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She cocked her head, a hank of her honey-brown hair—she’d stopped dyeing it a while ago—falling into her face. “To do that, you gotta actually, you know, sin. Early and often.”
“That ball’s in your court.”
“No, the ball’s right here.” She grinned and cupped her stomach. “Go to work,” she said, giving him a light kiss that made him long for more. She always made him long. Sweetly, as she had from the beginning.
He laid his hands over hers and gave her fingers a squeeze. Then he nodded and whistled to Junior, who apparently thought he was a dog and trotted out for a treat.
“See you tonight,” he called, setting off once he’d fed the cats, plural. If there were snacks, Snowdrop wasn’t about to be denied.
“See you,” she called back. She’d be late for sure. Good thing she worked for family.
He worked straight through the morning, busy with several new customers. He’d gotten a great deal on advertising space—he was again renting what he considered “his” billboard—and traffic into the shop was nonstop. He barely managed to escape to go see Rory for lunch as he usually did.
Halfway there, his cell rang. “Hey, what’s up?” he said, hoping she didn’t hear the worry he wasn’t good at hiding. She rarely called during the day. What if—
No. There were only good what-ifs in their world now.
“I need you to go pick up something.”
A spear of panic shot into his throat. “What’s wrong?”
“I want ice cream.” She dropped her voice conspiratorially. “That blackberry kind from Triple Scoop. What’s it called?”
“Black Thunder. I’ll get you some after work.” He let out a long breath and shifted the phone to his other hand. “Sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely. But I have to have that ice cream. Can you get me a quart? You can get two spoons,” she added when he didn’t reply.
“I’d have to go home and get my car.“
“It’s a craving. I need it, Sam.”
He suppressed a sigh and altered his route. She’d said the magic word. When it came to cravings, there was no saying no. “Gimme half an hour.”
“Thank you!” Her delighted squeal seemed a little much, but he never questioned a pregnant woman’s desire for dairy products. “Sam?”
On the verge of clicking off, he frowned. “Yeah?”
“It’s such a pretty day. Maybe you should bring your camera.”
“Why? Want a picture of the giant inflatable cone on top of Triple Scoop?”
Laughing, she hung up.
Maybe she wanted to go for a walk along the harbor near her work. Hard to say with her. But he brought his camera just the same.
Half an hour later, he’d paid for her quart of ice cream and was on his way to JD Signage. Instead of taking the back roads, he decided to make the trip on the highway since she was right, it was a beautiful day. Might as well check out his incredible logo.
Except there was a bright blue billboard where his was supposed to
be. What the fuck? He’d paid for the whole quarter, just as he was supposed to. His billboard’s background wasn’t blue. It was green, to match the new sign he’d gotten for the front of his shop.
Idling at the entrance to the highway, he flipped out his phone and punched the first speed dial. Who the hell had hijacked his sign? It was supposed to say Sam’s Classics, not Marry Me, Sam.
He slammed the car into Park just as Rory’s cheery voice chirped in his ear. “Got my ice cream?”
“I—what—how?”
“You drive to Triple Scoop, ask for a quart of Black Thunder, give them your money.”
