Page 126 of Bonfire and Bliss Bookstore

Because I know it’s mine. And I know now what I have to do.

Chapter 38

Penny

apennyforyourbooks: Who needs a real boyfriend when you’ve got ice cream and a book boyfriend?

“Oh, you should totally use the warm filter on this one,” Billie says after snapping a picture of me holding an ice cream cone that is almost the size of my face and my latest read, a vacation romance about the dreamiest air force pilot and the woman who almost got away.

I’m still sad—and also maybe a little tipsy from the day-drinking—after everything that went down with Monty earlier. Stupid fake boyfriends who do nothing but break hearts.

I catch the apple pie ice cream with my tongue before it drips onto my fingers and hum. “This is so good.”

Billie giggles and shakes her head before taking a big bite of her own ice cream sundae. We’re seated out on the lawn in front of the Ice Cream Barn—a large red structure with black doors that abuts the beautiful mountains—with Tally, Quinn, and Daisy.

Behind the barn, Eli has an outdoor ice-skating rink in the winter and an indoor one for the rest of the year. It’s quite the setup and means the shop stays busy all year.

Tonight, with the sky a beautiful shade of pumpkin and cranberry and the unseasonably warm evening, it’s packed. Families are sprawled out on blankets across the lawn, most of them having brought picnics for dinner before indulging in the ice cream that is the equivalent of an orgasm. Not a Monty orgasm, because his are unfairly fantastic. But a regular one, sure.

I snort at the thought and my sister gives me a look that says she thinks I might be losing it. Though I’m not sure she’s one to judge, as I watch her feed a cone to her pet cow. I’m just glad no one is giving me sad eyes anymore; telling everyone about my humiliating fake relationship was awful enough.

Rayna was the one who poured me my first drink. Then Babs told me I was a fool if I thought anything Monty felt for me was fake. Everyone seemed to agree with her, so I told them I’d leave if anyone uttered another word about Jake Montgomery.

The rest of the afternoon was surprisingly wonderful. We drank Rosie’s specialty fall-themed cocktails and ate Tally’s delicious treats. We spoke about reading and everyone bought books. Even though they were unsigned, I sold out. God, I love those women.

“You’re getting ice cream in her hair,” I point out to my sister.

Tally grabs a napkin and tries cleaning Daisy up. She doesn’t get far, however. The cow is too focused on the ice cream and just keeps shaking her snout, aiming for another lick instead.

“Do you think Eli’s at the rink?” Quinn asks, his gaze longingly shifting over his shoulder. Billie ruffles his hair and he glares at her. “Mom, remember the flow.”

Under her breath she says to me, “But if Tally touches his hair he won’t brush it for a week.”

I giggle right as Daisy pushes my sister over on the blanket as she goes to devour the rest of the cone.

“Tally!” Quinn cries before throwing his ice cream at his mother in a bid to save his favorite girl.

The entire scene is ridiculous: Tally on her back, the giant baby Highland cow in her lap practically smothering her, and Quinn tugging on Daisy’s collar, trying, with no luck, to get her off my sister.

Billie and I are a puddle of giggles as Quinn huffs out that he needs help. It isn’t until Daisy realizes that Quinn’s cone has hit the ground that she jumps up and scrambles for that one instead, practically trampling my sister in the process.

“Mom, my ice cream!” Quinn yells.

“How is this my fault?!”

“I’ll get you a new one.” Eli’s voice cuts through the mayhem as he seemingly appears out of nowhere.

From beside me, Billie barely looks at him. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“Please, Mom!” Quinn whines.

Eli stands above us, his blond hair flowing in the breeze. I swear, from this angle, he looks like one of those models in those bodice-ripping novels. Smoldering blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a cocky smirk. All he needs is a ripped-open white shirt tucked and a woman in his arms to ravish.

I glance at Billie. She’d do.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re writing another story in your head?” Tally whispers as she settles in beside me, wiping herself off with a wet napkin.

“Look at them,” I say as Eli holds out a hand to Billie, trying to convince her to allow him to get another cone for Quinn. From the ground, Billie just stares at his hand like she’s never seen one before.