boy who knew his own mind. Rick smiled with pride as he stepped around Chris and mussed the boy’s curly black hair. “That’s exactly what I want, too,” he said. “With extra sprinkles.” He was a lucky man. If only the lucky man could find a couple more hours every day to spend with his son, his life would be perfect. “Oh, and put on another shirt. That one looks like you’ve already had a little chocolate chocolate.”
Summer Adair glanced in the front window of Benson’s Ice Creamery, debating the expense. Actually, she was debating whether or not she could buy Alyssa a scoop of vanilla and not succumb to the temptation herself. Pennies counted these days. Especially lately, when there weren’t so many of them coming in, and the ones she had saved were, of necessity, guarded carefully. Grace Corbett had left her a nice sum, enough to help her get by for a while if she was careful. Very generous, considering that Grace had been her employer, not a family member. And there was the cottage … that was a huge blessing. Small, and just on the edge of the Gracie Estate, it was perfect for her and Alyssa. More than that, it was all hers! Another instance of Grace’s generosity. Her very own home … it was the first time she’d ever owned anything of her own outside a few trifles. With this new life and new opportunities simply handed to her, Summer was still a cautious woman in everything she did, including wasting money on a little treat for herself.
“Do you want some ice cream?” she asked Alyssa, positive her daughter, aged four, wouldn’t say no, especially to the bright lights and pretty colors of Benson’s—all designed to capture a child’s eye. Sure, she bought ice cream at the grocery store occasionally. But, darn it, you had to indulge your child sometimes, didn’t you? God knew, there hadn’t been many indulgences for either her or Alyssa since Grace Corbett had died. But here she was, debating a scoop of ice cream like it was a new car she was purchasing. Thinking in those terms, it seemed a little silly, actually. Especially since it was for Alyssa.
“Ice cream, Mommy,” Alyssa said, standing on tiptoe to look into the parlor window. “Can we please go in?”
“Tough choices inside,” a deep, familiar voice commented from over her shoulder.
Rather than turning to see him, she looked at Rick Navarro in the window’s reflection, and bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from grinning a schoolgirl grin that stretched from ear to ear. She really liked Rick. Handsome man. Bronzed skin. Large, broad shoulders. To-die-for wavy black hair. Nice smile. A real breath-taker, if you were inclined to want your breath taken. Which she wasn’t. Still, she was human. Flesh and blood, beating heart that was beating a couple ticks faster now that his breath was tickling the back of her neck. And he was a very nice view, even in reflection. Something she’d been trying not to notice for months. Failing miserably, however. “Not when you have a picky eater. She likes vanilla.”
“No sprinkles?” he asked.
Summer shook her head. “So far she hasn’t wandered into the world of sprinkles. I’ve tried keeping things a little more simple than that.” She glanced at Chris, who was pointing out to Alyssa a picture in Benson’s window of an ice-cream cone with sprinkles. “Although I suppose it’s coming, isn’t it?”
“Probably sooner than you think. So, would you two ladies care to join us two gents for ice cream?” Rick asked. “With sprinkles?”
“Sprinkles?” Alyssa mimicked, pointing to the picture in the window. “Can I have sprinkles, too, Mommy?” “You’ve started something,” Summer said to Rick. He tossed Summer a wink. “Wait until she knows she can have whipped cream and a cherry on top. That’s when the fun really begins because it will lead to things like ice-cream sundaes, banana splits, milk shakes …”
“Oh, I think sprinkles are enough for one day.” Did she look pathetic, gazing into the store longingly, nose pressed to the window? Or was Rick simply being kind? He was a nice man. Also, her boss, part time. So far, though, there hadn’t been a reason for anything other than loosely casual, translated to mean safe at a distance—the way she tried to keep herself with everybody. “Then it’s an ice-cream date?” OK, maybe not as loosely casual as she’d thought. But the word date startled her a little. She didn’t date. Wouldn’t date. Wouldn’t budge on her position about that either. Of course, she was sure Rick hadn’t meant anything by date. She was also sure she had to quit overreacting to things that weren’t meant to be anything other than what they were. Like this. It was meant to be ice cream. Nothing more. Yet overreacting was a foible of her nature, more ingrained than she wanted it to be, especially these past couple of years. “An ice-cream … date. For one, though. I, um … I don’t indulge.”
“Only one?” Rick asked, holding the parlor door open for them. “Am I going to have to use some fancy persuasion to get you to change your mind?”
Chris went in first, and ran straight to the see-through display of all forty kinds of ice cream. Alyssa got caught up in the excitement and broke right away from her mother, which caused Summer to panic. She didn’t let go of her daughter in public. Not ever. Too many things could go wrong in the blink of an eye, and while this was only a small ice-cream shop where nothing was more than a few feet away from her, the sensation of fear, mixed with the need to grab Alyssa and run, nearly doubled her over. She resisted the outward manifestations, of course. Over time, being a single mother, the way she was, she’d gotten good at putting on the right outward appearance for the occasion, even when her gut was knotting and her lungs were going into spasm. Like they were doing right now. “I’m not much of an ice-cream eater,” she said stepping up behind Alyssa, who was busy peering into the case at all the different kinds of ice cream.
“What are these?” her daughter asked innocently, pointing to the virtual rainbow of colors.
Proof of a sheltered life, Summer thought, taking hold of Alyssa’s hand, instantly feeling better. “Ice cream comes in different flavors, and different flavors come in different colors.”
“Would you like some samples?” the boy on the other side of the case asked. He was about sixteen, seemed harmless. Wasn’t paying more attention to one person than another, Summer noted, finally relaxing a little.
“She likes vanilla,” Summer said, deliberately not looking at the disappointment she knew would be registering on Alyssa’s face. OK, so her own panic reactions were about to ruin her daughter’s whole experience. Summer couldn’t help the panic. It was a given in her life now. Always on caution. But to deprive Alyssa because of her problems? She couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t do that. “But, yes, a few samples would be good. Thank you.”
“Chris is really into the chocolate chocolate,” Rick suggested from behind her.
Standing so close to her, his voice practically in her ear … Summer startled again. Sucked in a sharp breath, held it until the panic passed, then let it out. “Chocolate chocolate’s fine,” she said, then also picked out one sample of strawberry, and one of mint chocolate chip for her daughter.
“You’re really not going to have anything?” Rick asked her. “I mean, look at all these flavors. Bubble-gum surprise, blue goo, mystery chunks … They all sound pretty tempting to me.”
She reached over and took a mini spoon of chocolate chocolate from the counter boy, handed it to Alyssa, then turned to Rick. “Maybe they tempt you, but they scare me. Blue goo, for example. What, exactly, goes into ice cream that turns it blue? And I don’t even want to think about the goo part.”
“Then have vanilla. It’s safe. No surprises. Not particularly imaginative, but very good for the soul in its dependability.”
She took another sample and handed it to Alyssa. Actually, dependability
