Page 8

hazel

. . .

National Ice Cream Day might just be my new favorite holiday, even if my arms feel like they’re about to fall off from scooping what seems like the thousandth cone of the day.

“Two scoops of salted caramel in a waffle cone, please!” A freckle-faced little boy bounces on his toes at our ice cream truck window, his mother smiling apologetically behind him.

“Coming right up, sir,” I say with a wink, and he giggles at being called “sir.”

Our pink truck—which Finn has dubbed the “Sweet Ride” despite my eye-rolling—gleams under the July sun. The festival crowds have been steady since we opened at ten this morning, and it’s nearly three now with no signs of slowing down.

“Haze, we’re running low on chocolate chip cookie dough,” Helen calls from behind me, her hair pulled into a messy bun that somehow still looks Instagram-worthy.

My twin sister drove home from Boston yesterday, claiming she couldn’t miss National Ice Cream Day, but I suspect she’s more interested in gathering intel on whatever is happening between Finn and me.

“There’s more in the cooler under the counter,” I answer, passing the completed cone to the little boy and accepting his mother’s payment.

As I turn to help the next customer, Finn slides past me in the narrow truck space, his hand briefly brushing against my lower back. The touch is innocent enough that Helen wouldn’t notice, but the heat that rushes to my cheeks definitely isn’t.

“I’ve got this one,” he says, his green eyes meeting mine with a sparkle that makes my stomach flip. Five hours of stolen kisses and secret touches, and I still can’t believe this is happening.

Sarah, my assistant manager, glances between us with a knowing smirk. “I’ll restock the napkins,” she announces loudly, disappearing to the back of the truck.

The moment she’s gone, Finn leans closer, pretending to reach for the scoop. “You look beautiful today,” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear.

“We’re supposed to be professional,” I murmur back, though I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips.

“I am being professional,” he protests. “Professionally smitten.”

I snort and nudge him with my elbow. “That was terrible.”

“You loved it,” he grins, and dammit, he’s right.

“Less flirting, more scooping!” Helen calls out, making me jump. When I whip around, she’s focused on preparing a sundae, not even looking our way. My sister has always had a sixth sense for these things.

The afternoon continues in a blur of ice cream flavors, sticky hands, and the constant dance of four people working in close quarters.

Every now and then, Finn’s fingers will graze mine as we pass cones back and forth, or I’ll catch him watching me with that soft expression that makes my heart race.

During a rare lull, I duck into the back of the truck to grab more cups from storage. Seconds later, the curtain rustles, and Finn appears, closing the distance between us in two steps.

“Hi,” he says softly.

“We can’t—” I start to protest, but he’s already pressing his lips to mine, and honestly, who am I kidding? My hands find his shoulders as I kiss him back, tasting the sweetness of vanilla on his lips.

“I’ve been waiting to do that all day,” he murmurs against my mouth.

“Five minutes!” Sarah’s voice calls from the front. “The crowds are growing!”

We spring apart like guilty teenagers, and I quickly smooth my hair. “Let’s move,” I say, trying to compose myself.

Finn laughs, reaching out to wipe a smudge of chocolate from the corner of my mouth with his thumb. “You know, we’re going to have to tell everyone eventually.”

“I know,” I sigh. “But can we just have this to ourselves for a little longer? Once Helen knows, the whole town will know by sunset.”

“Whatever you want, Haze.” His smile is so tender it makes my chest ache. “But for the record? I can’t wait to tell everyone you’re mine.”

As I step back into the sunshine to greet customers, I can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, coming home to Starlight Bay was the best decision I’ve ever made.

“What were you two doing back there?” Helen chuckles as she wags a scooper at me.

Henry’s eyes narrow slightly, and I recognize that look—the same one he’d give me when he caught me sneaking cookies before dinner as a kid. Great. Is it that obvious?

Before I can say something snarky, Sarah nudges me. “Boss, we’re out of waffle cones.”

“I’ll grab more from the shop,” I say, grateful for the escape. “Back in ten.”

The festival is in full swing as I weave through the crowd toward Sinfully Sweet, just a block away. The July heat makes the pavement shimmer, and I can feel sweat beading at my temples. I’m halfway there when I hear footsteps behind me.

“Need a hand?” Finn catches up, falling into step beside me.

I glance around before answering. “You shouldn’t have followed me. Helen’s going to notice.”

“I told her I needed to check on the freezer compressor. Very technical, very boring.” His fingers brush against mine. “Besides, I thought you might need help carrying boxes.”

“Is that the only reason?” I raise an eyebrow.

His smile is slow and deliberate. “Maybe I wanted two minutes alone with my girlfriend.”

The word sends a flutter through me. “Girlfriend? Is that what I am?”

“I hope so.” There’s a vulnerability in his voice now. “Unless you’ve changed your mind in the last seven days?”

We reach the shop, and I unlock the door, the bell jingling cheerfully. Once inside, I turn to face him.

“I haven’t changed my mind,” I say softly. “It’s just... fast. Seven days ago, we were just friends.”

“Twenty years ago, we were just friends,” Finn corrects, following me to the storage room. “Seven days ago, we finally stopped pretending that’s all we wanted to be.”

I grab a box of waffle cones, using the task as an excuse to hide my smile. “When did you get so wise?”

“Somewhere between helping you set up your POS system and watching you lick ice cream off your wrist earlier today.” He takes the box from me, setting it aside before pulling me closer. “Very distracting, by the way.”

“We should get back,” I murmur, even as my hands find their way to his shoulders.

“Probably,” he agrees, but neither of us moves.

His kiss is gentle at first, then deeper as my back presses against the shelving. His hands frame my face with such tenderness that I feel something inside me melting faster than ice cream in July.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, breaking the spell. It’s a text from Helen:

*Where are those cones? Line forming. Also, where’s Finn?*

I show him the screen. “Busted.”

He laughs, grabbing the box. “Worth it.”

As we hurry back to the festival, cones in hand, I find myself wondering how long we can really keep this secret in a town where everyone knows everyone’s business before they know it themselves.

Part of me wants to keep Finn all to myself, this precious new thing protected from outside opinions.

But another part—a growing part—wants to shout from the rooftops that Finn Morgan finally kissed me, and I finally let him.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Finn says as we approach the pink truck.

“Just wondering how long until Helen figures it out.”

He glances at the truck where my sister is efficiently serving customers, her blonde head bobbing as she chats with the crowd.

“My bet? End of the day.” He winks. “Your sister doesn’t miss much.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I sigh, but I’m smiling as we rejoin the chaos of National Ice Cream Day, our secret sweet and slowly melting between us.