Page 43 of Falling Into You

Jacob

Even though it was cold enough to see your breath, the Applegate Farms ice cream window was jammed. Families waited with jumpy kids, couples cuddled into each other, and packs of preteens raced around in the hay maze next to the parking lot, their screams and shouts rising up toward the full moon.

Jacob looked over at Rory next to him in line and wondered how they’d ended up here. This had been such a long, weird day. First the conversation with Fitz. Then the dire news from Dutton. Then the awful practice and his ignominious spiral at the soccer game. His fight with Rory in the school parking lot. His thirty-minute practice with the JV cheerleaders, which he’d pulled off by promising to bring coffee and muffins to their early morning game tomorrow, and now this. Him and Rory. In line for homemade ice cream. It was almost like a date.

Or it would have been, if her little brother wasn’t at herother side and the entire varsity cheer squad wasn’t waiting for them at the picnic tables. They’d picked the two next to the giant plywood pumpkin that acted as a measuring stick for little kids. His mom had photos of all of them standing next to it through the years, tracking their growth, both in height and number of siblings.

“Thanks for doing this,” he said to Rory for the tenth time.

“Owen’s ice cream is on you,” she told him. “And he always gets a Kitchen Sink Sundae.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Owen asked. “It’s five different flavors!”

“Solid reasoning,” Jacob said. “What if I get one, too, and we share? Then it’stendifferent flavors!”

“Really!? Score!” Owen cheered.

“What’s your favorite, Graham?” Jacob asked, nudging her with his elbow, his hands in the pockets of his varsity jacket. “Don’t say vanilla.”

“First of all, I don’t know why vanilla gets such a bad rap,” Rory replied. “It is the perfect base for any topping and theonlyice cream acceptable to put on top of pie.”

“Clearly you’ve never tried salted caramel crunch with apple pie,” Jacob shot back. “Game changer.”

Rory’s eyed widened. “Okay, that does sound pretty good. But don’t tell me you’d ever put chocolate or coffee or strawberry on top of pie.”

“Strawberry on top of apple pie sounds good!” Owen put in.

“But not pumpkin. Or sweet potato.” Jacob stuck his tongue out slightly.

“Who even eats sweet potato pie?” Rory demanded, getting animated. “Vegetables should not go anywhere near a pie.”

“What about quiche?” Jacob asked.

Rory pulled a dubious face. “Oh, you’re a big quiche eater, are ya?” He laughed. “Besides, quiche is not pie. Quiche is quiche.”

“Our dad makes thebestautumn veggie and Gruyère quiche.” Owen rubbed his hands together.

“You’ve got some sophisticated taste buds, kid,” Jacob said with a nod.

“We have one in the freezer,” Rory told him. “We can make it the next time you come over.”

Jacob blushed, pleased by the idea of being invited to Rory’s for a meal. “Cool,” he said. “But one question. What the heck is gree-air?”

Rory and Owen cracked up laughing. They finally made it to the front of the line, placed their orders, and then joined the rest of the squad at the tables. Rory had put out a 911 and everyone had rallied, getting to the farm even before Jacob had driven her and Owen over in his truck. Gwen and Layla joined, too, after driving the JV team home.

“Think you have enough ice cream there, Reilly?” Layla asked, taking a sip of her root beer float as she eyed his sundae. It wasn’t just five separate flavors—rocky road, MooseTracks, java chip, strawberry cheesecake, and pumpkin spice—it was also caramel, hot fudge, whipped cream, and chocolate chips. He’d opted out of the cherry.

“It’s been a long day, Layla. A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.” He sat down next to Owen and pushed his vat of ice cream toward the younger boy, giving him first dibs.

Rory slid into the seat next to Jacob, and her thigh pressed against his. He almost moved away out of habit, but when she didn’t, he didn’t, either. It felt like every cell in his body had gathered in that one spot. All that separated his skin from Rory’s were two layers of cotton.

She took a bite off her vanilla ice cream cone and gave him a sassy sort of look. He couldn’t help a laugh.

“Okay, Captain, what’s the deal?” Dahlia asked, crunching into her ice cream bar. “I was in the middle of an epicNBA 2Kgame when you texted, so this better be good.”

“Wait! Before we get to that, I need ten bucks from everyone,” Layla announced, tossing a baseball cap into the middle of the table.

“What? Why?” Carlos asked.