The Ice Cream Shop Boy #2 (Erotic Romance) by Mimi Strong

Author:Mimi Strong [Strong, Mimi]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: ORLY Press
Published: 2012-11-08T04:00:00+00:00

I lurked in my bedroom for nearly half an hour, rearranging furniture. It was actually nice to have someone else recount the humiliating tale of me being left at the altar. This way I didn't have to re-live it, that lump strangling my throat every time I brought it back to mind. I've heard that talking about painful events is supposed to ease the pain, but talking about that day seemed to be searing it into my memory, making the whole thing more dramatic every time.

Some days, I could handle the story, like when I told Shawn. We'd been walking near the beach, and he was just such a laid-back, relaxed person. He'd called me “grounded,” but he was the rock-solid one, and I'd felt like I could say anything around him.

Zach was different. He had been kind and considerate thus far, but there was a hint of judgment. Perhaps I was still sore about him throwing away my junk food stash.

I came out of the bedroom at last, dressed up like someone who'd never get left at the altar. I wore a scarlet-red dress, from one of our label's new collections, and a pair of sandals that were casual, but with enough heel to make my calves curvy.

I strode out to the living room and waited for Zach to notice me. The two of them were talking about ice cream flavors, and he stopped mid-sentence to eye-grope me, much to my delight.

“Not bad,” Renee said. “You clean up okay, Laura.”

Zach said, jokingly, “Thanks for stopping by, Renee, I guess you'll be on your way!”

I laughed and said I was hungry, and we were going out for a late dinner since nothing in my kitchen passed muster with the CEO of Butter Spoons. I insisted Renee join us, assuring her she wasn't a third wheel. Having her with us felt right, like we were becoming a little group of friends.

We had a nice evening at a local place, enjoying a thin-crust pizza fired in a wood oven, as well as a pitcher of sangria. Lars would never have imbibed in a fruity drink, calling it “girlie,” but Zach was happy to share whatever we wanted.

“Zach is a good catch,” Renee said, right in front of him.

He seemed to blush, and excused himself to the washroom.

The second he was gone, Renee said, “OH-MY-STARS are you two zooming? Does he make you sneeze?” (Sneeze was Renee's nanny-filter euphemism for orgasm, though it almost sounded dirtier than the real word.)

I smiled, my cheeks flushing from the sangria and the memory of that afternoon in my bedroom. “Maybe.”

“Did you both sneeze at the same time?”

“Close enough. Honestly, I'm happy to sneeze at all.”

“I know. You only had about five with Lars, right? How many are you at now?”

I tried to count, but I'd lost track. There'd been a few with Shawn, and today's had seemed like it might have been two. Not having a number was a good thing. I crossed my arms and squeezed myself in a happy hug as Renee and I grinned at each other.

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