"Hey!"
"Quit talking about Brody or I'm going back to the shop."
"Fine. What are we doing tonight again?"
"Nothing," I answered.
"Sounds perfect."
It was so nice to have a friend who enjoyed doing nothing with me.
7
I cursed Sierra for the rest of the week. Silently and in the privacy of my own mind because her red hair might come from a bottle, but her temper was one hundred percent natural.
To my surprise, Brody continued to text me at random times throughout the week. Asking me questions about the town or observations about people we both knew.
It was the kind of stuff friends would talk about.
But I couldn't help the flutter in my stomach every time I saw a text message from him. I blamed Sierra for that because she'd put such a stupid idea in my head.
By Friday, I'd given myself at least three stern lectures. It was ridiculous to get so excited about a few messages from Brody. I wasn't in high school anymore.
Then there was the fact that up until a few days ago, I hadn't gotten along with him. I had to remember that.
It wasn't like Brody had been secretly in love with me for years.
I'd spent so much time thinking about Brody that week that I thought my imagination had conjured him out of thin air when I turned around Friday afternoon to see him standing at the counter.
It wasn't until Jacks started speaking, her happy voice ringing out, that I realized he was real and he was there.
"Hi, Ms. McClane."
I smiled at her and shook my head. "Call me Cam, remember? Ms. McClane is my mother."
She grinned back at me, revealing a dimple in her left cheek, and glanced up at her father as if asking for permission. He nodded, which made her smile even wider.
"Daddy and I are having an all-day date!" she announced.
Oh, shit. Dammit all to hell.
That was adorable. And my resolve to keep my feelings toward Brody platonic took a massive hit.
"I love date day. Dad always has the best ideas! A couple of weeks ago, he took me on a food crawl. And before that, we went to the county fair."
I was officially toast. I loved that he made an effort to not only spend time with her but to do things that she enjoyed. However, I had one question.
"Okay, what's a food crawl?"
"We went to all these different restaurants and tried one or two things. I was so full that I thought I was going to get sick." The last was said with such glee that I couldn't contain my urge to laugh.
Brody's smile was huge when I looked at him. "Where in the heck did you come up with that idea?"
"Ever heard of a pub crawl?" he asked. "It was my inspiration. It was just as much fun but without the hangover."
That made me laugh even harder. "I don't know about that. Both will cause you to be sick to your stomach."
Jacks giggled.
I had to change the subject because this was too much cuteness for words.
"I'm just guessing, but I bet you're here to try some ice cream."
Jacks' hazel eyes lit up and she immediately bounded over to the freezer case that held all the ice cream flavors I offered. Her nose was nearly touching the glass as she gazed at each and every label.
"Try not to leave drool marks on Cam's glass, Jacks," Brody teased his daughter.
Her eyes met mine and the expression on her face revealed her exasperation with her father. I bit back a smile because I didn't want to encourage her to rebel too early.
I'd wait until she was twelve or so before I helped her make Brody's life a living hell.
"You can try any flavor you want," I offered. "Even if it's all of them."
Her eyes widened and she stared hard at the case. "I don't know if I can decide."
"Trust me?" I asked.
She nodded.
I grabbed two sample spoons and dipped them into one of my seasonal flavors. It was vanilla with a chocolate hazelnut swirl and I was seriously considering making it a permanent addition to the menu because I sold out of it nearly every day during the summer.
I handed one to Jacks and one to Brody. Their identical expressions of delight as they tasted the ice cream were downright comical.
"That was soooo good," Jacks stated. "Is it your favorite?"
I leaned forward over the case. "Not really. I mean, I like it but it's not something I could eat all the time."
"So which one is?"
"Promise you won't laugh?" I asked.
She nodded, her face solemn.
"The double chocolate. I usually eat a scoop as soon as I take it out of the ice cream maker."
"Can I try some?" she asked.
"Of course." I looked at Brody. "You want to try it too?"
His eyes gleamed when he said, "Definitely."
I ignored the thrill that ran through me at his husky voice.
Bad Cameron.
I wrestled my unruly emotions into submission and grabbed two more sample spoons.
They tasted the double chocolate, which was chocolate ice cream with chunks of milk chocolate folded in after it was made.
Jacks bounced on her toes as it melted in her mouth. "That one is yummy too."
"I can see why it's your favorite," Brody muttered.
"Okay, what do you want to try next?" I asked Jacks, ignoring the way my skin heated when Brody looked at me with those intense green eyes.
This went on for several minutes until they'd both tried every single flavor.
"Now, here's the hard part," I said. "Do you want a single, double, or triple scoop? Or do you want to try one of my sundaes?"
"Shit," Brody grumbled. "This isn't going to end well."
I nearly choked on a laugh as Jacks turned toward him and said, "Dad, language."
"Sorry, baby," he replied.
And just like that, my heart melted again. It wasn't safe to have him here with his daughter. It was so sweet it would make the ice cream taste bitter.
Jacks looked at me and surprised me with her answer. "I want two scoops in a cup, please. The vanilla chocolate hazelnut swirl and the double chocolate. I like them all but those two are my favorites."
I crossed my arms on top of the ice cream coolers. "Are you sure? My brownie fudge sundaes are really good."
"I'll try one next time," she replied.
How was it possible that Brody Murphy was raising such a sweet girl? As I recalled, he'd been a complete hellion by the time I met him. Then again that was when he was eleven, so most of his sweetness had probably worn off by then.
"And you?" I asked Brody.
"I'm eating some of hers."
"Daaaaaad."
He looked down at her. "What? You won't finish it."
"Yeah, but you need to get your own. That's what you always tell me when I try to eat your food."
I chuckled at that. Brody did have a weird quirk about people eating off his plate. As in, he hated it. It was also good to know that he hadn't changed that much.
"He was always like that," I told Jacks. "One time, my brother, J.J., decided he really wanted the pasta your dad ordered when we all went out to this super nice Italian restaurant, so—"