Chapter Seventeen
LATER THAT EVENING, they left the Shrimp Shack laughing at another of their horrible jokes, just as they’d been doing while they’d stuffed their faces with shrimp tacos. Zander couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a good time.
As they headed down the street to the local ice cream shop, he bumped Shauna with his shoulder and said, “Do you think it’s possible to become emotionally attached to a shrimp taco? Because that last one was shrimply perfect.”
She laughed. “There you go again, being shellfish, making me listen to your horrible jokes.”
“Now, that was bad.”
They both laughed.
“Admit it,” he said. “You dig my horrible jokes. You’re just bummed you didn’t take me up on sharing the last taco.”
“You put enough hot sauce on it to burn a hole in your gut. You’ll pay for it later, and I’m not coming to your rescue.”
“I’ve got a gut of steel, but on the off chance I keel over tonight, tell Zeke I said he has to marry you so you get your money.”
“Look at you, already passing me off on someone else. Speaking of your brother, does he know we’re getting married? Have you broken the news to the rest of your family yet?”
“Not yet. Who are you going to let in on this secret? I don’t think we should tell too many people the truth, in case the attorney sends a PI to check out our story.”
“I should tell Cap, but I’m not going to tell the guys I work with. Howie might tell his wife, and Mike’s got loose lips.”
“Then it’s probably best not to mention it. I’m planning on telling my family when I see them at work this week. We need a witness for the wedding, and I’m sure my parents will offer.”
“I forgot about a witness.”
“I’ll see what they say, and while I’m at it, maybe I’ll inform Zeke that he’s my replacement if I keel over, so you don’t have to tell him.”
She gave him a disbelieving look. “You’re not dying, and I am not marrying your brother.”
Good. The last thing he wanted was for her to hook up with his brother…or anyone else. But now he was committed to the ruse. “Why not? Zeke’s a great guy.”
“How can I marry anyone else when I’ll be in mourning for lack of bad jokes?”
He grinned. “Then wear black and fake cry when you say your vows.”
“I’m not saying vows,” she insisted.
“I do is a vow.” He pulled open the door to the ice cream shop, and bells chimed above them. “Hear that? That’s the universe agreeing with me.”
“You need to get your hearing checked. All I heard was This guy’s a nut. Run!”
He laughed and followed her inside.
As they stood in line, she glanced around them at the colorful booths with cups of crayons on wide tables and gigantic murals of ice cream cones and sundaes on yellow walls.
She lifted her gaze to the pink ceiling, painted to look like it was covered in rainbow sprinkles, and said, “This place is awesome.”
“Wait until you taste the ice cream.”
She leaned against him and said, “I hope you meant what you said about no limit on scoops, because ice cream is my guilty pleasure. How about you?”
“Ice cream’s a fun treat.” He lowered his voice for her ears only and said, “But my guilty pleasure involves licking other things.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but there was no missing the heat rising in them.
“What do you say we make this a scandalous Sunday?” he asked.
She blinked several times, disbelief replacing the heat in those pretty eyes. “I’m not…We’re not…”
“Relax, Angel. I’m talking about sharing the Scandalous Sundae.
” He pointed to the chalkboard. “Five scoops and five toppings. If you’re not up to it, we can go for the four-scoop Sweet Surrender.
There’s no shame if you need something smaller.
Not everyone can handle that much pleasure all at once. ”
She boldly held his gaze. “I can handle more pleasure than you can imagine.”
Damn, he liked that confidence. “Watch yourself, Flores. I’ve got an insatiable imagination for pleasure.”
“So I’ve heard,” she shot back. “Are we doing this, or are you one of those guys who are all talk?”
Before he could answer, she stepped up to the counter. He’d been so caught up in their banter, he hadn’t even realized the other customers had finished ordering.
A few minutes later they were sitting side by side in a booth with their Scandalous Sundae between them, spoons in hand. He eyed a heap of whipped cream on a mountain of chocolate-chip ice cream, covered in chocolate sauce and all the toppings. “I don’t know, Flores. You might not survive this.”
With a challenging expression, she plunged her spoon into the sundae, scooping up a pile of chocolate-chip ice cream with a hefty amount of whipped cream, chocolate syrup, nuts, and chocolate sprinkles, topped with the biggest cherry he’d ever seen.
As she lifted it toward her mouth, it wobbled, and she dove forward to catch it, a few sprinkles landing on her shirt.
He laughed, and her hand flew over her mouth, her eyes dancing with laughter.
“I can’t believe you stole the best bite as fast as you could.”
“Oh, did you want that bite?” she asked innocently.
“I literally made eye contact with it.”
“That’s a little concerning.” She filled her spoon with whipped cream and chocolate sauce. “Maybe you should consult a therapist.”
“I’ll give you a therapist.” He glanced at the sundae. “At least you left me a cherry.”
As he reached for it, she snagged the stem with her fingers and popped the cherry into her mouth, her dimples deepening as she ate it.
“What the hell?” He laughed. “You broke the cardinal rules of sundae sharing.”
She pointed her spoon at him. “It’s not my fault you’re blabbing instead of eating.”
“I see how you are.” He dipped his spoon into the peppermint ice cream, then tapped it to the tip of her nose.
“Hey!” She wiped it with a napkin, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t waste the goods.”
“You’re lucky it only ended up on your nose.”
“Is that a threat?” She dipped her finger in the chocolate sauce and sucked it off.
She was killing him. Those plump lips wrapped around her finger and her gorgeous eyes, glimmering tauntingly, were trouble waiting to happen.
Gritting his teeth against their mounting attraction, he stabbed the sundae with his spoon, and she scooped the chocolate sauce from the top of it.
As he lifted his eyes to hers, she dipped her finger in the chocolate again, and her hand shot out, painting his cheek with it as she howled with laughter.
“I can’t believe you did that. I should make you lick it off.” He grabbed a napkin.
“Dream on, Casanova.”
He hauled her across the bench, and she squealed as he locked his arm around her. “Get that tongue ready, Flores.”
“I’m not licking you!” She buried her face in his neck, cracking up.
“You assaulted me with chocolate. You gotta pay the price.”
She tried to wriggle out of his grip as he stuck his finger in the ice cream.
“Don’t you dare!” she warned.
“That sounds like a challenge to me.”
He painted a Z on her cheek, and she squealed. She was too fucking cute, laughing and trying to get free as he tugged her closer, said, “I marked you like Zorro,” and then dragged his tongue up her cheek, licking the sweetness from her skin.
“Zander!”
She tried to push out of his arms, but he kept her close.
They were both cracking up as their eyes connected with the impact of a thunderclap, commanding attention as everything else faded away.
Silence stretched between them, hot and hesitant.
She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip, restraint and desire battling in her eyes.
Fuck. What am I doing?
She wasn’t some chick looking for a good time, and she didn’t need the likes of him mucking this up for her. She needed a friend who would do right by her, and damn it, he was going to be that guy.
Letting go of her was harder than it should have been, and for a split second he thought he saw a flicker of something similar in her eyes.
But in the next breath, she was snagging a napkin like nothing had happened.
Either he needed to get a fucking grip, or she was as good at switching gears as he was.
He was starting to think it was the latter.
“Don’t mess with a Wicked, darlin’. We always win.”
“We’ll see about that.” As she wiped his cheek, she said, “You’re a mess.”
He grabbed a napkin to wipe his face. “At least my shirt’s clean. You dropped some sprinkles in your feeding frenzy.”
She looked down at her chest. “Were you checking out my boobs?”
“No.” He laughed.
“Mm-hm. Careful, Wicked. We don’t want to blur those fake-relationship lines.” She lifted the top of her shirt and lowered her chin, licking the sprinkles off it.
Yeah, definitely the latter. “Now you’re just trying to make me jealous.”
She rolled her eyes and ate another bite of ice cream. “This is the best decision we’ve made since we met.”
“Better than helping Brian?” he asked.
“No, but it’s a close second.”
“Hey,” he said gently. “How are you feeling about the whole Brian thing? You haven’t talked much about him tonight.”
She pushed her spoon around a scoop of chocolate ice cream.
“I’m worried about him, but I know we did the right thing.
He’s where he needs to be, and now it’s up to him to follow through.
I kind of hate that he won’t let me visit, but if that’s what it takes for him to get better, then I’m okay with it.
” She set a warm gaze on Zander. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me with all of this. ”
“I’m glad you let me.” As she lifted a spoonful of ice cream dripping in chocolate sauce toward her mouth, he said, “Little did I know I was engaged to a dessert thief. I think I need to add a clause to our prenup.”
“We don’t have a prenup.” She ate the spoonful of ice cream.
“We do now.” He pushed a clean napkin in front of her and grabbed a crayon from the cup, putting it on the napkin. “Write this down.” He tapped the napkin. “Zander shall get the first bite of every sundae from this date forward.”