It was hot sitting in the sun and Dallas was getting a little cranky waiting for Berry and Cody. 

“Well, how dumb am I to be sitting right outside an air-conditioned ice cream parlor while I complain about the heat?” Dallas muttered. She picked up the bags from Bling and her shoulder bag, and went inside.

“Looks like someone’s been shopping.” Steffie was leaning on the counter near the cash register. 

Dallas smiled and held up the bags. “I could really lose my head in that place.”

“Vanessa would be delighted to hear that.”

“The woman has fabulous taste. If Bling was in California, I’d be there every day.” Dallas paused near the menu board. “What do I want today?”

“I think you want something light but fruity and refreshing. Maybe the lemon meringue. It’s brand new. Want a taste?”

“Sure.” 

Steffie grabbed a plastic spoon from a cup and opened the freezer case. The spoon disappeared for a moment, then reappeared, a pale yellow confection mounded in its bowl. She handed the spoon over the top of the case to Dallas.

“Oh, man, that is truly heaven.” Dallas sighed after she’d licked the spoon clean. 

“I just made it this morning. It has homemade lemon curd in it.”

“Sold. I’ll have two scoops.” Remembering the meal she’d had the night before, she added reluctantly. “No, better make it one. In a bowl, please.”  

“How ‘bout one generous scoop?”

“You’re the devil, aren’t you? The real one, the one who leads us into temptation...”

Dallas reached up for the bowl just as the door opened behind her. Expecting Berry and Cody, she glanced over her shoulder, ready to admonish them for being late. 

“Grant,” Steffie called from behind the counter, “you’re just in time to say hey to Dallas.”

“Hey, Dallas,” he repeated as if on autopilot.

“Grant.” Dallas forced a smile and hoped it didn’t look as forced as it felt. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Thanks.” He put a friendly hand on her shoulder, as anyone might do when greeting an old friend. “You’re looking good.”

“I’m good.” She nodded and tried to ignore the fact that, beneath her shirt, her skin was starting to warm at his touch.

“I heard you were in town.” Was he avoiding eye contact? Or was she? Either way, Dallas was okay with that. 

“Since last week.” She nodded again, then told herself to stop. Bobble-head was not a good look for anyone.

“My daughter said you might be thinking about getting a dog.” His hand slid away – across her shoulder and down her back - as he walked past her to the counter. She relaxed slightly and exhaled a breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding.

“My son would like a dog, but there’s been no decision yet.”

“I’m sure Paige told you we have lots of adoptable dogs at the shelter.” He turned to his sister. “How ‘bout a double chocolate malt with a dabble of raspberry and some chocolate sprinkles?”

“Oink,” Steffie muttered under her breath, and Grant laughed good-naturedly.

He’d always been like that, Dallas recalled, as she took a seat at a small table just inside the door. He’d always laughed easily and had a great sense of humor. Maybe that’s why she’d never forgotten what his laughter sounded like, or the way his mouth turned up when he smiled. Or the way he...

“Hey, Mom!” The door flew open and Cody burst through.

“Whoa, pal.” Dallas put an arm out to reach for him. “Take it easy. And quick, catch the door before it bangs against the...”

The door hit the wall.

“...wall.” She jumped up to grab it and pull it back. She held it while Berry came inside, then closed it quietly. “You owe Steffie an apology, Cody.”

“I’m sorry I let your door bang.” Cody didn’t look the least bit concerned but he sounded sincere. One out of two wasn’t bad, when you were dealing with a six year old.

“I forgive you,” Steffie told him solemnly. “Now come over here and sample this new flavor and tell me what you think of it.” She dipped into the case. “It’s chocolate chip fudge.”

“Sorry to be late, dear.” Berry sat her handbag on the chair next to Dallas’s. “The story hour ran late, and...” Behind her dark glasses, her eyes scanned the shop. A huge smile spread across her face when she saw the man leaning against the counter. “Why, is that Grant Wyler?”