Double Scoop by Clare London

Author:Clare London
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romantic comedy, london, gay romance, mm romance, ice cream, gay erotic romance
Publisher: Clare London

As Patrick let them into the shop, the lock clicked loudly in the quiet air of the street. Most of the restaurants had closed by now, although taxis still passed by, and occasional travellers weaved their way towards the night bus stops. The blinds on the front window blocked the view from both inside and outside, and movements on the street were nothing more than grey silhouettes to Patrick. Phiz was currently working on an etching for the glass, a brand new logo for the business. As always, Patrick felt a rush of pleasure at entering his own shop: he couldn’t imagine the buzz ever growing old.

There was enough light filtered through the blinds for him to see his way around, so he didn’t turn on the main lights. Neither did Lee. They moved quietly and slowly around the room in the semi-darkness, working unconsciously in tandem, neither of them needing further instructions. Most of the new tables and chairs were stacked against the far wall, awaiting the grand re-opening. Some days, Patrick thought they’d never be ready: then something would come together successfully and ahead of schedule, sending a spike of impatient anticipation through him.

They both took off their coats and draped them over the back of a chair. Then Patrick checked all the electrics were off, while Lee cleared away any cups and glasses left in the tables. Considering they’d both drunk all that beer, they managed to avoid any new accidents. With A Kick wasn’t open to the public as a cafe yet, but customers had been gradually drifting back, and not only for the limited range of takeaway ices. The free London newspapers had covered the explosion, and some people were just nosey. But others were genuinely interested in finding out about the business. Lee and Phiz had installed a new coffee machine and were offering drinks and snacks to anyone who dropped in. There had been local reporters at the gig that night, too, so presumably that would give them more advertising.

Lee bumped against a table and sniggered.

Patrick turned sharply. “You okay?”

“Fine. Clumsle. Clumsy.” Lee burped.

Patrick laughed, then tripped over a chair leg himself.

“You’ve drunk too much as well.”

“Have not!” Patrick retorted.

“Have.”

They both laughed.

“It was great though, wasn’t it? The show.” Lee wriggled carefully around the table to reach Patrick. “Who knew Rob and Mick could source all those rugby songs with alternative—and clean—lyrics? I haven’t had such a good singalong for ages.”

“The dance group was amazing, too. And Riley... damn, that man can sing.”

“You got quite tearful at that stage.”

“Did not!”

“Did so.”

They laughed again. Patrick loved the way the skin crinkled across the bridge of Lee’s nose when he laughed. The air was cool in the shop, and quiet settled around them like a warm blanket. Patrick could hear Lee’s breathing, soft and heady.

“Lee...”

“Hm?” Lee hiccupped again and lurched to one side. Patrick moved on instinct to catch him before he fell. He slid an arm around Lee’s waist and pulled him close.

“Are you okay?”

“I said I was fine,” Lee said.

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