Melting - Sean Ashcroft Page 0,74

broke away from Hayden for long. I never wanted to.

Hayden handed me a knife while an off-key chorus of Happy Birthday started up around me, Mr. Lewis singing the loudest and starting the cheers afterward.

He wasn’t mad at all that I was dating Hayden. I should never have been worried.

“How does thirty feel?” Hayden murmured in my ear as I cut into the cake, both hands casually resting on my hips.

I still loved it when he got a little possessive.

“Usually feels pretty great,” I teased. “You’ll have to tell me tonight.”

“Felt pretty good this morning,” Hayden whispered, and I could feel him smiling against the shell of my ear. “Birthday boy gets whatever he wants.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” I said, offering the first slice of cake to Mr. Lewis.

“Promises, promises,” Hayden responded, slipping away to help with passing out cake.

34

Hayden

“Are you asking me to taste your balls?” Seth asked as I slid a plate of ice cream truffles across the counter, eyes lighting up.

“I’m asking for your opinion on these ice cream truffles,” I said, voice raised a little above his so the nearest customers would know I wasn’t sexually harassing Seth—he was sexually harassing me.

As always. I would’ve been worried if he stopped, at this point.

“I’m not objecting,” Seth said, pulling the plate toward himself and bending down so he could look at the perfect little chocolate-coated truffles I’d generously offered him.

Wes was handling a delivery right now, or I wouldn’t have been having this conversation.

Seth spent most of his workdays in here—so much so that he had his own table and a coffee tab I wasn’t ever expecting payment for. He was one of my chief tasters and one of my best marketers, for free. I figured a few cups of coffee a day was a fair exchange.

“I’m just saying,” Seth went on. “These are balls and you want me to taste them. It’s okay. You can ask.”

I wasn’t getting out of this. I knew what he wanted, and the thing with Seth was that he got what he wanted.

Mark had spoiled him, but so did everyone else.

And he was still one of the biggest sweethearts I knew, which probably said something about nature and nurture. Something I wasn’t smart or qualified enough to understand, but something.

“Seth,” I said, clearing my throat. If I whispered this, I’d never hear the end of it, so I’d have to say it in a perfectly normal voice. “I’m asking you to taste my balls.”

The look of triumph on his face was worth the sideways look one of the tourists sitting at the counter a few seats down gave me.

I’d probably never see them again.

Or they’d bring all their friends to see the weird pervert who ran the ice cream parlor in Otter Bay. One or the other.

“Gladly,” Seth said, grinning. “But these are too big for my mouth.”

“My balls are too big for your mouth?” I asked, turning the tables on him without a single second of remorse.

“You’re learning,” Seth said, eyes glittering with joy.

“You’re meant to eat them in a couple of bites,” I went on.

“You want me to bite your balls?”

Clearly, we weren’t done with the ball joke.

That was fine, I was learning.

“More of a nibble,” I said. “Those ones you’re eyeing up are duck egg vanilla with a chipotle jam in the center, dipped in white chocolate.”

“So these are your hot balls?” Seth asked, maintaining eye contact with me as he bit through the chocolate coating.

The sound of the door opening rescued me, Wes grinning at me from the doorway, shoving his keys in his pocket.

I loved him so much.

Especially right now, when he was here to help me with Seth-wrangling.

He pulled up a stool next to Seth, sitting almost shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “What’s this?” he asked, nodding to the plate.

“Hayden asked me to taste his balls,” Seth said casually, licking his fingers.

“Did he?” Wes asked airily.

My stomach sank. He was in the same mood Seth was.

The mood to torture me.

“You should taste them too,” Seth said. “He’d like that.”

“I’m sure he would.” Wes looked up at me, broad grin spread over his face, and I knew I was helpless. Anything to make him happy.

Even blushing down to my elbows in front of all these people.

“These are dark chocolate-coated salted caramel swirl,” I said, pointing to sea salt-topped truffles that I thought looked pretty damned good, if I said so myself.

Seth chuckled. “So those are your salty balls? Come on, Hayden, you’re making this too easy.”

“Well,”