really shouldn’t be taking the bus alone.”
“Why? Because working yourself up over it screams first world problems.”
He bypasses the question as he drifts effortlessly across lanes. “Do you take it at night when you don’t have a ride?”
“Sometimes. Other times, Josie picks me up or Jerry takes me home.”
“Jerry?” Jameson repeats stiffly.
“You met him yesterday,” I remind him. Am I actually detecting a hint of jealousy in those broad shoulders? “The store manager.”
Jameson relaxes with a laugh. “Oh, that guy.”
I don’t need to ask to know what he meant by that. Jerry’s nice but he’s not exactly a catch. The familiar melody of nursery rhymes builds outside the car windows. We stop at a traffic circle to yield to an ice cream truck, I sigh as it passes us.
“Do you want a popsicle?” Jameson asks and I realize I’ve been staring after it.
“Becca and I used to keep some money in one of those magnetic hide-a-key boxes under the mailbox. We’d run out as soon as we heard him coming.”
“What did you get?” he asks.
“A bomb pop.” I tell him. “I liked that it turned my tongue funny colors. What’d you get?”
“Me?” He shakes his head as if its a silly question, but I know better. A guy’s favorite frozen dessert says a lot about him. “Nothing.”
“No, when you were a kid,” I press.
“Nothing,” he repeats. “It’s hard for the ice cream man to visit a gated community.”
His answers tells me more than I expected. It doesn’t take a talk show host to know that lack of ice creams means he had a sad childhood.
“You should have told me,” I squeal, eager to remedy the situation now. “I would have jumped out and gotten you something.”
“It’s nine in the morning.”
“You can read a clock!” I say in mock surprise. “Gorgeous and he can tell time. Where’s the chapel?”
Jameson’s eyebrow arches up. “Gorgeous huh?”
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I admit.
“Maybe we can catch the ice cream man another time,” he suggests as he pulls up to Pawnography. “You can help me with my first time. Give me tips”
“You still have a first time available? I figured you’d handed all those out.”
Relaxed Jameson vanishes, replaced by his rigid, distant alter ego. “Don’t believe everything you read in the papers, Duchess.”
“I don’t,” I rush to assure him. “But boys who kiss like you have had some practice.”
The praise boosts his ego and puts the haughty smirk back on his face. “You could say that. I guess I saved one first to share with you though.”
“Careful West, that’s starting to sound like a date.”
“We both know dates are off limits,” he says, reminding me of the rule I had set. “Maybe I can sway you with a bomb pop.”
I climb out of the car and lean down to look at him through the open window. “You can certainly try.”
Inventory is a wreck. There’s supposed to be standard procedure at the shop but with a constantly changing schedule and an absentee boss most of that’s gone by the wayside. Items need cataloging and files need updating. I’m about to throw in the towel when a man in a white uniform approaches me by the register.
“Ms. Southerly?” he addresses me.
“Yes?” I’m not exactly fond of giving out my name these days, especially to strangers.
“These are for you.” He hands me two cold, colorful packages.
Bomb pops. My pulse takes off like a rocket as I accept the treats.
“What do I owe you?” I ask him bending to grab my purse from the lower shelf, trying to ignore that my fingers are going numb from the ice.
“It’s a gift from a friend,” he says dismissing my offer. He refuses even to take the tip I hold out to him. “That’s not necessary. He’s a very good friend.”
If only he knew the half of it.
I don’t bother to hide my enthusiasm as I unwrap the popsicle and clutch the wooden stick. Holding up my camera I take a selfie licking it then I send it to Jameson.
Jameson: You’re giving me ideas, Duchess.
Emma: That was unintentionally pornographic.
Jameson: Unintentional porn is my favorite kind.
My cheeks heat as I consider what he’s thinking as he stares at my photo. I know what would be on my mind if he sent me a picture of his tongue, and it wouldn’t be ice cream.
Time to change the subject.
Emma: Thank you for the bomb pop but what about you? Did you get one for yourself?
Jameson: No. I’m saving my first Bomb Pop to share with