Page 20 of The Other Guy

It doesn’t take much longer before we’re pulling into the parking lot of The Mixing Stone and see that it is, in fact, open.

She gives me a grin and says, “Told you so.”

“You know most people don’t actually come out and say that. They just think it.”

“I’m not most people.”

She definitely isn’t. But, she’s taken, I remind myself for what feels like the hundredth time. Here visiting only for a short time. And… she’s currently bouncing in her seat with excitement over ice cream. Kid in a candy store… that’s what she looks like.

“Been here before?”

“Uncle Kyle took me once then said we’d never be back again after I embarrassed him by trying to lick the glass. Well, trying to might not be the correct wording there. I couldn’t help it, though. Everything looked so delicious and I’m very serious about my ice cream.”

My jaw drops, mouth open, stomach churns. I wonder if I put the Jeep in reverse right now if she’ll try to jump out while the vehicle is moving or if I can get us out of here first. Damn. I knew she was a bit… zany… but that seems a little extreme.

Her hysterical laughter has me sitting back in my seat and removing my hand from the gear shift. I shoot her a worried glance, wondering if she’s losing her mind. “You all right over there?” I ask, a little amused but nervous, too. She continues laughing, doubling over in her seat and wheezing as she tries to catch her breath.

“Fine. Fine. It wasn’t even that funny. It’s just… you’re so serious and I couldn’t resist. You seem to think I’m this immature little shit that you need to corral or something but I’m not. I just have a lot of energy and enjoy life.”

“I still don’t understand,” I admit.

“I didn’t lick the glass, you dork. I wouldn’t do something like that. I’m not a complete lunatic.”

“Only part lunatic?”

“Yeah. See? You get it! Now, let’s go eat some ice cream.”

Against my better judgement, I follow her as we get out of the Jeep and head toward the door, stupidly excited for the best ice cream in the world. Or, at least three counties.

Sierra stops just inside the door and takes a deep breath. “Okay, that was kind of anti-climactic. It just smells like a building in here. But look! Yum.”

Chuckling, I follow her to the counter and we both order. Her: salted caramel double scoop in a waffle cone with extra caramel sauce and Twix candy bar pieces mixed in. “Whatever you get, I’m trying it, so that’s your one warning. Or maybe I should order for you so I can get my second choice.”

I look at her like she’s out of her mind. “You’re not taking away my choice of ice cream, Sierra.”

She shrugs, watching carefully as the lady behind the counter mixes her ice cream and scoops it into her cone.

“And for you?” she asks me.

I don’t even look at Sierra when I order. “One scoop of the triple chocolate and one of the peanut butter fudge ripple with brownies and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups mixed in.”

“Oh my gosh I approve! I so so approve.”

“You’re not getting any,” I remind her.

She gives me the side-eye and takes the first lick of her ice cream. “We’ll see.”

“Cone or dish?”

“Waffle cone,” I tell her like she’s crazy. Is there any other option?

Sierra moans next to me and I glance at her just in time to see her eyes roll into the back of her head. “It makes that intense workout this morning worth the calories I’m about to digest. So. Good.”

“Intense workout?” I chide, handing over my card to pay for our ice cream. Sierra is too busy eating to even realize that it was time to pay. Not that I’d have let her pay for her own anyway.

Her eyes light up in agreement. “It was, wasn’t it?” I swear she doesn’t hear sarcasm in any of our conversations.

Chuckling, I take my ice cream and we have a seat. Neither of us speak for a few minutes as we’re devouring the sweet and creamy goodness.

---