Page 26 of View With Your Heart

Britton shakes her head, her blond hair swaying like curtains in the breeze. “No, I didn’t eat all the candy.” I hold my breath waiting on her to call me sport, but she doesn’t.

“So? Ice cream?” It’s safer than a drink but also less intimate, and I realize I need to use kid gloves here if I want to get close to her again. And I want to get close to her in more ways than I thought.

+ + +

We step out into the warm late summer evening and stroll through Traverse City until we find a newer ice cream shop than the one I remember.

“Lick It? That isn’t seriously its name,” I tease.

“It is, as in I licked it, and it’s mine.” Britton giggles after speaking, and two things turn my head quickly in her direction as I open the door for her. One thing is how much her laughter goes straight down my chest to another place on me, and the second thing is how that place has a mind of its own regarding licking and calling her mine. Her face heats, turning a sweet shade of light pink as she avoids my stare once we’ve stepped inside. I’d like to lick her, tracing the spreading color to see how far it spreads, and instantly, I recall doing something similar, using my tongue to outline various parts of her body.

God, she was so sweet, so responsive then.

“They even have an ice cream called Blue Balls,” she adds, digging her embarrassment deeper, and the pink color brushing her skin turns brighter. “It’s two scoops of blueberry ice cream.”

“No shit.” I laugh.

“Thankfully, that’s not the name of their chocolate ice cream,” she jokes.

“Ew.” I laugh harder, and her face turns even darker red.

“Sorry. I spend too much time with a twelve-year-old boy and now a seventeen-year-old teen.” She swipes at her hair, and my fingers twitch to follow the path, touch her skin just under her ear, and nip at her neck like I often did after she made this signature move.

“Yeah, how did you end up with him?”

“Which one?” Her head sharply turns toward me, eyes narrowing.

“Either. Both. You said Gee is twelve. That’s pretty close to a year after I saw you.” Britton’s eyes widen, but it’s our turn to order, and her head swivels toward the kid asking to take our order.

“Ah, just mint chocolate chip in a sugar cone, please.” Her standby order brings more reminders of ice cream dates at a local place in Elk Lake City and nights of making out in my dad’s truck afterward.

Jesus. I need to settle down on the memories, especially the ones of her spread over my thighs, grinding into my zipper, causing us both to lose our minds as we kissed like we needed the other to breathe.

Britton is quiet once I order. I go for the Michigan favorite Superman, which is really vanilla-tinged fluorescent colors of yellow, blue, and pink. Once we each have a cone, we step outside and walk down the street a bit, giving ourselves space from the busyness outside the ice cream shop.

“So, Gee? He loves baseball, obviously, which I think is cool. What else can you share? Tell me something else that makes him great besides being your son?”

“Why?” Britton asks. Lowering her cone, she stares up at me, and I shrug.

“I don’t know. Isn’t that what moms do? Talk about their kids?”

“Is that really what you want to talk about?” The question throws me off. I want to know more about her, and I’m assuming he’s a central element to her life. I want to know about her marriage, her business, ballet, and why she decided to settle here. I want to know everything.

“Don’t you?”

She shakes her head, looking off in the distance. “It isn’t that I don’t want to speak about Gee. He’s wonderful. He’s the love of my life. He’s my son, but I was hoping to go out tonight and not be a mom for a few minutes.” When her bright blue eyes turn back to me, I freeze. Is she wanting something from me? I’d give her anything at this moment to have her looking at me like she did that weekend. The weekend those innocent eyes lowered in sultry acceptance of my proposition. The weekend where sex-satisfied eyes looked up at me when she was under me.

Then again, it wasn’t all about sex. Her eyes sparkle when she laughs and hold something special when she talks about Gee. As we stand here eating ice cream, I realize what I’ve missed most about Britton is her. I miss hanging out with her, doing casual things, and laughing. These are things I haven’t done in years.

“Fine. No mom questions.” I wink at her as I take another lick of my ice cream, letting the coolness linger on my tongue. Britton’s sapphire eyes heat at the motion, turning a brighter blue, and I stroke my tongue over the cold scoop once more just to witness those eyes sizzling.

“I have a question.” Her eyes drop, and she licks at her ice cream before asking, “What about you? Married? Children?”

I scoff. “Not married. No children.”

Britton takes a long lick of her ice cream, circling the scoop with the flat of her tongue, and my dick tightens, imagination running wild with thoughts of her tongue stroking over me like that cold treat.

“Against marriage, huh? And children?”