Mercer turned, stopping right in front of Adam. “You can’t hide from your feelings forever, you know. This may seem like too much too soon for you, but fuck that, it’s what you need at the right time. You can’t sulk away for another year, living your life like a dead man. You have a new opportunity. Live a little. And for fuck's sakes, have some ice cream. No one can be mad eating ice cream.”
Adam didn’t speak, his eyes refusing to blink as he watched Mercer until finally, he caved, reached up, and took the bag from Mercer. “Go get our wife.”
Our?
That thought was laughable. We couldn’t share a fucking wife. Yet here we all were, ice cream in hand, trying to please the only female in our home like it was our job to do so.
Mercer stayed rooted in front of him for another few moments before he turned, disappearing down the hall. When he was out of sight, I raised a brow. “Our wife?”
“I didn’t say that,” he denied.
“Sure as hell did.” My steps led me toward the kitchen. Adam followed with Lady on his heels.
“I’m positive I said my,” he insisted. “Why is this dog following me?”
“You have food, and she likes you,” I stated the obvious. “She’s sweet. Try petting her sometime.”
“Petting a dog? Absolutely not.” The disgust that dripped from his words was damn near tangible. I could feel how repulsed he was by the thought.
I placed the paper bag on the kitchen island before unloading the Styrofoam cartons from it. When my bag was empty, I took Adam’s and did the same. Bellamy entered right as Adam asked, “Why the hell did you get so much? We’ll never finish this.”
“We didn’t know what flavor she liked.”
Bellamy’s eyes went wide as she looked at the cartons of ice cream. She bent down, picking up Lady and rubbing between her ears. “You guys did this for… me?”
Were her eyes getting watery? Shit. I could handle blood, guts, splattered brains, but I could not handle tears of any sort. It made me feel weak and helpless, and I never wanted to feel so out of control as I did when tears flowed that I couldn’t stop.
Mercer looked uncomfortable as he shifted from foot to foot. “You couldn’t go to ice cream, so we brought it to you.”
“That’s…“ Her lip trembled. “Thank you.”
With the dog still in her hands, she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek, and before I could process the feeling that I suspected was jealousy, she was at my side, her lips grazing my cheek too. Adam looked on, his eyes an unreadable fire, but then, even though he had absolutely nothing to do with the execution of this ice cream run, she stretched up and kissed his cheek, leaving him stiff when she pulled back.
His hand went to his cheek, unsure how to handle the affection. His stupor ended when Lady leaned up, offering her own version of a kiss. Instead of acting disgusted by the dog like he had been mere minutes ago, his hand left his cheek and patted her on the head.
Bellamy hadn’t seemed to notice the trance she had put us in. Instead, she walked to the island, still hugging the dog tight, and began picking up the cartons of ice cream and reading the flavors that were written on them in sharpie.
“What’s your favorite?” she asked, and when I looked up, she was looking directly at me.
“I-um, I’ll eat whatever is left over. I’m not picky.” Shit, I was almost stuttering like a nervous child.
“That wasn’t what I asked.” Her long lashes fanned her cheek as she looked down at the flavors. “What is your favorite?”
I never really thought about my favorite ice cream. As a kid, I never had the luxury of enjoying it. But when I got ice cream, I’d always pick pistachio because that was what my sister loved. And maybe it was the memory that ties me to it because to this day, I pick it, and when I eat it, I think of her. “Pistachio.”
She reached forward, reading the cartons until she found the pistachio, then handed it to me with a plastic spoon. I took it and looked at it for a moment, unsure how to handle thiswhole sharing thing combined with her taking my likes into consideration. “I- we got this for you.”
“And I want you to have pistachio.” She pointed out before turning to Mercer, one brow raised in challenge as she waited for him to answer an unasked question.
When she didn’t speak, the corner of one side of his lip tilted, and I swore his eyes sparkled with something similar to love. “Cookies and cream.”
She handed him the pint of cookies and cream, then cocked her hip as she waited for Adam’s favorite ice cream. “I don’t like ice cream.”
He was a damn liar. I knew for a fact he ate ice cream. But before I could even mention that fact, Mercer answered for him. “His favorite ice cream is rocky road. Ice cream is one of his favorite foods and don’t let the fact that he’s jaded in his old age fool you. He has his secretary sneak him some at least once a week.”
She smiled triumphantly before handing him over his pint of ice cream. “Thank you, Mercer, that was helpful.”
“Anytime, little girl.” He leaned against the counter, already digging into his ice cream. “What’s your favorite?”