded over to where he now stood alone, and feeling awkward, on the fringes of the playground.

  “Can we go get ice cream?” Violet asked.

  Ben held up a hand to shield the sun from his face. “I think it’s looping the block, unless you want to try and chase it down?” It was something they always did when they heard the ice cream truck, a little game of theirs that admittedly sometimes ended with the fading of bells and tears of disappointment if they didn’t discover the location in time.

  “No, I meant ice cream at Sunshine Creamery. Mary’s ice cream is way better than some boring old ice pop,” Violet said, wrinkling her nose.

  Ben hesitated, even though she had a point. Mary made damn good ice cream, better than she gave herself credit for. But it wasn’t enough of a reason to keep dropping into her shop, not unless he wanted to foster something he wasn’t so sure he should. A connection. With Mary. With Violet. With himself.

  He looked into his daughter’s eyes. She was so hopeful, and the weather was warm, and who was he kidding? His spirits rose at the mere thought of seeing Mary. And that was concerning.

  ***

  For the first time in months, Sunshine Creamery had business. It was only midafternoon, and Mary had already served three families and an adorable teenage couple that almost made her believe in love again by the way they leaned across the table, sharing a hot fudge sundae, never taking their eyes off each other.

  That was the kind of love she was searching for. That sweet, simple, confident love that made you feel all warm and fuzzy and happy inside. But did it exist? If it did, she was yet to find it. And she wasn’t so sure it did.

  She thought of Lila and Sam. Well, maybe it did, but the journey wasn’t always an easy one. Nor did it come with a guarantee. And the next time around she needed that much.

  She stopped and snorted at herself. What was she talking about? Next time. There would be no next time. Not unless she was sure that the next guy was different.

  Her flavor of the day was coconut with toasted almonds and a shaving of rich, dark chocolate. It reminded her of the candy bar her grandfather had always enjoyed, usually sneaking one without her grandmother knowing, since she was forever going on about his cholesterol and the hazards of working in the sweets industry.

  Mary snuck a spoonful of the cold, creamy concoction, rationalizing it by telling herself that she needed to test her recipes, and, satisfied, set some aside in a quart-sized container to take home later. She used to drop off the cardboard packaged treats to her sister or Hailey, until both women had all but begged her to stop tempting them, Lila pleading she would never fit into a wedding dress if she continued.

  Mary didn’t have that problem. There was no wedding dress. No nights of nudity in her near future. She doubted she would have a chance to even get to the beach this summer, so it wasn’t like she needed to worry about bathing suits. Still, summer was coming, and with it came sundresses, and if recent experience had taught her anything, it was that you never knew who was on the other side of the door.

  Speaking of . . . Her heart skipped a beat when she glanced at the window, and she almost knocked over an open container of cream when she saw Ben and Violet walking toward the shop.

  She looked away, just in case they were passing by. A wave would be nothing short of awkward in that case. But, no, they were slowing down, and Ben was reaching for the handle, and . . .

  She pushed her hair from her face and smoothed her blouse over her hips. “Ben! Violet!” she added, forcing herself to tear her eyes from that handsome face, that chiseled jaw, and that mouth that she’d inspected quite closely just a few nights before.

  “You have customers today!” Violet announced loudly as soon as she walked into the shop, and two children at the back of the room turned to look up at her.

  Ben frowned at Violet, but Mary could only laugh. “She’s assertive,” she pointed out, feeling a tingle as she and Ben shared a smile.

  “And anything but subtle,” Ben grinned. He tipped his head at his daughter. “The ice cream truck visited the playground today, but Violet insisted we come here instead.”

  Mary bristled with pleasure. “Well, that’s quite an honor,” she said, knowing she probably looked more flattered than she should be. “I always wanted to try something from the ice cream truck,” she admitted. “But given that this was the family business, well, it didn’t seem like a very loyal thing to do.”

  “I’m loyal, too,” Violet said proudly. “You make the best ice cream, and I don’t want to go anywhere else!”

  Ma
ry laughed again. “Loyalty is a good quality to have.”

  Ben’s jaw tensed. “Sure is.”

  Mary felt her smile waver and she looked back at Violet and motioned her over to the counter. “We have some new flavors today. A few of the kids have chosen one I call Easter Basket Surprise.”

  Violet’s eyes danced with excitement. “What’s that?”

  Mary motioned to the pastel-hued tub of ice cream through the glass. “You know those yummy little marshmallow candies they sell at this time of year? Well, I mix those up with vanilla ice cream, and a few secret ingredients, too.”

  Violet began nodding her head excitedly. “I want that! I want that, Daddy!”

  Ben’s smile had returned. “Why am I surprised?” he asked, chuckling as he studied the purple, blue, yellow, and pink ice cream that glistened with sugar crystals.

  “Can I have a quarter for the jukebox?” Violet asked.

  Ben fished out some coins. “Here are a few. And be careful not to spill your ice cream!” he called, as Violet grabbed her sundae bowl and hurried across the room.

  He met Mary’s gaze, shaking his head, but his eyes were inscrutable, and intense. She felt her breath still as her pulse sped up.

  “It’s nice seeing you here,” she ventured, wondering if she’d overstepped. She watched Ben carefully, wondering if he’d mention the other night. Wondering if it had all been in her imagination.

  “Well, Violet loves the ice cream and . . .” He drifted off, his expression turning serious. “Hey, what are you up to later?”

  Mary opened her mouth, hoping something clever would pop out, but instead she was left with the unsettling feeling that she looked like a trout, blinking in confusion.

  “Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” she said casually, and then mentally cursed to herself. Okay, so she was a little . . . nervous around him. It didn’t have to mean she liked him. It just meant . . .

  Only she knew what it meant, and it meant she needed to tread carefully.

  She scrubbed at some melted ice cream that had spilled on the counter, resisting the urge to ask why he’d asked, wondering if it was too late to do so, and hoping he would elaborate.

  “We’re having pizza later,” he said.

  She stopped scrubbing and cocked an eyebrow. “I’m curious. Is there ever a night when you don’t have pizza?”

  His smile was wry. “I’ll have you know that I have an entire binder full of take-out menus. Sometimes, I have Thai.”

  She struggled not to laugh. “And are they arranged in alphabetical order or by cuisine?”

  He rubbed a hand over his jaw, seeming amused. “Neither. But you’ve given me an idea.”

  She laughed and tossed the rag in the sink. She was just about to start on a batch of waffle cones when he said, “You could join us tonight. If you’re free.”

  She looked up at him, her heart thudding. The smile had left his mouth and there was a decided edge to his gaze. If she didn’t know better, she might think he was nervous.

  “Violet would love it,” he added quickly.

  Oh. Mary felt like the air had been snapped out of her, and she wondered if he could see the embarrassment in her cheeks. So this was about Violet then. Not that she minded. The little girl was sweet, and Mary sensed that she needed some kindness right now.

  “I don’t close up until seven,” she explained.

  The tension seemed to leave Ben’s face. “I’ll place the order at six thirty then.”

  Mary gave him a small smile. “You have this takeout thing down pat, don’t you?”

  Ben shrugged. “It’s one of the only things I do.”

  Chapter Ten

  Ben closed the pizza box lid and leaned back against the couch. Beside him, Mary sipped her wine, her hair falling loose, draping the side of her face from view. He had the urge to reach up, slip the auburn strands behind her ear, but he reached for his beer instead.

  Down the hall, Violet was already asleep, even though she’d only been tucked in five minutes ago.

  “It was all that sugar, I’m afraid,” Mary said, smiling as Violet’s snoring grew louder.

  “More like all the excitement,” Ben said. He paused, giving Mary a long look. “It helps, having you here. I’m afraid I’m a little useless when it comes to playing with dolls or wearing tutus.”

  “Oh, she loves you, though.” Mary grinned. “It’s sweet, watching the two of you together. It makes me wish I could remember more times like that with my own father.”

  Ben frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, my parents died when I was young. I wasn’t much older than Violet, really. My sister and I went to live with my grandparents after that. They’re gone now, too.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it,” Ben said, feeling the familiar weight of guilt. He took his family for granted sometimes, especially of late. Sometimes it was too easy to get lost in yourself, forget about how much worse it could be.

  “It’s okay,” Mary said, reaching out to set her hand lightly on his arm before pulling it back again. “It happened a long time ago, and I have my sister, at least. We’re very close.” She tipped her head, her gaze roaming his face with interest. “What about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “A sister,” Ben said a little begrudgingly. “Emma is younger than me by a few years.”

  Mary lifted an eyebrow. “Not a close relationship?”

  Ben sighed. “She’s a shrink. Sometimes I think she forgets I’m not one of her patients.”

  “Ah.” Mary smiled as she finished the wine in her glass. “My sister can be that way too. Older. Wiser. Thinks she knows better.” She shrugged and leaned in a touch, close enough for Ben to catch a hint of her flowery perfume. “Half the time she does, but don’t tell her I said that.”

  Ben laughed. “My sister’s been a little overbearing. Since the divorce.”

  “Which was?”

  “We separated about two years ago,” Ben said. “Divorced shortly thereafter.”

  Mary jutted her lip, soaking in this information. “And you’ve been living here all this time?”

  Ben glanced around the room. Even though he’d made more of an effort since Violet had moved in, it was still sparse, still lacking a lived-in feeling. He hated to think what it said about his state of mind. But then, he already knew. His sister had told him. Depressed, she’d said, tsking. A man who had given up.

  “We have a house. Had a house,” he corrected himself. “Dana, my ex, well, she’s selling it.”

  “That must be strange,” Mary said.

  “Very,” Ben agreed. It felt like a relief admitting that, without being analyzed or judged in the way that would inevitably follow opening up to his sister, or without the worried crease that always formed between his mother’s and father’s brows if he dared to betray an emotion other than complete happiness. “It’s especially difficult because I oversaw the renovation of that house.”

  “Could you design another one?” Mary suggested.

  Ben took a long sip of his drink and contemplated this. “I suppose I’ve never thought of it. An apartment suits my life better now. Maybe I’ll buy a condo soon now that Violet’s come to stay with me. There’s been a lot of change lately, though. I’m not sure how much she can handle right now.”

  He looked over at Mary. Mary was a good change, he decided. A light in Violet’s life. And, if he was being honest with himself, his own life, too.

  “Do you ever look back on your life and wonder how the hell you got here?”

  Mary laughed. “Every day.” She shook her head. “When I think back on how eager I was to take over Sunshine, how optimistic I felt . . . It’s hard to believe that was less than a year ago. I feel like a different person now. I guess reality does that to you.”

  “Dana and I met in college. I remember thinking that the world was wide open, that anything was possible. We were in love, young, and it never even crossed my mind that we’d be a statistic. Divorced. I n
ever even considered it.”

  “I guess all anyone can do is hope for the best in life, or what’s the alternative?” Mary shrugged. “Sometimes I ask myself why I did this, took on the ice cream parlor, put myself in this position. I’ve sacrificed so much. But if I’d never tried . . . Well, that doesn’t seem like an option.”

  “It wasn’t an option,” Ben said. “But there’s still a chance for you and for your grandfather’s business. Don’t quit yet.”

  “I don’t want to quit,” Mary said, frowning. “But I’m not sure I’ll have much of a choice.” She paused, studying him. “Is that how you felt?”

  “I tried to make my marriage work,” Ben said, knowing that was the truth. Looking back there was nothing he could have done differently. He couldn’t control Dana. Couldn’t make her someone she wasn’t. “I was holding on for Violet’s sake. I wanted her to have what I had. Two parents under one roof. Stability. It killed me to think of her being shuffled back and forth.”

  “Kids can bounce back from a lot,” Mary said. “I did.”

  Ben considered her angle. “I know Violet’s not the first kid to be in this position. I know it’s not the end of the world. It’s just not what I wanted for her. This . . .” He waved his hand over the apartment. “Sometimes it’s hard not to wonder where it all went wrong. To pinpoint that exact moment when life went off course.”

  “You’re a good dad, Ben,” Mary said softly.

  Ben swallowed hard. No one had ever said that to him, at least not from what he could recall. He’d spent so much time living with the guilt, the fallout from the divorce, replaying every step up until it, making sure his visits with Violet went well, that she had fun. And lately, trying to make up for yet another disappointment.

  “Sometimes I feel like all I’ve ever done is fail her.”

  “I didn’t have a traditional family,” Mary pointed out. “But I never felt like I was missing out. I missed my parents, I still do,” she admitted. “My grandparents, though . . . they gave me love. And it was enough in many ways.”