Page 22 of Follow My Heart

Next I showed her how I packed the ice cream into cartons and where we stored them in the deep freezer until we needed them out front.

“Do you think this will be a popular flavor?” Faith asked when we were done.

“I’ve never served it before, so we’ll see. I don’t make a lot of a new flavor until I’ve given it a test run.”

“You aren’t worried about wasting money on a flavor someone won’t like?” Ryder had mainly observed us work, his gaze keeping my blood at a low simmer.

“It’s always a risk. That’s why I don’t make a lot of it. Now with s’mores, I knew I was on to something. Chocolate is my best-selling flavor by far, and I knew marshmallows would be a hit with the kids.”

“Where do you get your inspiration from?” Faith asked while I cleaned the counter and placed the bowls in the sink to wash up later.

I smiled. “I eat something I like. Then I wonder if I can make it into ice cream.”

“That’s it?” Faith asked incredulously.

“The more you do it, the better you get at predicting what people will like. The more creative you get. The imagination is like a muscle: the more you work it, the better it is.”

“Dad must not work his imagination muscle at all because he has none,” Faith teased him.

“Hey!” Ryder swiped some sugar out of the bag still resting on the counter and threw it in her direction.

Faith squealed and covered her face before blindly reaching for the bag of sugar and snagging a handful.

Ryder held his hands up. “We can’t mess up Violet’s shop.”

“You started it!” Faith exclaimed as she looked in my direction, and at my nod, let lose with her sugar.

I joined in the fight. I should have been upset about how dirty the kitchen was getting, but I was having too much fun. Faith was squealing with laughter, her eyes bright and shiny. Even Ryder was getting into it, ducking and diving behind the counter to avoid our onslaught.

Eventually, Ryder grabbed me with an arm around my middle and pulled me against him. The air rushed out of my lungs with a whoosh, and my body heated. When I stopped struggling, I realized that my ass was cradled against his dick. I felt every hard inch of him.

As if Ryder realized the same thing, he let me go. “Truce?”

My face was flush, and my skin overheated, but I nodded. “Truce.”

“This place is a mess,” Faith said, wiping the flour off her face.

“Let’s get cleaned up. Then we can tackle the kitchen.” We washed off as best we could in the bathroom sink, then cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom. I couldn’t believe all the places sugar could get into.

When we were done, my back ached, and my feet hurt.

“I’m starving,” Faith said, blowing her bangs out of her eyes.

Ryder raised a brow. “You want to get pizza?”

I felt a pang that our evening was over. But I resigned myself to seeing them later, across the room at the cooking class.

“Yes!” Faith said.

“Don’t forget your ice cream. I’ll put it in a freezer bag, and it should keep while you’re at dinner.”

“Can Violet come with us?” Faith asked as I got a carton of Berger cookie and one of s’more’s out of the cold freezer.

“I suppose it’s only fair to pay for dinner after we messed up her store, and she made us ice cream.”

I waved him off. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’ll see you later at our cooking class.”

“Nope. You’re coming to dinner with us. We’ll take you to the class and drop you off here before I take Faith home.”

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