Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Nope. We go together.” Grady grabbed the bourbon-toffee-caramel-chocolate one first and held the bowl between them. Deacon looked at him for a moment as if unsure, then filled his spoon. Grady did the same. “One, two…”
“Down to the second, huh?” Deacon asked.
“Shh. You’re interrupting. We’re about to taste greatness.”
He got a chuckle in reply.
Grady exaggeratedly cleared his throat. “One…two…three.” They both took a bite, and… “Holy shit. That’s good, right? Really fucking good.” It was rich and creamy, the flavors blending together.
“It’s good…”
“I’m sensing a but.”
“I know. Sorry. It’s just, it’s good but overwhelming. With all the other flavors, it’s hard for the bourbon to stand out, and that’s our star here, ya know? You wanted bourbon ice cream, and that’s damn sure what we’re going to have.”
A warmth spread through Grady’s chest, a tingle traveling down his spine, and he liked that more than he should. He might be playing this ice cream game, but it would be Deacon’s flavor, his creation, not Grady’s.
“Try it again,” Deacon told him. “Think about what I said and give me your thoughts. If you think I’m wrong…well, you’d be wrong.”
Grady barked out a laugh. “Good to know I won’t be right.” He did as Deacon said, and…yeah, he was correct. It was overwhelming, all the flavors hiding the bourbon. Deacon cocked a brow, and Grady said, “No comment.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Who knew you were so cocky?”
“No comment,” Deacon returned Grady’s words. They shared another chuckle. “What do you want next? Toffee and caramel, or caramel and chocolate?”
“Toffee and caramel. We’ll save the original idea for last.”
As Grady set down one bowl, Deacon picked the other up. They did the same thing, both dipping their spoons into the same dish and taking a bite, and… “Goddamn,” Grady said.
“You got that right. I think we can even add just a bit more toffee, but it’s really fucking good.” Deacon took another bite, then another, while Grady watched him. He could see the wheels turning in the other man’s head, see him savoring the taste but also doing so with his experience more than anything.
Grady tried it again too, and damn, he couldn’t believe he’d had a hand in this, that Deacon had given him this. Maybe it should seem like a small thing, but it wasn’t. Not to him.
“This is going to be the one,” Deacon told him.
Grady had a feeling he was right. Still, he said, “We still have to try the original. It deserves a fair shot, right?”
“Equality for ice cream?” Deacon joked.
“It’s only fair.” Grady picked it up. They repeated the same process as they had with the first two, and while it was good, something about the other mixture—the toffee-caramel one—stood out to him. It just went together better. “Okay, fine, you were right.”
“Usually am.”
“Seriously, I’m seeing a new side of you today.”
“I know my ice cream. What can I say? Let’s have some more.”
Deacon got another bowl, filled both up, then put the ice cream away, and led Grady to the front of the shop. The blinds were closed, so no one from outside would see them there, and they sat at a table, feet up on a chair, and ate ice cream.
“Do you have a name yet?” Deacon asked.
Grady didn’t answer right away. He was savoring this creation they’d made together. “Not yet. How long do I have?”
“As long as you want.”
“Well, don’t we want to reveal it soon? The flavor.” It took him a moment to realize what he’d said. “You, I mean. Don’t you want to reveal it soon?”
“It’s ours.” Deacon didn’t look at him as he spoke. “And we don’t have to. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. You can’t rush greatness.”
Goddamn, this man was so interesting to him. He had no doubt Deacon would wait until Grady came up with something. He didn’t know why that thought felt so refreshing.
He set his bowl down and walked over to the case. There was a whole section that said Granny’s Favorites. He saw Patricia’s Caramel Apple and Granny’s Mango Spice. “I name some for family members,” Deacon said.
Grady’s eyes found Nathan’s flavor. It was a mixture of chocolate and peanut butter, which made him grin, the memories flooding him. “You know I hated peanut butter until I met Nathan? Sounds silly, doesn’t it? That he could make me like something I didn’t before.”
“Not if you knew Nathan, it doesn’t. Patricia was the same.”
Grady breathed, letting loose the air he’d held. He’d known Deacon would get it.
“Were you, um…were you in love with him? I know you said you were only friends, but the way you talk about him…”
Grady turned around, went over, and sat down again. He could understand why Deacon would say that. He wasn’t the first, but… “No. I wasn’t. I loved him more than I’ve ever loved anyone, but not that way. It’s hard to explain our bond, but I guess when someone helps you accept yourself, it’s hard not to feel a special connection.” He rested his elbow on the table, chin in his hand. “Anyway, sorry. I don’t want to bring the mood down. We were having fun.”