“That maybe I should ask Alfie to look into ordering us all some branded T-shirts to wear. We looked at it ages ago, before we first opened, but I couldn’t find any I liked. I think I needto stop being so picky, though. Whatever Alfie picks will be perfect.”
“Sounds good. And letting Alfie choose them is a good idea, take some weight off your shoulders.” He grinned. “Proud of you.”
“Thanks.” I smiled back at him as my stomach squirmed, my heart spinning giddily at his praise. I hadn’t felt this happy in a long time, but when I was around Owen, somehow it was easy.
“Now you’ve made that decision, do you want some breakfast?”
“Yes, definitely! What do you fancy? There’s a couple of cafes down by the front, and there’s Novel Tea if you want more tea and pastries. I’m sure there are more places too.”
“Have you been to Peace, Love & Pancakes?” Owen asked. “My brother took me and the nibs there not long after I moved back. It’s an American diner, and they do all kind of classic American breakfasts and stuff. They do this amazing French toast with berries, maple syrup, and whipped cream, and you can get a version of it stuffed with cream cheese. And they do a banging breakfast burrito too.”
“Let’s go there then,” I said, because all of those sounded delicious. Honestly, as long as it didn’t have bananas anywhere near it then I’d try anything.
“Awesome!” He reached down and slipped his hand into mine, picking up his backpack with the other and slinging it over his shoulder.
We made our way out into the street, Owen steering me in the direction of the diner, his hand gripping mine tightly. It felt so natural, like we’d done this a thousand times before. It was comforting too, in a way I couldn’t quite explain. All I knew was I wanted Owen to keep holding my hand and stay by my side.
Part of me knew, deep down, it couldn’t be forever. Owen’s contract only lasted until the end of September, and I didn’tthink he’d want to stay any longer. After all, he’d spent his whole life exploring the world, why would he want to give that up to work at an ice cream parlour on the Yorkshire coast? It wasn’t exactly glamorous. Or warm.
Heather Bay did have swimming though, and he could probably surf.
But… we’d be closed in the winter, or at least running extremely limited hours, so he would be able to travel if he wanted. I wouldn’t mind.
As long as he came back in the spring.
Because the other thing I was starting to realise was that I needed Owen here. Lick It! might have been my dream, and I might have two amazing friends to run it with, but it wasn’t the only thing I wanted in my life.
After all, what good was a dream if you didn’t have someone to share it with?
“I was thinking,” Owen said as we walked. “About the tiramisu flavour. You know we get our milk from local dairies? Do any of them sell mascarpone? Or something similar if it’s a protected product. Just thinking about how we can support more local producers. Obviously, we have the coffee, which is awesome, and the milk, which is also awesome, but I wondered if we could get a triple awesome. It might not be possible, but I thought it was worth asking.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But we can definitely ask. I think a triple awesome would be awesome too.”
“I knew you’d get it.” Owen grinned and my chest clenched.
Please come back to me, I thought suddenly. I didn’t care if he left, if he needed to wander and roam and see the sunrise over every beach.
As long as he came back to me at the end of it.
Because I wasn’t sure if I could do this without him.
Chapter Twelve
Owen
Peace,Love & Pancakes was an adorable little American-diner-style place tucked away on one side of town with a hand-painted sign and big windows with rainbow bunting hanging across the top of them. It had this lovely welcoming feel, the smell of fresh coffee, pancakes and sizzling bacon greeting you as soon as you walked through the door.
The walls were a mix of exposed brick and primrose yellow, with vintage-style posters and photos covering parts of it. There were booths lining the walls and Formica tables with padded chairs filling the spaces, each with little jars of daisies and carnations sitting next to the packets of sugar, paper napkins, and salt and pepper shakers.
There was a counter at the front and behind that a window into the kitchen. More bunting was hung across the counter, and next to the till, in a little pot of pens, was a tiny American flag next to a Progress Pride one.
It was owned by Faith, an American woman originally from Georgia, and her wife, Louise, and the pair of them madeeveryone who came in feel like family. Their breakfast menu was a work of art, and the last time I’d been here I’d spent ages chatting to Faith about it, because it was everything I loved about cooking. It was the perfect balance of familiar, comforting, and delicious, and had allowed Faith to bring a little bit of her home to Yorkshire, celebrating the best of both parts of the world.
The result was a menu which wasn’t fully American but not English either—just a tasty mash-up of the two.
I was surprised Darcy hadn’t been here before, but from what he’d said, he hadn’t done much more than renovate the shop, open the shop, and make ice cream since he’d moved back. With the occasional breaks for sleep, meals, and washing.
With luck, getting him out and about would make him realise he didn’t have to be attached to Lick It! twenty-four-seven, although hopefully our hookups were starting to help him see that too. And if not, I was happy to keep taking him to bed until he did.
