Page 17 of Sweet Bred

When I return to Juliet, she looks even more comfortable on the blanket. She happily takes the ice cream cone from me and gives it an eager lick. The sight of her pink tongue gliding over the ice cream and the sound of the little moan that subsequently slips out of her lips makes my blood pulse hard, but I reign myself in.

“Good, right?” I say.

She nods. “It’s delicious. Didn’t you get any for yourself?”

“Nah. I’ve had plenty already.”

“I think I’m going to need your help finishing this. These are huge scoops.” She peers around the cone. “Oh, no. It’s already dripping on my hand.”

“Ah, shit. I forgot napkins.”

“It’s okay.” She tilts her head and quickly swipes her tongue over the ice cream dripping down her fingers. “There. I’m good. Please help me eat some of this, though.”

She has such an insistent look on her face that I don’t bother asking if she’s sure she wants me to lick her ice cream. I lean in and help myself to it.

It tastes even better than I remember.

“Oh, you have a little…” Juliet says, gesturing to her own mouth.

I lick the corner of my mouth. “All good?”

“All good.”

She smiles at me, sending another surge of warmth rushing through me. Fuck, she’s so pretty. If I could see that smile every day, I would be the world’s happiest man.

It takes everything in me not to lean over and kiss her right then and there.

After the movie, I ask Juliet if I can walk her back to her car. I’ve already made up my mind that I’m going to ask her out on a real date, but I haven’t figured out how to go about it. Despite all the encouraging signals I’ve been getting from her, I don’t want to do the wrong thing and mess everything up.

As we walk away from the crowd, moving into a more private space of our own, I clear my throat and ask her the question I’ve been wondering for weeks.

“So…about that message you left me,” I say. “How have you been?”

Her shoulders deflate a little. “Uh…it’s been a rough few weeks.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I mean, it’s all for the best. Eric and I never should have gotten engaged in the first place. But it’s been a mess.” She looks at me cautiously. “Do you really want to hear about my personal drama?”

“If you want to talk about it, I want to hear about it. As much or as little as you want to share.”

As we continue to walk, she tells me about how she learned that Eric was using her to maintain a facade. She tells me about how betrayed she felt, but also how relieved she was to finally be freed from an engagement she never truly wanted. And then she tells me how upset both of their parents were when they told them the wedding was off, and how ever since then, her parents have been blaming her for everything falling apart.

“Jesus,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s awful, Juliet. I’m so sorry.”

She swallows and looks down at the folded blanket in her arms. By then, we’ve reached her car, but she hasn’t pulled out her keys.

“The thing is, I blame myself, too,” she says.

I frown. “You do? Why?”

“From the first day I met Eric, I knew there wasn’t any potential, but I went along with it because my parents liked him so much. I should have had the courage to do the right thing instead of the easy thing. And I really shouldn’t have said yes when he proposed to me. But it felt like it was my one and only chance.”

“What are you talking about?”

She shrugs. “I’ve always just been viewed as the chubby girl who has her nose stuck in a book. No one has ever shown any interest in me. So when Eric started paying attention to me, it was a big deal. It felt like I was in no position to turn him down. But I should have known better.”

“I really don’t think you should blame yourself.” I reach out and gently tip her chin up. “And I hope this doesn’t come across as dismissive of your feelings, but I have an impossible time believing that men don’t notice you. You’re beautiful.”

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