by Quinn, Taryn
“Yes. Hell, yes.” I bit down on her lower lip. “Squeeze me as tight as you fucking can.”
She didn’t disappoint. I groaned as pleasure streaked through me, white-hot and overwhelming, and let the fraying wire around my control snap.
I drained myself into the condom as I buried my face in her hair. “Ivy.” Just that, over and over again like a song.
A plea.
We didn’t move for the longest time. It was the breeze tickling my bare ass that made me turn my head. And chow down on a mouthful of grass just beyond the spread. I sputtered and lifted my head, blades still stuck to my lips, while Ivy laughed.
“Crushing me. Ow. Ouch. But oh, God. You look like a cow.”
I poked her in the side and she just laughed harder. So, I started laughing too.
When I rolled over, she climbed right back on top of me. She nuzzled my neck and wrapped herself around me like a content kitten. All she was missing was the purr.
“Gotta deal with the condom,” I muttered. I couldn’t imagine the mess we were making.
Actually, yes, I could. And I didn’t really care.
“Don’t worry.” She licked my earlobe. “I’m good at getting you clean.”
“You’re going to be the death of me, Ivy Beck.”
“Possibly. Just as you might be the same for me.” She lifted her head, her wicked eyes glowing in the darkness. Must’ve been my imagination. “But for the next day, we’re going to live.”
I tucked her windblown hair behind her ear. “Taking it day by day is how I get by. You understand that, right? With my schedule, I need flexibility. I travel all over to meet with artists—”
“And you have a girl in every port. Gotcha.” While she smiled, her voice turned cool.
“No. No other women. Just you. You’re the only one in a long time.”
“But?”
“But I live in LA and you live here. And bloody good sex can make people see compatibilities that aren’t there. I’m not an easy man to be with,” I added, turning her face back to mine when she shifted it away.
“As if I’m easy? You’ve never seen me during PMS. Or when I have Aunt Flo.”
“Aunt who?”
“Never mind. You’ve definitely never seen me when I can’t get a flavor right. I’m a raging bitch then. But that’s people. We have a million different sides and half of them suck. You just hope to find someone with less suckage than the others. And if not, a really nice dick that makes up for the rest.”
“Thank you. I think.”
She didn’t laugh, just rubbed her chilly arms. “I like you. A lot. We have fun. If that’s all it is, then that’s all it is. I won’t try to rope you into anything.”
“I don’t know what to do with ropes. Or ties of most any kind. I’m used to living out of a suitcase and liking it. This…” I trailed off, gesturing to the wilderness around us, suddenly alive with chirps and rumbles and noises that I could not identify. I nearly shuddered. “Let’s just say I’m not the sort to bond with nature and pitch a tent. I live in a place of glass and it suits me.”
“And this suits me. But lots of things might. How will I ever know if I don’t experience them?”
She was right. So right. As I’d seen during my short time in Crescent Cove.
“Trust doesn’t come easy to me.”
“No kidding?”
“Look, I don’t want to bring up the past, but I’ve dealt with some things that make me wary. But I like being with you. To be honest, the idea of never seeing you again is painful.” I touched her silky soft cheek. “And not just because I nearly dropped to my knees after tasting your—”
“Shh. This is a family show.” Even in the dark, I could see her grin.
“Ice cream. Wow. Filthy mind.” After I removed the condom and wrapped it in a tissue from my pocket, I pulled her close. “I have to go tomorrow night, but we have the rest of tonight. And I’d like to come back. I just don’t know when.”
I had tons of work waiting for me, with a list of prospective clients as long as both arms. I also wasn’t sure how long it would take me to get some distance.
Some perspective on how to live my life with Ivy as only an occasional guest.
“Okay,” she said after a few moments. “But I want your number. And I want you to have mine.”
“Okay,” I echoed, stroking her hair. “You have to make me a promise though.”
She lifted her head.
“If you ever meet someone else and get tired of waiting on me, you’ll be honest. Just call me and tell me the truth. I won’t hold it against you.”
“Rory—”
It was my turn to cover her lips with my finger. “Just that one promise.”
She exhaled a heavy breath and nodded. “I promise.”
Fifteen
May
What are you doing, loser?
I rested my chin on my arm as I stared at the ingredients for my next creation. I was trying to make something exciting out of vanilla without it being too sweet. Oh, and without making me nauseated. Taking the cap off my vanilla extract made me want to hurl.
Probably because I’d been making everything vanilla for the last few weeks.
I reached for my phone and read the text one more time.
Kinleigh.
That was usually code for let’s do something crazy. Usually that included far too much wine and too little self-control. Then again, the last time I’d lost control, there hadn’t been any alcohol involved. Just lust and a handful of condoms. Oh, and an Irish accent that I kept dreaming about.
No big deal. Even if time kept slipping away with barely a handful of texts between us.
My wild Irish fling. He was the drifter and I was the small town girl who was his port in a New York storm.
How very rockstar of him and very stupid of me.
Didn’t stop me from looking for his blue eyes in the crowd.
I set my phone down and spun it in front of my supplies. I sighed, then stood and gathered them all to tuck into my storage bin. I slid it back into the cupboard and picked up my phone.
Trying to make vanilla exciting.
That’s not possible.
So I’m learning. I’ll crack it though. What’s up with you?
I’m bored. The rain has chased away all my customers. I also have to update my website and I’m avoiding it like Mrs. Conroy. Entertain me.
I snorted. Mrs. Conroy liked to make everyone in town crazy. Busybody with a capital B. I should be working on the backup flavors on my list, but I didn’t feel like getting my blenders out to make sorbet.
Meet me at BA in twenty.
Yes! Cya in a few.
At least I’d get coffee out of the deal. And the drive into town usually cleared my head when I hit a wall.
I stuffed my feet into my outrageously pink galoshes that matched my slicker, then grabbed my keys and purse on my way out the door. If I didn’t change out of my bum clothes, Kinleigh couldn’t talk me into going to the bar. Then again, if I kept taste-testing my ice cream, I’d need to hit up my bestie for a new wardrobe of elastic-waist pants for the summer.
Flowing tops for the win.
My brother’s truck pulled up just as I got to my car.
“Hey.”
August reached back into his truck. “Hey. I got that spray paint machine you asked me for last week.”
Excitement brewed despite the late spring soaking we were getting. “Finally.”
“Hey. It takes time to order these things. Not like Home Depot is around the corner.”
I wrinkled my nose and flipped my hood up on my slicker. “I know. Thanks for getting it for me. It’s supposed to be gorgeous tomorrow. Maybe you can help me do a base coat?”
He tapped the low brim of my hood. “Maybe.”
I went on my tiptoes and gave him a kiss, then tugged on the worn brim of his ever-present baseball hat. “Thanks, Aug.”
“Where you headed?”
“Kinleigh’s.”
“Oh. Tell her I said hi.”
“Sure. I might drag her back here for pizza later. Want?”
“Nah, you guys have fun. I have a sub from Robbie’s.”
“Okay, text me if you change your mind. Maybe I’ll stay at Kin’s.” I shrugged. “Depends on my mood.”
“Well, if you get home before ten tomorrow, I can help you paint.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Bye, brat.”
I waved at him and rushed over to my car. Finally, I was getting something done on my truck. Summer was right around the corner. I didn’t really want to drive it all around town, but finding a spot to set up in was tricky.
Licenses and town ordinances were hard to navigate for mobile food businesses. I’d been going blind looking over all the paperwork, but it did keep my mind occupied. I itched to get to work on the truck again, but the rain was definitely putting a damper on that.
I could work on the inside, but I was still waiting on the custom freezer I’d ordered. It was stupid to do too much when I’d have workmen tromping through it, getting it all muddy.
Doing a running tally of my to-do list made short work of my trip into town. I parked a few doors down from Brewed Awakening. I’d worked the sunrise shift at the diner, so it was still fairly early in the day. The sun—when it was actually in the damn sky and not covered by the eternal mist from the lake—was making for longer days as May was quickly dissolving away.
I’d wanted to get the truck done by Memorial Day, but that didn’t look like it was going to happen even if I had a fleet of fairies to help me. Maybe the Fourth of July would be a good stretch goal.
I waved to Kinleigh as I shook off the rain and stomped my boots on the scatter of rugs just inside the doorway. I tossed my bag into the empty chair across from my bestie. “Hey, girl.”
She gave me an arched brow. “What’s going on there?”
I rolled my eyes. “Not everyone can be put together all the time like you.” I dug into my bag for my project notebook.
“Yes, but at least I look like I didn’t pull my clothes off the floor.”
“Shut up.”
“Jeez, Ive.”
“I was working.” These jeans had been on the end of my bed when I’d dragged them on after work. Not exactly on the floor.
“Right, vanilla.”
Just the word made my stomach roll. “Yeah, I’m about to admit defeat. I’m switching to sorbet recipes. That and gelato.”
“Okay, call me for that part.”
I laughed and sat down. “August picked up my paint sprayer.”
“I know.”
I looked up from my checklist. “You do?”
“Yeah.” She twirled one of her strawberry curls around her finger. “He keeps bugging me about the busted lock on my front door. He made me come with him so I could pick out a new one.”
“Oh. Cool.” Not sure how they’d ended up making that hour long trip without killing each other. “Yeah, you definitely have to make sure your door works, idiot.”
She rolled her eyes. “We’re safe as kittens in this town.”
“Dude, if you listened to my podcasts, you would not agree with that sentiment.”
“I do not need to hear about death and dismemberment in a small town, thanks.”
I made a few more notes about paint then stuffed my pen into my notebook and tossed it back in my purse. “It’s fascinating and you know it.”
“Only for freaks like you.”
I stood. “What do you want?”
“I’m hungry. I figured I’d drag you down to the Spinning Wheel, but since you look like that, I’m thinking no.” She narrowed her eyes. “Your plan all along.”
I pressed my lips together. The problem with besties was they knew all your tricks. “Caramel or Strawberry?”
“Surprise me.”
I patted my ass to make sure my debit card was still there and wound my way around the couches and chairs that made up the eclectically cute café. A towering pile of romance novels butted up against horror novels in the reading nook. It was a Friday night, so the projector was set up in the far corner with a pile of teens watching an old school horror movie.
Looked like Freddy Krueger was on the menu tonight.
Wonder what kind of popcorn would go with that? I could go for something salty.
My stomach growled as I waited in line. Macy, the owner, was barking orders to her minions. The espresso machine was working just as hard as the blender. A bin of popcorn was stirring in Macy’s special cheddar and butter blend.
I was going to expire if the line didn’t move a little faster.
Finally, I was next in line behind a teen.
“Do you have milkshakes?”
Internally, I groaned. She obviously wasn’t from Crescent Cove.
“Are they on the menu?” Macy’s voice was pleasant, if you didn’t know her.
“Um, no.”
“Then I don’t have milkshakes.” Macy sighed. “I can do my caff-smoothies and I have coffee blended drinks.”
The teen in front of me put her hands on her hips. “But I don’t do caffeine. It’s not good for you.”
“Then why the hell are you in my place, blondie? It’s a café.”
I smothered a snort.
“You don’t have to be rude.”
“Have you met me?” Macy barked an order over her shoulder. “How about a Coffee Shake minus the coffee. That’s the best I can do.”
“So, a vanilla shake?” The girl twisted the pop socket on her phone.
“Sure, but you’re paying for a coffee shake.”
“That’s fine.”
“Add some orange juice and pineapple juice and it’s perfect,” I said.
The girl turned around. “Really?”
“Surprisingly.”
She turned back to Macy. “Can you do that?”
Macy narrowed her gaze at me. “You gunning for a job, red?”
I laughed. “I’ve got enough of those. But I do know my ice cream.”
“Huh.” Macy moved to the blender and eyeballed a few ingredients then set the blender to spinning. “Get over here, red.”
“Ivy.”
“Right. Whatever.” She poured some of the drink into a mug then plunked it in front of me. “Taste it since you came up with it.”
I came around the side of the counter. It looked magical. I took a sip. “Have any coconut milk?”
She folded her arms. “Now we’re making a tropical shake?”
I shrugged. “Add in some coconut milk, a few coconut shavings, and voila, new menu item that doesn’t cost you a thing.”
Macy followed my recipe then put the blender back on the base. She dumped the rest of the concoction into a to-go cup and set it in front of the blond girl. “On the house.”
“Really?” The girl shoved her cash into her pocket. She took a straw out and pierced the top. “Oh, wow.” Her eyes were almost comically wide with her winged liner. “Yeah, make more of these. My boyfriend will want one.” She took a bigger gulp. “Can I get another free one?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
The girl smiled tightly. “Right. I’ll pay.”
Macy stepped back. “All right, red. Show me what you got.”
“You made it fine.”
“You’re the ice cream expert.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t?” She gave me a bland look.
“I said I know my ice cream.” But I quickly lined up the ingredients she had and made a few alterations, then set the final product in front of her. “There you go.”
Macy flipped over a mug and poured some for herself. “It doesn’t suck.”
I laughed. High praise from the thorny proprietress. She was definitely a take it or leave it sort.
“I’m looking to do something fun for the summer. Interested in a job?” She poured the shake and handed it to one of the café girls. “Charge for a small coffee.”
“You sure?” The dark-haired girl asked.
“Yeah, it’s an experiment.”
“You got it.”
Macy turned back to me. “So, how about it?”
I nibbled my lower lip. It was tempting to take the job, but I really wanted to do something of my own instead of always working around someone else’s idea. “I’m actually trying to get an ice cream truck going for the summer.”
“Like a Mr. Ding-A-Ling?”
“Not quite. More like specialized, homemade ice cream. I’m looking for a spot to park my truck.” I twisted my fingers. It was the first time I’d actually told someone about it beyond my friends and family—and Rory. “Lots of paperwork.”
“Well if your ice cream tastes anything like that concoction—”
“Better,” I blurted out.
“We’ll see.”
Breathe, Ivy.
“How big is this truck?”
My stomach flipped, excitement and nerves twisting together. “It’s a repurposed taco truck.”
Macy tapped one long finger on her folded arms. “I’d have to see it.”
“I just started painting it.”
“How long do you think you’ll need?”
I blew out a slow breath. “I’m hoping for July 4th.”
“Maybe we can work something out. I’d have to test the product. Try it out here and see if people are into it.”
My heart raced. “I can do that. I’ve been testing flavors. I have a few gallons I can bring over to try.”
“All right. If you don’t poison me, we’ll talk about it.”
I laughed. “Wow. I didn’t—I mean, thanks.”
“Someone took a chance on me, I’m just paying it forward. Besides, then people will stop fucking asking about ice cream.”
I grinned. “What if you love it?”
“One step at a time. Bring some by tomorrow at seven? My evenings are less crazy.”
“I can do that. How many would you like me to bring?”
“Half a dozen of your best.”
I swallowed. Holy shit, this was really happening. “You got it.”
