“No thanks. How’s the wasabi?” He grimaced.
“Se buon! My nose is on fire, but it is so tasty.”
He chuckled. “Your eyes are watering.”
“They’re tears of joy. Have a lick!”
“No.”
Again, she held the cone to him, goading, “Just do it. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“You’re crazy,” he said, followed by a swipe to his vanilla.
Her wicked laugh teased him. “C’mon!”
“Stop,” he laughed.
The first drop of rain landed on his forehead. “We should find shelter,” he said.
“You and your vanilla can go if you want. I’m good,” she replied shrugging, clearly lost in her Parisian moment.
He was happy to see that her sister’s texts earlier in the day didn’t get in the way of having a good time.
“I have looked forward to this gelato for years. A tornado can touch down, and I still wouldn’t leave. Best gelato on the planet,” she moaned.
She was the tornado, a force of nature, whipping up every suppressed emotion within him and challenging him to do things he never would since The Breakup. He didn’t abandon her in fear of rain, but remained seated beside her, glancing out at the boat with its red sail billowing in the wind. “I’ll try the lavender.”
“Ha! I knew you would succumb to me. See, nothing has changed,” she grinned before taking a final long lick, then holding it out to him.
He hesitantly dipped his tongue into the cream.
“Seriously?” she laughed.
Heavier rain fell, and he gave the cone a good swipe. “Se buon,” he repeated, meaning it.
Unbothered by the rain, they alternated licks from the other’s cone as fast as they could before it washed away in the downpour. The wasabi was crazy intense, but he was glad he tried it because the smile that spread across her beautiful face seared his heart.
“I love sharing this with you,” she said.
“Ice cream in the rain?”
“All of it! The whole day. I’m so glad we took the time to get to know each other as ... friends ... and fellow creatives.”
Friends. “Only different, but sort of like old times.”
She smiled, eyes batting. “Those were ... yeah, the best times of my life.”
They held each other’s gaze, and damn if his heart didn’t do some funky beating in unspoken words and emotions. Her breath hitched, and she licked her upper lip. Yeah, he felt it, too.Electric. Inching forward, not for her cone, his sights set on her delectable mouth.
The sky opened in a torrent.
Flustered, but not by the pelting rain, he stood. Looking up, he held out his arms in submission. All he could do was give in to the moment and her breathtaking spirit. He tossed his vanishing vanilla in the trash.
Holding out his hand to her, he said, “May I have this dance, Mademoiselle?”
She tossed her cone, then slipped her hand into his.
“Absolument.” They slow danced, fast danced, pantomimed, and eventually chased each other around the pool, laughing and splashing in the rain until it started to lightning.
