Vampire Mine - Kerrelyn Sparks [58]
He stepped up to the counter. “A cone, please.”
The lad behind the counter took one look at his kilt and smirked. “Whatever you say, man. What flavor?”
Connor ignored the pimply-faced youth and turned to Marielle. “What kind would ye like?”
“There are so many to choose from.” She wandered down the freezer, peering through the window, then jerked upright with a smile. “Chocolate.”
Connor smiled back. “One scoop of chocolate for the lady.”
“The one wearing the pants in the family?” the lad muttered as he scooped up a ball of chocolate ice cream.
Connor narrowed his eyes. He was sorely tempted to cuff the young whelp on his head, but he wanted to get the ice cream for Marielle.
She edged closer to him and whispered loudly, “Did I ever tell you how much I love your kilt?”
“Nay.” He wondered if she was telling the truth or putting on a show for the rude employee. “Do ye really?”
“Oh yes.” She nodded seriously. “It makes me think about . . . giving you a blow job.”
The lad squeaked and dropped the scoop of ice cream on the floor. “Don’t worry! I’ll get you another one.” He hunched over, digging furiously at the ice cream, his face bright red.
Connor arched a brow at Marielle, and she looked away, her cheeks blushing. He bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.
The lad completed the cone and reached toward Marielle.
“I got it.” Connor grabbed the cone, then passed it on to Marielle. “How much do I owe you?”
The lad told him, then lowered his voice. “That’s an awesome kilt, dude. Where did you get it?”
“In Edinburgh.” Connor retrieved some money from his sporran and handed it to the lad, who looked perplexed. “That’s in Scotland.”
“Oh, right. That’s like . . . far away, huh?”
“Ye could probably order one online,” Connor muttered as he dropped the change into his sporran.
“That’s right!” The lad grinned. “Thanks, dude.” He glanced at Marielle, then gave Connor two thumbs up.
He found himself grinning as he led Marielle from the store and down the sidewalk. “I appreciate what ye did, lass, but there are certain things ye doona talk about in public. For instance, blow—” He glanced at her and jerked to a stop.
Holy Christ Almighty, she was running her tongue all over the scoop of ice cream. A bead of chocolate drizzled down the cone. She caught it with the tip of her tongue, then dragged her tongue up the side of the cone.
His groin tightened. “Good Lord,” he whispered.
She licked her lips. “Would you like some of this?”
God, yes. “Nay.” He frowned at the cone she was extending toward him. “It would probably make me ill.”
“Oh, that’s a shame ’cause it’s really good. Though I’m not quite sure how to eat it.” She opened her mouth, molded her lips around the entire scoop, and sucked on it.
He groaned.
She gave him a worried look. “Are you all right?”
He looked away. “I will be. Where is the nursing home?” And do they have ice packs?
“It’s on the other side of the street. Just past the park.”
“All right.” He walked slowly down the sidewalk, trying his best to ignore the sucking and slurping noises she was making. The ladies didn’t need to give her any instructions. She was a natural.
In spite of the growing discomfort in his kilt, he found himself smiling again. She had purposely embarrassed herself in the ice cream shop in order to lend him support.
A loud noise drew his attention. Someone was having trouble starting a car that was parked half a block up the street. The engine made a whirring sound, then died. He caught the words of the distraught woman inside the car.
“Please, please start! Don’t die on me now. Please, just get me home,” she wailed. “Oh God, help me!”
He took Marielle by the elbow and maneuvered her over to the car. “Let’s cross the street here.”
“Okay.” She took a bite out of the cone, then stepped off the curb.
He pretended to bump into her, causing her to stumble against the car’s rear bumper. “Sorry.”
The car started, and the woman inside squealed with joy.
He bit his lip to keep from laughing