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A group of boys flew past them on skateboards, chased by giggling girls. She suddenly realized he seemed to know the town well.
"I didn't know you were familiar with Verily."
"I'm not."
She swung her head around. His profile was strong and graceful in the dying sun, even marred by the horrible frames of his glasses. "Then how do you know there's an ice cream place open?"
"A quaint, artistic river town in New York on Main Street. Are you kidding? They always have ice cream."
She shook her head. "You didn't even have dinner yet."
"I'm a rebel."
Kennedy smiled.
They reached the small cafe, Xpressions, which boasted gourmet treats and homemade ice cream chock full of calories, fat, and deliciousness. Nate took his time picking out the flavor, requesting samples of the Raspberry Razzle and Chocolate Truffle. She thought about getting a fat-free frozen yogurt, but it was just too pathetic even to bother with. He turned to her with a serious frown. "If it was up to you, what flavor would you get?"
A bit of grumpiness overtook her. "Why get fruit in an ice cream? It's pointless."
He tapped the small plastic spoon against his mouth. "Brilliant theory. I'll take a double scoop, please. Chocolate Truffle and the Peanut Butter Bash."
Her stomach growled. She tried to remind herself that she had a perfectly proportioned piece of poached salmon and unbuttered green beans at home waiting for her. "Peanut butter is also high in fat. You just picked the two worst flavors to guarantee the clogging of arteries."
He gasped in mock horror. "Worse than the Cake Batter or Cookie Dough?"
"Fine. It's your funeral."
"Oh and on one of those homemade waffle cones, please. Sure you don't want one? They have frozen yogurt."
She glared. "No, thanks."
His face relaxed into the joy of a child as he attacked the ice cream cone, a bunch of napkins wrapped around the base. "Let's sit for a few minutes."
"I have to get home."
"Just a minute."
She huffed but led him to the carved bench by the dog park. They watched the dogs run and play in wild abandon, while they sat under a twisted elm tree. A man wrapped his arms around his lover and stole a kiss by the wire fence. Ken relaxed. She hadn't come out for a walk in a while. It was kind of nice to just sit and enjoy the sights of Verily.
"I love New York. Always amazed me you can hike the mountains, ride a horse, and see a Broadway play all within an hour of each other. Have you lived in Verily your whole life?" he asked.
"No, we all attended NYU and lived in Manhattan. Then Arilyn, Kate, and I visited for a weekend and fell in love. We decided to open Kinnections and settle here. How about you?"
He snorted around his ice cream. "I ended up in California at the Dryden Flight Research Center. My goal was always NASA, I just wasn't sure what base I'd end up with, but I'm a numbers guy. Always been fascinated by physics and the challenge of manipulating information and equations to increase efficiency. My teachers couldn't keep up with me, so it was only a matter of time before NASA came knocking. When it dismantled, the private sector exploded. I was able to come back to New York and enjoy working for a reclusive techno billionaire who wants to fiddle with space travel. But trust me, the astronauts and pilots are the ones who get the glory. And the girls."
She watched a trail of chocolate ice cream drip onto his spotless lab coat and smothered a laugh. He looked down and muttered a curse. "Damn, I almost got through the day without a stain. I'm running out of coats. Here, hold this."
He shoved the cone into her hands and tried to mop up the mess with the napkins. Kennedy stared at the gorgeous, shiny, drippy ice cream cone in front of her. Pieces of chocolate truffle peeked out from beneath. A chunk of peanut butter whispered her name. Sanity tugged at the fringes of her mind until a moan from Nate caught her off guard.
"What's the matter?"
"Stomachache," he said.
She raised a brow. "You think? Look at this monster. I warned you about dinner."
"You gotta finish it."
Her heart pounded and her palms began to sweat. "No! I can't eat this. I'll cut off five years of my life and gain ten pounds."
"Don't be so dramatic. I refuse to waste a good cone. I ate most of it, just have a little so I don't feel guilty."
"But I--"
"I had the top half of my face ripped off today. Eat the cone, Kennedy."
"Oh, for God's sake, fine." The first lick caused a tiny shudder of pleasure to explode along her nerve endings. "This is ridiculous. I didn't eat dinner either."
"Good, we'll be sick together."
The second bite almost put her into cardiac arrest. The third and it was all over.
She was so happy.
A whimper escaped, and she didn't care. She attacked the cone with more enthusiasm. After all, she was doing him a favor. "So, if you're studying propulsion, you're really dealing with velocity. Are you trying to manipulate the formula in order to reach higher efficiency?"
He jerked back and gave her an odd look. A warning bell sounded in her brain, but it was too muted from the sugar rush. He spoke very slowly, as if trying to balance his words, but his gaze shred her to pieces and seemed to rationalize every part. "Yes, but everything works together. In order to change the velocity, you need the right balance of impulse to propel momentum. The thrust equation depends on the mass flow through the engine and the exit velocity."
"Got it. Do you think the use of chemical rockets is the most efficient?"
Oh, God, the peanut butter hit the piece of truffle and exploded in her mouth like a double orgasm. She crossed her legs and squeezed tight, trying to get herself under control.
Nate cleared his throat. "No, I believe a nonchemical solution where an external source of electrical energy accelerates the propellant that provides the thrust is better. But if I reach a breakthrough on my research, the entire equation and use of the formula will change, which will give us another option." He suddenly seemed to notice Kennedy's enthusiasm for the ice cream cone and smiled. "It's really good, isn't it?"
"Yes, so good."
"You have some on your chin. Stay still." He reached over and dragged the napkin over her mouth, chin, and down her neck. She swirled her tongue around and around the cone and finally got to the crunchy part and took a bite. The crisp, warm wafer melted in her mouth. Heaven. Just one more bite and she'd throw the rest away. She'd eaten enough to make him happy.
"Funny, the way they break down the whole equation, huh?" she commented as she continued munching away. "It translates to people quite well. A person follows an impulse, which propels momentum and creates a change in life. But if one is too impulsive, the momentum could pick up too much speed and cause complete disaster. Life is a balance, I guess."
"But if one remains stagnant, and never follows an impulse, there is no rocket launch at all."
She ate the rest of the cone, and the sugar buzzed hot in her veins as happiness flooded through her. "Yes. I guess you're right. Unless you're very happy where you are, and then who needs a rocket ride?"
Suddenly, she looked up and found him closer than expected. He had slid over on the bench until his shoulder pressed into hers. His gaze studied her mouth, caressing her face, and the wave of his hair spilled over his brow, making her fingers crave to reach out and stroke the strands back. The ice cream high faded and was replaced by an electrical current based on pure, hot, no-holds-barred, down-and-dirty sex.
"Ken?"
"Yeah?" she squeaked.
The dogs barked. The clang of the gate opening and closing drifted in the air. The breeze tugged the strands of her hair and blew them wildly about. She caught the scent of mint, soap, and rich chocolate. Everything blurred and faded like a movie set gone dark. Nothing mattered except for the slow descent of his mouth toward hers.
"Promise me something."
Her body hummed and softened, ready to come out and play. Her core ache
d for his touch on her naked skin, his tongue back in her mouth, his voice whispering her name so sweetly, like nothing she'd ever heard in her life.
"What?" she whispered.
He pushed back her hair with a gentleness that contradicted the hot lust in his eyes.
