Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (16 page)

Despite her vow not to make any promises, there was no way she could refuse an appeal like that.

“You’re on,” she told him. “But I want a promise from you, too.” She knew she couldn’t ask him to stay beyond the date of their uncles’ return, but she felt pretty safe with this one. “I-I want one of your specialty ice cream sundaes every morning. With the works. Do I have your complete consent?”

“You do.” Rob looked at her, something intangible in his expression. “And you should know, this handsome Italian-American businessman is a man of his word.”

Ah, yes. And a man of her dreams.

* * * * *

ONE HOUR AND forty-seven minutes into their Thursday morning shift, the phone rang.

Rob ran over to grab it, but he was too late. Whoever called had hung up. He shrugged and returned his gaze to tracing visual patterns on Elizabeth’s sexy legs. Oh, the things he wanted to do to those legs…and to about two hundred of her other body parts.

Ever since midnight on Sunday—hell, even before that—he’d been crazed with wanting her, but they’d confined their physical activities to making out, feeding each other ice cream, making out, holding hands at his Mama’s house and making out some more. Even Tony admitted to Rob in private that their relationship sure didn’t look like a charade now.

Well, it wasn’t. The fact that it couldn’t last the week didn’t make the bizarre sensations he was feeling any less memorable. She was a phenomenal lady. And she was brilliant, so it was better that she didn’t have him hanging around for long. Her infatuation with his body would wear off soon enough.

Jacques had all but told him she’d only accept true, long-lasting love before committing herself. “She’s got high principles,” he said earlier in the week, his voice so icy as to be almost threatening. “She won’t put up with shallowness or weak promises.”

Rob didn’t argue with him, but Jacques made it clear that even if he liked Rob well enough in the sweets shop, he disapproved of Rob’s romantic connection to Elizabeth.

Gretchen, although basically supportive, eyed him distrustfully when she thought he wouldn’t notice.

And Nick…well, he was still pretty oblivious.

The phone rang again and, this time, Rob got it.

“Hello? Tutti-Frutti,” he said.

“Roberto!”

“Uncle Pauly?”

“Buon giorno!
How are you?”

“Good. Great. All is well. Tutti-Frutti is doing just fine, although everyone in town misses you both. How has your trip been going? How is Siegfried? What about Anita? And, oh, do you have the details yet on when your flight comes in this weekend?”

“Ah, Roberto, such a responsible boy you are. We knew we made the best choice when we chose you and Elizabeth to run the shop. Isn’t that right, Siegfried?”

Rob heard some words to the affirmative and several delighted exclamations in German. An unidentifiable
something
in his uncle’s tone niggled at him, though.

“So, uh, your flight?” he asked again.

“Is little Elizabeth around there anywhere?” Uncle Pauly said instead.

“Ah, yeah, sure.” She’d just finished with a customer, so he motioned for her to come by him.

“Good, good,” Uncle Pauly said, somewhat distractedly, Rob thought.

The two uncles were whispering back and forth on the other end of the line and, when Elizabeth got to the phone, Siegfried took over.

“Liebling?”
Siegfried said to her.

She and Rob held the receiver so both could hear. “Hi, Uncle Siegfried. We miss you. How is everything going over there? Is Aunt Anita recovering?”

“Wonderbar!
Yes, Anita is doing so well, we are all very pleased. And Europe—being back in Germany again—it’s a magnificent thing. There is nothing like home.”

This statement was followed by no less than eleven straight long-distance minutes of description, on everything from local landmarks to regional restaurant delicacies to friendly visitors who came by to see Anita, with interjections by Uncle Pauly on all things Italian, as gleaned from the European cable channels and the occasional tourist.

During the uncles’ one-sided conversation, Rob caught Elizabeth’s eye. Not one, but both of hers were open wide and looking very green and worried.

So, she sensed something was up, too. Terrific.

It finally came out about three minutes after the Bavarian food report.

“So, we decided to stay on a little longer,” Siegfried said cheerfully. “Since Anita’s health is improving steadily, we thought we might take a little excursion to Italy, for Pauly’s sake. So he, too, can enjoy a visit to his homeland. And then we’ll return to check on your aunt again. Make sure she’s still recovering.”

Neither Rob nor Elizabeth opened their mouths.

“Liebling?”

Uncle Pauly’s voice boomed over the line, too. “Roberto?”

Elizabeth was the one who’d gained enough composure to actually speak. “Uh-huh?”

Well, so it wasn’t exactly eloquent, but she sure had one up on him. He couldn’t make a single damn sound.

“You said everything was going well, Roberto,” his uncle said. “This is true, isn’t it?”

He managed a “Yeah,” but that was all.

“Okay, good. So, say hi to your Mama, and we’ll see you both in early August then.”

“Maybe mid-August,” Siegfried corrected.

“W-W-What?” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes tight and clenched the phone until her knuckles shown like hard ridges.

“WHAT!” Rob yelled into the line a heartbeat later.

“Oh, sorry,” Siegfried said. “The connection must be getting bad. I said we’d be back in August sometime. Don’t know the exact date yet, but Pauly and I will keep you both posted. Thanks for all you’re doing. We’ll be in touch.”

“U-Uncle S-Siegfried!” Elizabeth said in the loudest voice he’d ever heard her use.

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot. I love you, too,
Liebling.”

“Bye, Roberto!”

And then their crafty old uncles hung up on them.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Elizabeth whispered.

His sentiments exactly.

CHAPTER NINE

ROB DECIDED, FROM that moment forward, he wasn’t going to let anything throw him.

He spent the next week making vows:

He’d deal with life in Wilmington Bay for as long as he had to, knowing he’d get to leave as soon as the two uncles returned. But, in the meantime, he’d…

Relax.

Be positive.

Enjoy what there was to enjoy.

And try to keep his emotions on an even keel with Elizabeth. Just because they had a little more time together than he’d thought, it didn’t mean the expected end wasn’t going to happen. And so, he’d just have to find a way to liven up the summer a little more. Distract them both a bit.

“Another customer headed up the walk,” Jacques said, still using his frosty voice more often than not.

“I’ll get this one,” Rob told him. “Why don’t you take a break from the counter and finish up the stuff you were doing in the backroom with the lemon bars?”

The Frenchman muttered his agreement in a way that was not exactly rude, but not exactly warm and fuzzy either.

Rob missed the easy camaraderie he and the other man had shared prior to him and Elizabeth going public with their relationship. Now there was always something in the air between him and Jacques. If Elizabeth hadn’t said she considered Jacques simply a good friend, he’d have thought there’d been some kind of romantic history between them.

“Hi, Rob,” one of the regulars said. “Can I get a scoop of Vanilla Fudge Almond and one of Raspberry Burst in a waffle cone please?”

“Coming right up,” Rob told the guy. “Want a topping today? We’ve got nuts, sprinkles, chocolate chips, crushed cookies…you name it.”

“Got any chocolate-covered raisins?”

He shook his head. “We don’t carry that one, but it sounds like it’d be good.”

The man nodded vigorously. “Oh, it’s the best. How about candy cane slivers? My wife loves that.”

He shook his head again. Man, by comparison, their in-house toppings were starting to sound kind of boring. “Sorry, but you’re giving me a lot of good ideas.”

“What about those candy-coated sugar rocks that jump and pop around like fireworks in your mouth?”

“No, sorry.”

“Ah, I’ll just take my cone plain today,” the guy said. “Maybe you’ll have some different selections soon and I’ll give those a whirl.”

As the customer paid, the spark of an idea began to take form in Rob’s mind. A way to add some needed excitement to the coming week.

“Do you think,” he asked the man, “that other people in town would be interested in being creative with their toppings, too? That some of them have other unusual favorites?”

“Heck, yeah. You should meet my sister Leah. She puts caramel apple slices on her ice cream. And her husband Cal likes—and I’m serious about this—toasted blueberry waffles, cut up into cubes, sprinkled on top of his ice-cream bowl like croutons.”

Rob nodded. “Weird.”

“No kidding, but it ain’t bad tasting either.”

“You think if we asked the good people of Wilmington Bay to bring in a sample of their favorite ice cream toppings, they’d do it?”

“Oh, absolutely.” The guy licked his cone and waved farewell. “Sounds like good fun.”

“Hmm,” he said as he watched the man leave. Fourth of July was coming up in a few days. People were always milling around the shop. This might give them something new to talk about. Kind of like a Treat Swap for the community.

He pulled out a huge piece of tag board from the storage closet and grabbed a few markers. He stared at it and tried to think of the best way to advertise the event. He was still staring when a couple of teen girls came into the shop.

“Either of you any good at drawing?” he asked them.

The tall blue-eyed one pointed at the short brown-eyed one. “She’s awesome.”

He told them what he wanted to convey and handed the art supplies over to them. “You each get a fudge brownie and a double-dip ice cream cone on the house if you can figure out how to make this sign look good.”

The girls hooted their delight and set to work.

Ten minutes later, some high school guys showed up.

“Hey, what’re they doing?” one of them asked Rob, pointing to the teen artists, deep in concentration.

He told them.

“Got anything else you need done?” another boy asked. “Fliers, maybe?”

“I’ve got a killer graphics system on my computer,” the third boy said.

Rob grinned at the young entrepreneurs, gave them the event information and a free ice cream sandwich each. “You get another one when you come back with the fliers.”

“We could distribute them, too, if you want,” the first kid said eagerly.

“I want,” Rob told them. “Just name your sweet reward when you’re done.”

“All right!” the boys said, racing out of the shop. “This is way cool.”

“Yes, it is,” Rob said. Then, over his shoulder to a slightly scowling Jacques, “Don’t you think so?”

Jacques bowed his head. “I do think so,” he said, his voice no longer icy, just kind of defeated. “But I’m not sure Elizabeth is going to agree.”

Oh, yeah. Elizabeth.

* * * * *

“WHAT WERE YOU thinking?” Elizabeth said to Rob “Mr. Big Idea” Gabinarri. “I thought we w-went over this before. There’s a limit to the number of people we’re legally allowed to have in the shop.”

He looked at her with the exuberant, unapologetic gaze of a religious revivalist. “So, we’ll have the First Annual Tutti-Frutti Topping Taste Test outside at the park. There’s no limit to the number of people who can hang out there.”

“Exactly. There are no parameters for control either. Not everyone is g-going to be there for the right reasons, Rob. Some people just crave chaos and will want to create it—at our expense. The Wilmington Bay police force doesn’t have the budget, the manpower or the time to have a security team on hand for events like these.”

“Relax, Elizabeth. You’re overreacting. It’ll be pure fun with no worries.” He grinned at her and pulled her to him, giving her the kind of kiss that always made her unable to speak for a solid minute afterward. “You sure have a suspicious nature, don’t you?”

“Yes. I guess I do. It—it’s just—quiet people like me watch other people a lot. We see what they do. And, sure, there are lots of really great, really respectful Wilmington Bay citizens out there, no doubt. But I’ve also seen what lengths some people will go to in order to get attention.” She shuddered. “Plus, I hate crowds.”

She knew he didn’t believe there would be any problems with his Topping Taste Test, but jovial guys like Rob rarely took the time to look at the social undercurrents created by the events they hosted. They were too busy flitting around, laughing about things, chatting as though their words might stop flowing if they ceased talking for two whole minutes. They must be attuned to a completely different set of nonverbal messages than the ones she focused on. Which wasn’t to say hers were right and his were wrong.

Not exactly.

But they sure were dissimilar, and she wished she could get him to open his eyes to what lay beneath the surface of a supposedly “pure fun” social gathering.

Unfortunately, it was too late now to do anything to stop it. Colorful fliers advertising the event were tacked up all over town, and a big poster hung in the window of the shop. She’d just have to deal with it.

“No one’s going to try anything out of hand at this event,” he said, running his fingers through her hair and nibbling a little at her neck. She lost her train of thought and didn’t bother to try to argue with him further.

The doors jangled as someone entered.

“Gabinarri,” Lance Burk’s distinctive sneering voice said loudly. “I see you’re still in town—” he shot Elizabeth a disgusted look, “and still fooling around. As always. Why haven’t you packed up your last-year’s-model sports car and headed back to Chicago? Could it be there’s not much left to return to?”