Series: Chicago Sin Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“What’s your favorite flavor?” he asks.
“Whatever you have,” I answer. When it comes to ice cream, there is no such thing as a bad flavor.
Armando goes to order, leaving me to enjoy the music. As he waits in line, he turns around and waves at me, a grin spreading across his face. My heart flutters as I wave back, feeling a warm sensation in my chest. When he returns to the table, he has two cones in his hand.
“Two scoops. One is caramel chocolate, and the other is cookie dough.” I see pride on his face that he’s picked the best two flavors there are.
“Perfect.”
We sit there, enjoying our ice cream and listening to the music. It’s simple. Relaxed.
“You grow up in Chicago?” Armando asks, studying me over the top of his ice cream cone.
“Yep. Born and raised.”
“Do your parents live here?”
I nod. “Yes. My mom’s a nurse, and my dad works in construction.”
It’s crazy to have this casual conversation with Armando. Nothing about Armando and me up to this point has been simply casual. It’s like we’re the only two people in the world right now, and nothing else matters.
“You?”
He nods. “Born and bred. It was just my ma and me, but we’re Italian, so I have a huge extended family. Twenty-some cousins. I’m closest with Marco and his brother Leo. They’re like brothers to me, really. Oh, how we used to hell around.” A warmth comes into his normally dead gaze. The light in his eyes makes me feel more alive than I’ve felt in a long time. He’s actually sharing. He’s opening up when I wasn’t sure that was a possibility with this man.
“Thanks for this,” I say when we finish our treat. “I haven’t had a real day off in a long time,” I admit. “And even when I tried, my mind was always so full of worry. So this is a rare day for me.”
“We’re going to have to fix that.”
“We?”
He smirks. “You’re stuck with me, Flowers.” His face grows serious, his eyes darken. “You work too hard. You take on too much on those perfect shoulders of yours. It’s time you have someone help with the heavy lifting.”
I’ve always been an independent woman. Someone who wants to stand on my own two feet, but damn if it doesn’t feel good to have a man sitting across from me… protecting and looking out for my well-being.
I finish my cone and wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Thank you,” I say, not wanting the moment to end.
“Of course,” he replies, taking my hand in his again. “We should do this more often.”
I nod, feeling a smile spread across my face. “I’d like that.”
As we leave the shop, I realize that this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time. I don’t know what the future holds, but I know that I want him by my side. I want to hold his hand and walk under the sunlight every day. I want to listen to him talk and figure out how to make him laugh, but I also don’t mind his darkness and the shadows that haunt his eyes.
I want to taste more ice cream with him and explore more charming little shops, but I also want to be there for him when the scars of his past come back or his demons conquer the day. I want to fall in love with him, and I want him to fall in love with me.
We stroll down the street, enjoying the warm breeze and each other’s company. It doesn’t seem like we have a destination in mind, but that doesn’t matter. We’re content just being together.
Suddenly, he stops in front of a small boutique. It’s filled with vintage clothes and accessories. He turns to me, his eyes shining with excitement. “Let’s go in.”
I follow him inside, feeling like a kid in a candy store. The boutique is even more charming than the ice cream shop. The walls are covered in bright wallpaper, and the clothes on the racks are like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s like stepping back in time, but also so trendy.
He starts picking out clothes for me to try on, and I can’t help but laugh. He has a great sense of style, and everything he chooses would look amazing on me. As we browse through the racks, I feel a sense of closeness with him that I’ve never felt before. It’s like we’re in our own little world, and nothing can bring us down.
After trying on a few outfits due to his urging, I settle on a vintage floral dress. He pays for it without hesitation, insisting that I look beautiful in it. I’m noticing that he likes to take care of me, and I need to allow him to do it. I need to resist the urge to fight him on money and to constantly worry over every little cent.