Page 74 of That Fake Feeling

Hepoints across the parking lot to where aSensationalSprinklesice-cream truck is setting up.Aman and a woman in striped aprons, matching the bright pink-and-blue vehicle, are laying out help-yourself topping stations on either side of it.

“Didyou do that too?”Patriciashrieks as she punchesConnor’supper arm in excitement.

“Yup.Allon me.”Herubs the spot where her fist landed. “Butif it’s giving me bruises,I’mnot sure it was such a good idea.”

Shelooks from him to me, her eyes full and on the verge of spilling over. “ThisisTheLearningVillage’sbest day since we opened.”

“CanIgo tell the kids they can take a break from painting and get some ice cream?”Connorasks her, clearly eager to be the bearer of such exciting news.

“Hell, yes.”Shewipes her eyes.

Heputs his arm around her and hugs her to his side. “I’llgive you a one-minute head start.Gofill a tub now before you have to fight off a bunch of frantic little hands.”

“Andanother hell, yes,”Patriciasays as she trots across the parking lot. “Andanother thank you!” she calls over her shoulder.

Connor’seyes meet mine. “Seemsto be going well.”

“Itdoes,”Isay quietly as he heads back to the music room to make the great ice-cream announcement.

Myheart swells.Icould not be prouder to be associated with him and the joy he’s spreading right now.

* * *

Iput the last spoonful of toppings on my tub containing one scoop of vanilla and one scoop of caramel and wander toward a bench by the basketball court.

Assoon asConnordelivered the glad ice-creamy tidings, a swarm of overall-clad kids poured out the door and ran at full tilt toward the truck.Theyalmost beatPatricia.

ConnorandIhung back and let them do their thing before heading over to collect our ice cream, and make our ways down separate sides of the toppings station.Hestopped to chat withJeremyandSeeta, soIfinished before him.

Iturn and sit on the bench to find he’s almost caught up and has been walking along behind me.NowIwishI’dworn something more ass-flattering than these old loose cargo pants.

“CanIjoin you?” he asks.

“Notif you chose coffee ice cream, you can’t.Coffeeis great.Icecream is great.Butcoffee ice cream is an abomination, andIcouldn’t tolerate anyone who’d choose it.”

“Nope.You’resafe.”Hesits down beside me. “Onescoop vanilla.Onecaramel.”

Outof theLordknows how many flavors they have, that’s way too much of a coincidence. “Seriously?Didyou get that because you heard me ask for it?”

“That’swhat you got too?Nope.Ididn’t hear what you ordered.Iwas too busy listening toJeremyandSeetatell me about their plans for the playroom after we’ve finished building it for them.”

Heleans toward me, stretching to peer into my tub. “Whattoppings did you get?”

Histhigh rests briefly against mine, sending a shiver down to my toes and up to my center.

Icover the bowl with my hand and pull it away. “Nottelling.”

“Why?Areyou ashamed of your treats?Doyou suffer sprinkle shame?Youcan get help for that, you know.”Herests his elbows on his knees and scoops a lump of vanilla into his mouth.

“Notashamed.Justdon’t want to hear you give me a hard time for them.”

Myfingers itch to rest on the back of his shoulder, slide along to the base of his neck, and claw their way up through his hair.

“WhywouldIgive you a hard time for them?”

Idrag my eyes from his sexy back to the other sweet treat in my hand. “Ihardly ever have ice cream with toppings.ButwheneverIdo,I’mmocked.”

Herests his chin on his shoulder and looks at me, eyes twinkling, and wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Willyou tell me yours ifItell you mine?”