Childhood Dream

by Theresa Paolo

  The sound of the front door opening and closing echoed through the house. Krissy shot Cami a look, and Cami nodded. “I won’t say anything,” she said just before Ella walked back into the kitchen.

  “What did I miss?” Ella asked, putting her phone down and grabbing a plate.

  “Krissy was just telling me about some new flavor ideas for this season at Scoops.”

  Krissy stared at Cami and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  Cami gave her a slight kick under the table and tilted her head toward Ella. Krissy’s eyebrows crinkled before she realized Ella was waiting for a reply. “Yes! I have a lot of new ideas and would love to have you do a bit of sampling.”

  “You can count me in!” Ella exclaimed. “Unless I’m in California.” Sadness turned her lips down.

  “I’ll make sure to have a few done before you go.”

  Ella gave an excited clap and bounced in her chair. “I can’t wait! I love being bicoastal, but I do miss things like this.” She motioned her hand out across the table. “Taco Tuesday and being with you girls.”

  “You know what we should do,” Cami said and took a sip of her margarita. “We should still have Taco Tuesday and video chat. You can make tacos in Cali and call us and we can catch up on everything.”

  Ella smiled. “I love that idea. Though I’ll miss Krissy’s margaritas.” She held the glass up.

  “I’ll show Lucas how to make them,” Krissy said with a wink.

  “Let’s do it then. Taco Tuesday’s even when I’m on the other side of the country.”

  They all raised their glasses and clinked them together in agreement.

  Chapter 6

  The blank canvas in front of him might as well have had a tongue to stick out at him and mock him appropriately. Tony sighed and dropped his hand to his thigh, the paintbrush leaving a speck of paint on his already paint ruined jeans. What was another spot?

  It’s not that he couldn’t make money with painting, he’d done very well for himself so far, but the problem was the massive block in his mind. Painting had always been a release, a freeing vibe that allowed him to zero in on the canvas in front of him, forget about the outside world and just let his mind and body take over the movement of the brush. Now there was no movement, and his mind, while clear of everything else, was nothing but a black hole, lacking any creative inspiration.

  It was the reason he was looking into painting portraits. He didn’t need any bursts of creativity to create something that was right in front of him, and the compensation was good. Still, portrait painting was not his passion and never would be. He didn’t like structure when it came to his work. Probably why he worshipped Jackson Pollock’s style so much. There was beauty in the chaos, and he loved to bring that to the surface.

  He held the brush up in defiance and leaned forward, willing a creative spark to jolt through his system and set him off into a fury of motivation, but nothing happened. This time he let the brush clatter to the floor, and he pushed up from the stool, knocking it over in the process.

  With a growl, he paced back and forth, shoving a hand over the bandana tied around his head and through the unruly curls pushed behind it. If the last three weeks had told him anything, it was that today would be another wasted effort.

  He didn’t want to sit around and let the frustration consume him, so he picked the discarded brush up from the floor, placing it in the cup of water, and grabbed his keys.

  The cool March air cut through his paint-stained jeans and went right to his bones. The long-sleeved black Henley wasn’t nearly warm enough, so he reached into the backseat and grabbed his jacket, pulling it on before heading out.

  Sometimes a drive would help clear his head and help him focus. Maybe he’d go down by the water and try to draw inspiration from nature. He turned toward town, but instead of stopping at the beach or the boardwalk, he kept going until he pulled into the parking lot of Scoops.

  Surprised to see Krissy’s car, he put his car in park and jumped out. He walked around the building to the back door that was slightly ajar and poked his head inside. She leaned her elbows on one of the freezers, a small tasting spoon in between her lips, eyes closed.

  “That good, huh?” he asked, and she jumped, almost knocking the bucket of ice cream down beside her.

  Her hand clutched her chest, and she took a deep breath. “My God, you scared me.”

  “Sorry. I saw your car in the parking lot and thought I’d stop by and see about getting started.”

  “It’s too damn cold today.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” The place didn’t have heat, a luxury at the time the building was built, so the owner opted out, and it had never been updated. Krissy currently had a small space heater blowing at her feet.

  “Coming up with some new flavors. I promised Ella I’d have a few new samples for her to try before she has to head to California.”

  “Couldn’t you do that at home?”

  She laughed, and the sound went right to his heart, warming him throughout. “It’s not the same.”

  He leaned against a counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “How so?”

  “When I was a kid, I would always help my Aunt Doris come up with new flavors, and we did it right here in the shop. There’s something about being here that gives me inspiration.”

  “I get that. You have to go where the inspiration is or what you create lacks your usual flair.”

  “Yes, exactly. You do get it.”

  He shrugged. “Creative minds have a way of understanding each other.”

  She met his gaze, and heat prickled up his spine. He swallowed down the urge to move closer to her. While he loved the feel of her soft curves beneath his hands, her luscious lips on his, he also enjoyed their conversations.

  She smiled, her eyes dropping to the floor. “How’s your art coming along?”

  “Actually, that’s really why I’m here. My inspiration has been lacking, so I thought maybe a drive would help clear my head.”

  “You’re blocked, huh?”

  “I don’t like to think of it as blocked, more like deprived of my natural passion.”

  “Have you been… blocked of your natural passion before?”

  “Yes, but never this long. It usually comes in random spurts and lasts for a few days, maybe a week.”

  “I know what can help.”

  “What’s that?”

  Her lips pressed up, an adorable smile, spreading wide. “Ice cream. I’m about to make a new batch. You can be my taster. The first to try Margarita Madness.”

  “Margarita Madness? Let me guess. Taco Tuesday inspired you?”

  “Pretty much, though I’m not sure parents will be too happy with the name, so it’s just for fun right now.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “A little lime, a little orange, dash of Himalayan sea salt and to cut the acid, a little sweet coconut.”

  “That sounds delicious.”

  “Let’s hope it tastes as good as it sounds.” She took the ice cream mix and poured it into the ancient maker. She hit a button and spun. “Now we wait.”

  Silence spread between them, a weird energy in the air as if she was resisting him as much as he was resisting her. “I was thinking you can start next week. A warm front is supposed to come in, so that way you won’t be freezing your butt off out there. I mean, if that works for you.”

  She glanced down, shyness dominating her movements.

  He nodded. “Works perfectly for me.”

  She pressed her glasses into place and smiled. “Good.”

  “Have you heard from Reid?”

  “Nope. I figured if he found something, he’d call me. The surveillance videos had nothing on them. Whoever it was either didn’t drive or knew where the cameras were angled to avoid being caught. I’m thinking this is going to be one of those unsolved cases. But that’s okay. I’m sure it wasn’t done maliciously. Probably a bored teen trying to look cool in front of his friends.”
/>   “I never vandalized property to look cool,” he said.

  “That’s because you were a good kid.”

  “I wasn’t all that good. I had a wild side.”

  She swallowed, her throat bobbing with the motion. “Yes, but you didn’t hurt anyone or any place in the process.”

  “What about you?” he asked. “Ever have a wild side?” He was pretty sure he already knew the answer. Krissy was reserved and played by the rules.

  “The wildest thing I have ever done was… the other night with you.”

  A satisfied smile settled on his lips. “It was kind of fun, wasn’t it?”

  Her blush deepened. “A little.”

  He gasped, eyes widening, mocking shock.

  “Okay fine, a lot, but—”

  “I know. One-time thing.”

  She bit her lip, and he had to look away. “Yeah.” She yanked at the sleeve of her shirt, then met his eyes. “When did you want me to sit for you? Maybe working on portraits can help spark your creativity again.”

  “Are you free tonight?” He wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to spend more time with her.

  “Tonight?” Her voice squeaked, which he found adorable.

  “Yes, tonight. Come by my studio, say eight-ish. Have to watch Jeopardy with the old man at seven.” It was their nightly tradition, and unless he was out of town, or Grandpa was down at the restaurant, he couldn’t miss it.

  “Your studio?” Her voice rose into a question.

  “Of course. Where else would we go?”

  “It’s just that your studio is in the backyard of your house.”

  “It is.”

  “The house you live in with your grandfather. The house your sister frequents while she’s home.”

  “Yes, my grandfather lives in the house, and my sister comes and goes since her old bedroom is still technically hers until she fully moves out.”

  “Exactly!”

  “I’m not following.”

  “What if someone sees me?”

  “You’re coming over so I can paint you, a fair trade for me helping you here. It’s not like you’re coming over to fuck.” He pushed off the counter and moved toward her. She backed up, her ass hitting the freezer. “Unless, that’s what you had in mind.” He’d be more than happy to accommodate the request.

  She sucked in a jagged breath, and he pressed into her. His gaze settled on her bottom lip, wanting to nip at the plump skin. Her eyes widened as she looked at him, her lips parted and pressed shut again.

  She tilted her chin upward, blinked once, twice as if she was having a debate in her mind. Her body moved against him, his cock hardening at the movement. He lowered his head slowly, making his descent to her mouth.

  She jolted, escaping his vicinity and hurried over to the ice cream machine. “I will come over to sit for you, but there will be no”—she cleared her throat—“fucking.” She adjusted her glasses, even though they were perfectly in place.

  He laughed. He couldn’t help it. She was sexy as hell when she was frazzled.

  “What if you change your mind?”

  She went to the machine and turned the lever. Pale green ice cream streamed out like a ribbon. “I won’t, and if you don’t behave yourself, I’ll have Ella sit with us.”

  Smart. Very, very smart. “Fine. It’s a deal.”

  “Good. Now eat this.” She shoved a small spoon at him, and he brought it to his mouth. A delicious combination of flavors exploded on his tongue, reminding him of warm summer days. “This is awesome,” he said. “It has that balance you wanted. Citric, but sweet, a little salt, creamy. I think you have a winner.”

  She grabbed another small spoon and scooped herself a little. She brought it to her mouth, and his eyes lingered, watching as she sucked the ice cream off, her tongue swiping for the last drop. Her lids slipped shut, and she let out a satisfied groan. The sound went right to his groin. “That is yummy. Ella’s going to love this one.” She shimmied, and he laughed.

  “Do you always do a happy dance after coming up with a new flavor?”

  A pretty crimson bloomed on the apples of her cheeks. “What’s the fun in life if you don’t get to celebrate?”

  Her outlook on life had always been refreshing. Her childhood might not have been as tragic as his, but her mother had walked out on her and her dad when she was only seven. Luckily her stepmom came into her life a few years later, and other than the obvious physical differences, Tony never would have known Vivian wasn’t her biological mom. Viv had been a staple in Krissy’s life for as long as he’d known her.

  He knew deep down, Krissy harbored pain for being abandoned by the one woman who was supposed to love her most. Still, despite the heartache, she was always positive and happy.

  “I love your view of the world and life.”

  She shrugged. “I like finding joy in the little things. It’s so easy to dwell on the bad and let yourself fall into a pit of despair. I won’t do that.”

  She didn’t say it, but Tony knew it was because that’s how her biological mother lived. Everyone and everything was out to get her. She couldn’t be happy, because she only saw the bad in everything. How someone as sweet and upbeat as Krissy came from that woman was beyond him, but he was grateful for it.

  He clapped his hands together. “Okay. What flavor is next?”

  “Don’t you want to go? I mean you’ll be seeing me later.”

  “One of these days you’ll realize I actually enjoy spending time with you.”

  She didn’t say anything, just smiled and batted her eyes away, grabbing a notepad and holding it up to him. She pointed a short, clean nail at the page and tapped in the middle of the doodles. He squinted, leaning forward to get a better read. “Praline pumpkin cheesecake.” His eyes widened, and he leaned back, head tilting. “Pumpkin cheesecake is my favorite.”

  “I know. You’re kind of the inspiration behind this. I figured why do we have to wait until fall for everything pumpkin?”

  “I couldn’t agree more. Pumpkin and the beach can work. Why not?”

  “I thought I’d give it a try.”

  “What’s the name?”

  “I haven’t come up with one yet.”

  “What about Spicy Tony?”

  She barked out a laugh that echoed through the small ice cream shop. Her lips parted like she wanted to speak, but more laughter poured out. “No,” she finally managed.

  “What?” he asked. “Pumpkin is spicy with all the different spices, and I’m the inspiration. I think it’s perfect.”

  She shook her head, still laughing.

  “Sweet Tony?”

  “Better, but no.” Another giggle slipped, and she inhaled, letting it out slowly. “People need to know what they’re getting.

  “That’s what the description is for.”

  “Cheesy Tony.”

  “Now that’s not nice.”

  “Who said anything about being nice?” She winked at him, and he moved toward her.

  “Why is it okay for you to flirt?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened, and her lips opened and closed. “I’m not flirting.”

  “What was that wink? If you ask me, you’re flirting, and you don’t even realize it.”

  “No, I’m… not.”

  “Said with all the confidence in the world.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and lingered. “It’s okay to like flirting with me. I like flirting with you, too.” The air between them heated, sparks erupting on his skin. She was so close, her lips so kissable. Everything in him wanted to stop with the games and kiss her exactly how he knew she wanted, but he needed to get a few things straight first. “And I know the age difference might bother you, but it’s two years. We’re not kids anymore. Besides, Cami and Enzo look at Marco and Aubrey. They have the same age gap as us.”

  “That’s different,” her words were breathy, proving his proximity was affecting her.

  “How?”

  “He’s older.”

&nb
sp; “So?” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone.

  She bit her lip before meeting his gaze. “It’s proven that women mature faster than men.”

  He stepped closer to her, surrounding her in his heat and his masculine scent. “Oh, I’m all man, baby.”

  She jumped back and swatted. “Stop that!”

  “Stop what.”

  “Using that tone with me.”

  “What tone?”

  “That sexy manly tone that makes you all alpha male. You’re the sensitive and vulnerable Morretti brother.”

  “Can’t I be both?”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Do you smell that?”

  “Nice try,” he said. “But that’s not going to detour me.”

  She shoved at his chest. “No really. It smells like something is burning.”

  He sniffed the air, and his nostrils were assaulted by the scent. “The electric heater, maybe?” He hurried over to the heater and unplugged it. The acrid smell of smoke penetrated the air. He leaned down, checking the wire, and sniffed, trying to detect the source.

  She had plugged the heater directly into the wall, and the wires were fine, not even hot.

  “Tony!” Krissy’s voice bellowed out. Her hand on her mouth, she pointed out the window.

  Black smoke spiraled into the air from a row of bushes, and orange flames engulfed the first bush. He grabbed the fire extinguisher and ran outside. The fire lapped at the brush, growing and spreading to the next bush.

  “What the…?”

  “Be careful!” Krissy yelled, running up behind him.

  “Stay back,” he cautioned, afraid if the wind shifted, she’d get hurt. He opened the extinguisher and white foam burst from the nozzle, but the flames spread faster than he could extinguish them. A crackling sound resonated through the day as a bush turned to nothing.

  “Oh God, what if it spreads to the building?” Panic laced Krissy’s words, then she took off, running to the side of the cone shaped structure. Hopefully, she was calling 911. Though by the time the fire department showed up, it might be too late. One shift of the wind and it was all over.