I’m hyperaware of how we must look. Grant’s hand on my lower back. Kai standing close enough that our arms brush. Donovan, on my other side, is casually possessive.
We look like we’re together.
All of us.
My face heats despite the cold we just left.
“What can I get you?” Emma asks, still staring.
“Mint chocolate chip,” I say. “Two scoops. In a cup.”
“Same,” Kai adds. “But in a cone.”
Grant orders something with caramel. Donovan gets black coffee instead of ice cream because he’s apparently sane.
We wait while Emma scoops, and I notice other people in the shop watching us. An older couple near the window. A group of teenagers in the corner. The man behind us in line. They’re not hostile. Just curious. Like they’re trying to figure out the dynamic.
Let them wonder.
Grant pays before I can reach for my wallet, and we head back outside with our ice cream.
“We should walk around,” Kai suggests. “I need to hit the hardware store anyway.”
So we walk down Main Street with its brick sidewalks and old-fashioned storefronts. Past the bookstore and the coffee shop and the place that sells handmade quilts.
The cold is intense, making my ice cream almost redundant. But it tastes exactly how I remembered—sweet and minty with chunks of real chocolate.
“Good?” Grant asks.
“Perfect.” I take another bite. “Thank you for this.”
“It’s ice cream. Not exactly a hardship.”
But it feels like more than ice cream. It feels like he listened when I mentioned a random craving. Like he cared enough to make it happen.
We stop at the hardware store where Kai buys things I don’t understand. Then, the general store where Donovan picks up supplies that the estate kitchen apparently needs.
People keep looking at us. Some smile and nod at Grant—clearly he’s known here. Others just stare, trying to piece together why four people are walking around together like we’re on a double date.
Except it’s not a double date. It’s just us.
And it feels good.
Really good. Better than it probably should.
By the time we finish shopping, the sun is starting to set. The temperature drops even further, and I’m shivering despite my coat.
“Let’s head back,” Grant says. “Before we freeze to death.”
The drive back is quieter. Grant drives again, and I sit in the passenger seat with the leftover ice cream containers in my lap. Kai and Donovan are in the back, their voices low as they discuss something I’m not paying attention to.
I’m watching the landscape change as we climb back up the mountain. The snow gets deeper. The trees get denser. The world narrows down to just the road ahead and the warm interior of the car.
“Want some?” I ask Grant, holding up a spoonful of my mint chocolate chip.
He glances over, amused. “While I’m driving?”
“I’ll feed you.”
