Page 11 of Feels Like Home

“In a heartbeat, kitten.” He stood behind Jace at the order window, his arms around his mate. Jace was slowly becoming comfortable with Ian touching him. His mate was also talking more around Ian.

“What can I get for the two of you?” the teenage girl behind the window asked.

“Strawberry cone,” Jace said.

The girl looked at Ian with a spark of interest in her eyes. “How about you, honey?”

Jace stiffened. Ian wanted to snarl.

“The same as my husband.” He ran his hand down his mate’s arm.

If anything, Jace became even more rigid. Ian paid, wondering if he’d just screwed up. When they stepped aside to wait for their order, he bent to whisper in Jace’s ear.

“How mad are you at me?”

“I’m not.” Jace shoved his hands into his front pockets. Ian pulled them out.

“Be honest with me.” He held his mate’s hands so he wouldn’t try to hide them again.

Ian didn’t mind Jace’s shyness or the way he needed a moment to form his thoughts. He always wanted to know what his mate was thinking, even if it took him a while to answer.

“You’re just…” Jade waved a hand to encompass Ian’s body. “And people like her…” He tossed his hand behind him at the order window.

“Look at me, kitten.” Ian cupped his face. “You’re my date.” My mate. “I have eyes only for you. Also, I’m sorry if I shocked you about the husband thing. I forgot to tell you we eloped while I stole your French fries.”

Jace chuckled. The humor didn’t reach his hazel eyes. “Our cones are ready.”

“I’m going to get our cones. Then we can reclaim our seat on the bench and see who’s the messiest eater.”

Ian walked over to the window and accepted the cones. The same female gave him her most dazzling smile.

“Young lady, if you disrespect my husband one more time, I’ll have a talk with your father. Bryce Cyril, correct? He works at the bank.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, Ian.”

“Mr. Grant,” he corrected. “See that it doesn’t.” He grabbed a handful of napkins off the stack inside the window. Then gave her a polite smile because he wasn’t a total jackass. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Miss Cyril.”

Ian turned and saw that Jace was already seated on the bench. He crossed the street and handed his mate his cone. “Since we eloped, that strawberry ice cream is your wedding band. Don’t eat it too fast, or I might think that you believe the whole eloping thing was a sham.”

Jace licked up the side of the piled-high ice cream, his eyelids fluttering before he licked down the other side.

Ian nearly lost his mind.

His panther purred.

His dick whimpered.

“The flawless dessert.” Jace chased the ice cream off his lips and below his mouth with that wicked tongue. For sanity’s sake, Ian handed him a bunch of napkins. “Strawberry is the best flavor.”

His mate was clueless how sensual he looked eating ice cream. He was simply enjoying it. Ian was simply hard as fuck.

Then Jace mouthed the top of the ice cream. Ian’s cone cracked in his hand. Tiny rivulets of pink seeped down his fingers like little fuchsia streams.

“Your ice cream!” Jace used his napkins to wipe at the mess. “They gave you a busted cone. Your hand is going to be sticky now. Hurry up and lick it before it trickles onto your crotch.”

Sticky. Lick. Trickle. Crotch. Ian’s mind was living rent-free in the gutter. He imagined Jace doing all those things to his crotch. If he didn’t stop that train of thought, it wouldn’t be the ice cream making the front of his jeans sticky.

His mate plucked the cone from Ian’s hand. He gave Ian his to hold then wrapped napkins around the cracked one. “This isn’t a great fix, but if you eat yours fast enough, you can avoid making things stickier.”

---