8. Phoenix #2
Okay, it happened when I was alone in the dark, too, especially after what had happened between us on the couch. Fuck, I was so not thinking about that right now when we still had to go up the path to get to the ice cream stand.
I knew I was rambling when I started speaking, but I couldn’t help myself. “They make the best toppings in the world. I always have a hard time choosing since I love all of them equally and without prejudice.”
“Sounds like extraordinary toppings,” he replied.
“And no line! Yes!” I declared, bounding over and tugging him along since he still hadn’t let go of my hand. “They have blackberry and peaches. Can I have both, please, in a large sundae cup, with whipped cream and lemon zest on top?”
“Coming right up,” the lady at the counter replied while Parker studied the list of topping flavors written in bold green and pink on the chalkboard attached to the side of the stand.
“And what would you suggest for a first-timer?” Parker asked after he’d stared at it for over a minute.
“Hmmm,” I hummed as I studied the list again. “Cherry, since you asked for three in every Tropical Thunder you got. Why not just order the cherry bombs? Those are always amazing unless Lanny is pouring. Then they taste like cough syrup.”
“Lanny was pouring,” he replied.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Between the deadpanned voice and grim expression, he sounded tired, bored, and completely unamused. I low-key felt chastised by his expression and snickered more as I turned away.
“Never mind,” I muttered, barely getting the words out before I started laughing again.
“Here you go, hun, enjoy,” the clerk said when she returned with my sundae. “And can I get you anything, sir?”
“Cherry vanilla sundae, please,” Parker said, “and some extra napkins for when he snorts ice cream all over the place.”
And I almost did too. In my haste to get the first spoonful to my lips, I laughed at the most inopportune moment and got ice cream on my nose instead.
“Make that extra, extra on the napkins, please,” Parker declared as he used the one that had come with my sundae to dab at the spot.
I slipped her a twenty when she returned with his sundae and the extra napkins before turning to glare him down when he tried to protest.
“Fine,” he grumbled before sliding his wallet back in his pocket. “But dinner is on me, and I won’t hear any arguments out of you, either.”
Damn, he kind of trapped me with that one.
“If you insist,” I grumbled.
“I do, and I know just where to take us too, if you don’t mind continuing on this road for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Didn’t you say we were going to see where the day takes us?”
“I did.”
“Then this road is as good as any other.”
“I can’t believe we wound up here, of all places,” he said. “I always meant to come back, but I couldn’t remember how.”
“Why didn’t you just ask whoever you were with?”
He tsked and appeared almost embarrassed when he answered. “We arrived via luxury bus as part of this epic food and wine tour where they got to take pictures of us with the products at all the stops and post them on social media, and it didn’t cost us a thing to sample as much as we liked.”
“Damn, sounds like one hell of a good deal to me.”
“Oh, it was. It ended with my wine rack a dozen bottles fuller, though I’m sure I easily sampled three times as many with all the places we went.
We had so much food shoved in front of us, I don’t even remember it all.
There was a huge assortment of chocolates and cheeses too.
I brought an entire bag home filled with sample boxes I took great delight in going through when I opened the wine.
Hell, I can admit it, I completely indulged myself and created a gourmet menu to go with each bottle, complete with dessert. ”
“Bet you cursed when it came time to do the dishes.”
“Every damned time.”
“Still did it again the next time, though.”
“Yup.”
“I’m the same way.”
“Yeah, I’d already gotten that impression, but thanks for confirming it,” he said, using that dry, deadpanned voice again.
“The only thing I still can’t figure out about that night was how the hell my slipper got stuck behind the dresser in my bedroom.
Especially when I didn’t fall asleep in there.
But when I woke up in the living room, I was in my boxers and robe in my easy chair, one slipper on, one I searched for until I almost gave up and bought another pair. ”
“At least you hadn’t thrown the other slipper out before you found its twin.”
“I’d have been pissed. I loved that pair. I cried when they finally fell apart. I even held a memorial service for them.”
“I’m calling bullshit on that one.”
“And you’d be right to,” he replied, a smear of ice cream on his upper lip that he licked away before I could muster up the courage to round the table and do it myself. “There were tears shed, though. At least three. Maybe four. It was a truly tragic day for my wardrobe.”
“I imagine so,” I replied, nearly smacking myself in the nose with my ice cream for the second time today. Snickers turned to full-on laughter when I started to picture how many of those extra napkins he was going to go through if I kept it up.
My overactive imagination was not helpful in a time like this.
“I’ve never found another pair quite like them,” he mused, still as emotionless as before. “It’s sad. They used to greet me at the door with a welcoming hug for my feet.”
It was a good thing the bench was attached to the table or I’d have tipped over backward by now, I was laughing so hard. It took gulping in air and picturing everything but little cloth arms wrapped around his toes before I could focus enough to eat a couple more bites of my ice cream.
Even that was made harder when I glanced up and saw him watching me with that blank expression on his face.
“If your ploy is to steal bites of my sundae while I’m laughing too hard to defend it, forget about it. I refuse to find you funny anymore,” I declared.
“I’d say I was more charming than witty, but I’ve been told on more than one occasion that my charm falls flat when there isn’t a bit of humor sprinkled in.”