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He sits up, his eyes sparkling as he grins.
“I know just the thing.”
“Strawberry and balsamic vinegar ice cream?” My tummy grumbles, but it’s happy. It’s exactly what I want. Not that I’ve ever had it, but somehow I know it’s exactly what I want.
“Is this okay, babe?” he asks, uncertainty in his voice.
My chin wobbles and I suck in a shaky breath.
Twenty-five minutes later, we’re walking up NW 23rd looking for a shady spot.
“Alright, give it a taste,” he says, nodding at my cone. I lift my eyebrows playfully, and then take a small lick of the bright pink dessert. It’s sweet and bright on my tongue, followed by a slightly sour note. It’s unusual and creamy and cold and so freaking good.
“Mmmm…” I say, wrapping my lips around another bite and practically moaning as I swallow it.
“Damn woman, you trying to kill me?” Derek grumbles.
I look up and his face looks physically pained. His chiseled jaw is tense, his silvery-blue eyes almost black. I lick the ice cream off my lips and he shakes his head and curses under his breath.
“How’s yours?” I ask, suppressing a little chuckle.
He got a scoop of olive oil with chocolate sea salt, and another scoop of chocolate hazelnut bourbon.
“Delicious,” he says, sitting on a green bench beneath a lacy-leaved Japanese maple. “Want a taste?”
I nod, and he takes a big bite, and then leans in to kiss me. It should be gross, and maybe it is, but the mix of the icy, creamy dessert and the heat from his lips has me wiggling in my seat, grateful I brought an extra change of underwear.
“Derek?”
I look up at a pretty redhead with bright blue eyes and an easy smile. A man stands at her side, holding her hand. He looks a little older, his eyes cast downward, and he looks a little unsteady on his feet.
Derek’s shoulders tense, but his smile widens.
“Hey there,” he says, nodding at her.
She gives me a little wave. “I’m Karlie,” she says before Derek even has the chance to introduce us, and there’s something unspoken that passes between them. “And this is Geoff, my husband.”
“Hi Geoff,” Derek says, nodding at the man.
The man nods with a shaky smile and doesn’t make any attempt to shake Derek’s hand.
“And this must be Megan?” she asks.
My stomach tightens and I press my hand to it as Derek places his hand on the back of my neck, almost protectively.
“Yes, this is my Megan,” Derek says, his voice tighter.
“Congratulations,” she says, nodding toward my belly. “They’re having a baby, Geoff,” she says to her husband, who nods in an odd rhythm.
If I didn’t know better, I would think he might have Parkinson’s disease. Or maybe multiple sclerosis? I don’t know enough about either to be certain, and of course, I don’t ask. But I nod and smile, trying to give off the air of a happy, glowing pregnant woman.
“Thank you.” I wait for someone else to speak, to ask after someone so I can get some context, but nothing comes. “So, how do the two of you know each other?”
“Oh.” Karlie blushes and gives Geoff a heavy glance. “We used to see each other. Nothing serious, of course.”
“Right,” Derek says, his smile tight and his fingers kneading a spot in my neck that I hadn’t realized was sore. It feels almost good enough to distract me.
“Well, it’s good to see you. You look happy,” Karlie says, and her eyes light up, and I do believe that she thinks he looks happy. And that she’s happy for him.
