wash of sexual desire she knew must be written there.
He drove to Huntington Beach and parked just a few blocks down from the restaurant where they’d eaten the night before. “I saw this place last night,” he said, indicating the small ice-cream parlor in front of them. “What do you say to a double cone and a walk on the beach?”
“ Fantastic.” Desiree jumped out of the car and pulled on her lightweight sweater. The air felt cool and pleasant, with the sound of nearby crashing waves and the pungent, salty smell of the sea.
Kyle pushed open the glass door and they stepped inside the dimly lit interior of the ice-cream parlor. A teenage girl in a white smock smiled at them as she vigorously rubbed the long glass counter with a rag. “You’re just in time,” she said. “I was shutting off the lights. I’m about to close up.”
Kyle stepped up to the glass display case and raised an eyebrow at Desiree inquiringly. “What’ll you have?”
She pondered for a moment over the vast array of different flavors, finally tapping the glass above a container of mint chocolate-chip. “I could go more exotic, but I think I’ll stick to my favorite flavor tonight.”
He glanced at the barrel of pale green ice cream below the glass. “Oh? Strawberry?”
She stared at him, lips parted in surprise. Strawberry? Was he kidding? “Are you color blind?” she asked.
She blurted the question without thinking, presuming he was just joking. The look in his eyes told her it was no laughing matter. His face reddened slightly and he averted his eyes, his mouth drawn into a tight line. “Why? What’d I say?”
“ Nothing, it’s just that...” She could have kicked herself. Why hadn’t she been more tactful? “This flavor. It’s mint chip. It’s green.”
“ Oh.” He shrugged off his embarrassment. “Yes, I’m color ¬blind.” He turned quickly to the girl behind the counter, who was staring at them curiously. “She’ll have two scoops. Mint chip. The green stuff.” He ordered fresh peach, paid for the cones, and guided her outside.
“ I’m sorry, Kyle,” she began. “I didn’t—”
“ Forget it.” His clipped tone warned her to drop the subject. But why? She was sorry she’d embarrassed him, but color blindness was no big deal. Why was he so touchy about it?
“ Come on.” He grabbed her by the hand, urging her to hurry.
His enthusiasm was contagious. She forgot everything in her sudden need to be closer to the lapping surf. They found a staircase at the end of the block and bounded down the concrete steps to the beach. They took off their shoes and left them on the bottom step. He rolled up his pant legs and she laughed, telling him he looked like a schoolboy in knickers. He threatened to capsize her ice-cream cone if she didn’t behave herself.
They joined hands again and raced across the wide stretch of cool, gritty sand, which glowed pale grey in the moonlight. He slowed a few yards from the water’s edge and they strolled along in silence. She enjoyed the feel of the cold, wet, dark sand beneath her feet and the sweet, frosty taste of the ice cream.
“ Isn’t this nice?” he grinned, squeezing her hand and swinging their arms.
“ Yes.” A laugh bubbled up inside her chest. “I haven’t done anything this spontaneous—or fun—in ages.”
“ Why not?”
“ I don’t know. I guess because I’ve worked nights for so long. My social life has been pretty nil.”
“ Work is important, but you have to make time for fun.” He glanced at her. “You don’t strike me as an overly serious type. And from what I’ve read, people who are—people who create clutter—”
“ Create clutter?” She punched him lightly on the arm. “How rude. Is it my fault if the maid decided to take the week off?”
“ People who create clutter,” he went on, his lips twitching with suppressed laughter, “are often marvelously relaxed. They don’t need everything to be in order around them.
He drove to Huntington Beach and parked just a few blocks down from the restaurant where they’d eaten the night before. “I saw this place last night,” he said, indicating the small ice-cream parlor in front of them. “What do you say to a double cone and a walk on the beach?”
“ Fantastic.” Desiree jumped out of the car and pulled on her lightweight sweater. The air felt cool and pleasant, with the sound of nearby crashing waves and the pungent, salty smell of the sea.
Kyle pushed open the glass door and they stepped inside the dimly lit interior of the ice-cream parlor. A teenage girl in a white smock smiled at them as she vigorously rubbed the long glass counter with a rag. “You’re just in time,” she said. “I was shutting off the lights. I’m about to close up.”
Kyle stepped up to the glass display case and raised an eyebrow at Desiree inquiringly. “What’ll you have?”
She pondered for a moment over the vast array of different flavors, finally tapping the glass above a container of mint chocolate-chip. “I could go more exotic, but I think I’ll stick to my favorite flavor tonight.”
He glanced at the barrel of pale green ice cream below the glass. “Oh? Strawberry?”
She stared at him, lips parted in surprise. Strawberry? Was he kidding? “Are you color blind?” she asked.
She blurted the question without thinking, presuming he was just joking. The look in his eyes told her it was no laughing matter. His face reddened slightly and he averted his eyes, his mouth drawn into a tight line. “Why? What’d I say?”
“ Nothing, it’s just that...” She could have kicked herself. Why hadn’t she been more tactful? “This flavor. It’s mint chip. It’s green.”
“ Oh.” He shrugged off his embarrassment. “Yes, I’m color ¬blind.” He turned quickly to the girl behind the counter, who was staring at them curiously. “She’ll have two scoops. Mint chip. The green stuff.” He ordered fresh peach, paid for the cones, and guided her outside.
“ I’m sorry, Kyle,” she began. “I didn’t—”
“ Forget it.” His clipped tone warned her to drop the subject. But why? She was sorry she’d embarrassed him, but color blindness was no big deal. Why was he so touchy about it?
“ Come on.” He grabbed her by the hand, urging her to hurry.
His enthusiasm was contagious. She forgot everything in her sudden need to be closer to the lapping surf. They found a staircase at the end of the block and bounded down the concrete steps to the beach. They took off their shoes and left them on the bottom step. He rolled up his pant legs and she laughed, telling him he looked like a schoolboy in knickers. He threatened to capsize her ice-cream cone if she didn’t behave herself.
They joined hands again and raced across the wide stretch of cool, gritty sand, which glowed pale grey in the moonlight. He slowed a few yards from the water’s edge and they strolled along in silence. She enjoyed the feel of the cold, wet, dark sand beneath her feet and the sweet, frosty taste of the ice cream.
“ Isn’t this nice?” he grinned, squeezing her hand and swinging their arms.
“ Yes.” A laugh bubbled up inside her chest. “I haven’t done anything this spontaneous—or fun—in ages.”
“ Why not?”
“ I don’t know. I guess because I’ve worked nights for so long. My social life has been pretty nil.”
“ Work is important, but you have to make time for fun.” He glanced at her. “You don’t strike me as an overly serious type. And from what I’ve read, people who are—people who create clutter—”
“ Create clutter?” She punched him lightly on the arm. “How rude. Is it my fault if the maid decided to take the week off?”
“ People who create clutter,” he went on, his lips twitching with suppressed laughter, “are often marvelously relaxed. They don’t need everything to be in order around them.
Similar Books
