Page 22 of Sugar & Ink
Five.
And somehow, in those five days, I’d gone over there four times.
The first had been opening day.
The second was because I wanted more double chocolate fudge.
The third was because I was hungry and figured ice cream counted as lunch if you were committed enough.
The fourth...
The fourth was because I wanted to see Josie.
I locked the shop door behind me and shoved my hands into my pockets as I crossed Main Street. The sun beat down on the pavement, and the smell of fresh bread drifted over from the bakery two doors down. Small-town afternoons were quiet. A few cars rolled by. Somebody mowed their lawn a block over.
Across the street, Scoop & Swirl looked like it had always belonged there.
The mint-green paint was bright without being obnoxious. White tables sat near the windows, and the string lights she’d hung around the front made the place feel warmer at night than any business had a right to.
The OPEN sign glowed in the window.
I pulled open the door and the bell jingled.
“Welcome to Scoop & Swirl,” Josie called automatically. Then she looked up and her expression changed.
Not dramatically, but just enough for me to notice.
“Oh.”
I shut the door behind me. “Oh?”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I sound surprised.”
“You look disappointed.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve known you for all of five days and somehow you’re already annoying. Not that I’ve been counting the days.”
I grinned.
Josie stood behind the counter wearing jeans, sneakers, and a Scoop & Swirl T-shirt that stretched over curves I’d spent most of our conversations pretending she didn’t have, but I could tell she wasn’t comfortable with.
Not that she talked badly about herself. Not exactly, but she made little comments.
Tiny ones.
Like apologizing for taking up space before squeezing past me in her own damn shop.
The place was empty except for an older couple sitting by the window sharing a banana split.
“You want your usual?” she asked.
“I’ve been here four times.”
“Exactly.”
