Page 35 of Make Her Mine
Tiffany came to take his order. “Would you guys want something else?”
“A couple of cones would be great. One vanilla and one strawberry.” He looked at me. “One scoop?”
Nodding my answer, I quietly stood at his side. This was probably how a date ensues. And a great one!
Although many would think it lame, to me, simple things were better than fancy ones. Burgers, fries, and then ice cream sounded better than dining on lobster at some expensive restaurant.
Tiffany handed us the cones. “Enjoy the walk and the ice cream. It’s on the house.”
“Thanks, Tiff,” Brandon said, then gave his a lick.
“Yeah, thank you,” I said as I gave mine a lick, too. “Yummy. It tastes homemade.”
“That’s because it is.” She smiled and waved as we turned to leave. “Bye now. Come back again, ya hear?”
“We will,” Brandon let her know. “This is the best ice cream I’ve ever tasted.”
“They don’t call us Dairy King for nothing,” she shouted as we walked out the door.
A small park was only a short walk away. Kids played on the playground, laughing and screaming. Birds chirped, and the sound of cars driving slowly around the streets made the place seem charming. I never thought of my hometown as charming before. Not until I walked around it with Brandon Gentry.
Through the park we strolled, then down to Main Street where we looked in the windows of the various shops. “Antiques,” Brandon said. “I’ve never gotten why people want to buy old things.”
“Me, neither. My granny has what she calls her collectibles. They look worn out, yellowing… She’s told me I stand to inherit a good amount of those breakables. I’ve never told her how little interest her aged stuff gives me.”
“Well, I’m not talking about family heirlooms—just stuff that other people held onto for longer than they should have.” He finished off his ice cream and tossed the napkin in a nearby trashcan. “Keep whatever your grandmother has given you, Ella. Take it from someone who’s never known a single grandparent; you’ll want something to remember her by.”
“You have the manor to remember your grandparents by,” I remarked, then took the last bite of my cone.
“Since I never met them, the luxury of remembering them is spent.” He stopped and looked inside the next store window. “Clowns. Who would have a store that only sells clowns?”
“A sadist?” Shivering, I looked at the painted faces in the window. An old woman moved around behind them, scaring the crap out of me. I jerked and screamed, then Brandon took my hand, and off we ran.
We didn’t stop until we made it to the end of the block and down an alley. When we at last stopped running, he didn’t let my hand go. Instead, he held it as we caught our breaths.
The alley was dark and empty; it seemed we were absolutely alone. He ran his free hand through my hair. “Have I told you how pretty you are?”
My heart felt as if it was in my throat as I shook my head. Gulping, I tried hard not to tremble; he shouldn’t know what was happening to me.
“I like it when we get along like this.” His hand squeezed mine. “I like it when you talk to me. I feel like your ally, Ella. Do you feel like we’re friends, too?”
Friends?
Chapter Seventeen
Brandon
What happened to Ella’s good mood? Something warped it. “Can you take me home now?”
“Ella, I asked if you think we can be friends,” I said holding tightly to her hand. “And now you want me to take you home?”
She nodded. “Please.”
Maybe her stomach was acting up? Pulling her along with me, we walked back to the Dairy King parking lot. She yanked her hand out of mine. Okay…
When we got to the car, she tossed the key fob up in air at me as she walked past me. “You drive.”
Not about to argue, I got in the driver’s seat and we drove home in silence. Even the radio was so low the lyrics of any of the songs that came on were inaudible. Finally, I pulled into the garage, and she got out without saying a word.
