So why couldn’t she stop thinking about her?
* * *
“Oh my God.”
Sabrina sat at the dining room table, laptop open, papers scattered all over, and read the screen. It never occurred to her to find the website for Get the Scoop because she had the address and a brief synopsis of the shop, its best-selling products, hours of operations, and such from the email sent to her from the home office. She had no reason to find the website.
Until now.
“Ooh, it fucking figures,” she muttered, as she sat with her head in both hands and stared at the sentence on the screen under the heading About us.
Get the Scoop is owned and operated by its third generation of the Purcell family, Adley Purcell. Call the number below or use the message box below to contact her with questions, party needs, or details on upcoming new and exciting flavors!
“Oh my God,” Sabrina said for about the thirtieth time since seeing the logo on Adley’s pink hoodie.
What the hell was she going to do?
That was the question. It stayed with her all day, reverberating through her head when she was driving. While she sat through a meeting and listened to Bryce Carter go on and on about how easy it was going to be for Sweet Heaven to take over the ice cream business in Northwood. While she went to the new site and walked around, listening to the foreman tell her what would happen there over the next two to three weeks.
And while she flashed back on the previous night. The images of a naked Adley beneath her, above her, beside her. Of her dark, hooded eyes, of the sexy sounds she made, of her sure touch and the way she could shift from letting Sabrina have control to taking it herself. Their night—and morning—had been sexier and more satisfying than any experience she’d had in a very long time. Years, even. She liked Adley. She liked her a lot. She liked her too much.
And then she heard her mother’s voice. “Business is business, Sabrina. Business is not personal.” She’d said that once a year or two ago when Sabrina had accused her of seeming a bit too happy to help create a Sweet Heaven monopoly in the smaller cities they’d infiltrated. Big cities were harder, but something the size of Northwood, New York? Sweet Heaven could easily run the smaller shops right out of business.
What the hell was she going to do now?
Without even thinking for longer than a second, she grabbed her phone and texted Teagan.
Not 911, but important. Call asap?
She didn’t want to interrupt Teagan’s entire day, but she was spiraling here and needed something to ground her.
Her phone rang less than a minute later.
“Hey, what’s up? You okay?” Teagan’s voice was smooth. Steady. Like a tether that suddenly had her and kept her from floating off into oblivion. Sabrina immediately felt herself relax.
“Yeah, I’m okay, but…” And then something weird happened. For the first time that she could remember since splitting up with Teagan and settling into a wonderful friendship, she lied to them. “I’m just being weird. It’s okay. Never mind.”
“Bri.” That one syllable had always been able to force her to spill whatever it was that was bothering her. But this time? She kept her jaw clamped tight, so tight it made her face ache. “You sound weird.”
She forced a light laugh. “I’m fine. Just…Mom stuff again. You know how it goes.” Another light chuckle. There you go. Make it seem silly and inconsequential. “Ignore me.”
“If you’re sure…?” Teagan didn’t sound convinced, but then Sabrina heard a voice in the background calling them. Kyra needing something.
“Totally sure. Go. Take care of your wife.”
“Okay, but I’m calling you later.”
That was fine. It would give her enough time to come up with a lie to tell Teagan that would satisfy them. Sabrina set the phone down and blew out a long, slow breath. “Business is business,” she whispered. “Business is not personal.”
She dropped her head into her hands. “Yeah, I bet Adley Purcell would disagree.”
Chapter Nine
Lakeside again?
Adley read the text over and over, not ready to hit Send. “Hmm,” she said aloud to nobody. “Can’t assume.” She made some changes.
Thinking of sitting by the lake at dusk.
That was better. Just a statement of fact. She squinted at it. Typed some more.
If you get bored, that’s where I’ll be. FYI…
Yeah, that was better. Even though she wanted to assume that, now that they’d slept together, things had maybe changed a bit, she also knew assumptions could be dangerous. But it was Thursday, and she hadn’t seen Sabrina since their Sunday night together and subsequent morning after, and she was having withdrawal. They’d texted some, but Sabrina had said her job had kicked into high gear, whatever that meant, and again, this not talking about their jobs was just silly. She was going to fix that tonight at the lake. She’d decided.
“You’re humming.” Mandy’s voice startled her enough to make her flinch, and she glanced up into her employee’s face.
“I’m sorry?”
“You. You’re humming. It’s new. It’s…weird.” Mandy grabbed a bunch of waffle cones Adley had made that morning, and as she was headed back to the front of the shop, she turned to regard Adley. “You’re okay?”
Adley smiled. “I’m great. Thanks for asking.”
With a nod, Mandy was gone.
The rest of the day went by smoothly, happily. At one point in the afternoon, she realized Mandy was right, she was humming. Some happy little made-up tune, nonlinear, nonsensical. Just humming and smiling.
Mandy was also right—it was weird. But in the best of ways.
When things started to die down a bit at the Scoop, around seven thirty, she grabbed the cooler, the picnic basket, and the bottle of wine she’d stashed in the refrigerator earlier. Mandy was going to lock up tonight, so she quickly changed into a T-shirt that didn’t smell like waffle cones and didn’t have ice cream stains on it, brushed out her hair, refreshed her mascara and lip gloss, and headed out to her car. Still humming.
The evening was a gorgeous, early-summer-in-upstate-New-York kind of night. Cool, but not cold. Still too early for tons of bugs—they’d show up in a few weeks, along with the super uncomfortable humidity that people not from the Northeast didn’t think the Northeast actually got. She smiled, thinking about how Sabrina, being from Atlanta, was probably very well-acquainted with humidity. They didn’t call it Hotlanta for nothing.
There were more people at the lakeshore than last time, but still not a ton. Adley found a spot in a far corner, where they were away from the other cars but could still see the lake. She backed into the spot, then hopped out and popped the trunk. In about fifteen minutes, she had two chairs set up with the cooler between them, acting as a makeshift table. On top, she spread out the mini-charcuterie board she’d made. Sharp Vermont cheddar, Manchego, and smoked Gouda sat alongside some prosciutto and spicy pepperoni. She had crackers and a red pepper tapenade, some stuffed grape leaves, and big green olives stuffed with Gorgonzola. Probably way too much, but she was going for impressive here.