Page 68 of Stick Work

Something passes over Rip’s face, and I get the sense that maybe a trade is in his future. Damn, I do hope he comes to Boston. I remember some of his plays. He really is a kick ass D-man.

As the two talk, Elias puts his hand on my back. “We should get back to our seats.”

Before we walk away, Roman glances at us, a smirk on his face. “Hey, I heard you two eloped.” He gives a low slow whistle. “Let me know when you tell Kalen. I want to be out of town.”

20

Elias

Taylor puts her hand on her stomach. “I couldn’t eat another bug…I mean bite,” she says quickly with a laugh.

“Not funny.”

“Not even a little?”

“No,” I grumble, as we walk down the strip, Mom, Dad and Grandma strolling behind us. Taylor slows and glances at one of the shops. She gives me a sheepish grin. “Unless of course, it’s ice cream.”

“You want ice cream?”

“Who doesn’t want ice cream?” Grandma pipes in from behind. I stop and put my arm around her. “There’s always a separate compartment for dessert.”

“We had dessert,” I point out.

“But it’s Vegas and warm,” Taylor explains. “I can’t eat ice cream in the snow back home.”

“When in Vegas,” I tease, pulling the door open and waving everyone in. “We eat ice cream.”

Grandma wags her finger at me. “When in Vegas, one gets married by Elvis,” she quips with a wink. “My offer still stands.”

“No one is getting married, Grandma.”

“I wouldn’t rule it out just yet. Did you see that cute guy beside me at dinner?”

I laugh. “Roman? You’re talking about Roman Marinelli?”

“Or Rip.” She nudges Taylor. “All lumberjack hotness,” she jokes. “Straight out of a romance novel. A girl could climb that like a tree.” She waves her hand in front of her face. “I might need a double scoop to cool myself down.”

“Oh my God,” I groan, and glance at Mom and Dad, who are grinning and shaking their heads, like this is just another Tuesday with Grandma.

Laughing, Taylor takes Grandma’s hand and they step into the shop. We take our place in line and I check out the list of flavors. “They have boozy ice cream,” I say with a laugh.

“I’m having a double tipsy scoop,” Grandma announces.

“Same,” Mom and Dad agree in unison.

“I feel like I need the tipsy to survive walking this strip with Grandma,” I whisper into Taylor’s ear.

She laughs. “What are you having, dear?” Grandma asks Taylor.

Taylor looks through the glass. “There are so many choices. How can I possibly decide?”

“Can I suggest chocolate fudge cookie dough?”

“That actually sounds amazing.”

Her eyes shine as she smiles at Taylor and it’s easy to see how much she adores my girlfriend, and that thought twists me up inside. “I thought it would,” she says.

Taylor narrows her eyes. “Why’s that?”

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