Laura's Solo Honeymoon - The Ice Cream Shop Boy #1 (Erotic Romance) (7 page)

Shawn, the ice cream shop boy, said I “woke him up,” and I would say he did the same for me.

I returned to Columbus, Ohio, a changed woman, and not just because my total lifetime number of orgasms had doubled, thanks to him.

Walking back into the empty apartment in Short North, the one I had once shared with Lars, my former fiance, I felt decidedly neutral. The two-bedroom place held old memories, both welcome and unwelcome, but it also held potential. A coat of paint might be the solution.

“Welcome to your new home,” I said to Princess. She ran in, her toenails tapping on the hardwood floor, and set about sniffing every corner. Her fluffy little gray tail went still when she found interesting smells, and whipped happily when I spoke to her, giving verbal encouragement.

Shawn had adopted her as a rescue dog, and while she had Pekinese aspects, she was no purebred. She was simply Princess.

I said to her, “If you're Princess,” she wagged her tail so fast, dust bunnies moved behind her, “I guess that makes me the Queen?”

She trotted around me, fascinated by my unpacking, and then by my dinner preparations.

As I ate my dinner and she ate hers, I talked to her about Shawn, referring to him as “your daddy.” We agreed that he was a nice young man, and we both missed him. Princess wasn't sure what it meant that he hadn't sent us a text message. I'd sent him one as soon as I'd landed at Port Columbus International Airport, but there'd been no reply.

“I guess it was just a fling,” I said. “Sometimes flings are nice. Not everything is forever.” She jumped into my lap and nudged my hands. “Except for me and you. I won't let you go, and you'll be mine forever. I promise.” She gazed up at me. “Til death do us part.”

She settled in for a snooze, and I spent the next hour alternating between staring at my cell phone and the enormous flat-screen on the wall, fast-forwarding through the recorded shows I had no interest in watching.

At ten o'clock, we went out for the last pee and walk of the night, along with the silent brigade of other dog owners in the neighborhood. I wouldn't typically walk around at that time on a Sunday night, and was surprised by how many of us there were … and how many were attractive men.

I spent ten minutes discussing what breed Princess might be with a very hunky man sporting dreadlocks, before I realized he wore a gold wedding band. I couldn't tell if he'd been flirting with me, or with Princess, and his Golden Lab was quite forward as well. Either way, my pooch and I both enjoyed the attention.

We were crossing a grassy meridian when Princess surprised me by taking one more dookie than I had plastic baggies for. I waved at a woman walking a French Bulldog, hoping she'd have a spare, but she didn't seem to notice me.

I was considering a dookie-and-dash when a man was suddenly in my face, handing me a baggie. As he stood upwind of me, I got a sniff of his cologne. He smelled like how handsome looks, and he was equally cute.

“It's an amazing equation,” he said, nodding at Princess. “How they seem to put out even more than you feed them.”

I accepted the bag and took care of the business, thanking him. “This is Princess,” I said, instantly regretting not renaming her a better name—or
any
other name, really.

He laughed. “Princess, meet Duke.”

Duke was a spotted dog with a black patch ringing one of his gorgeous blue eyes. He looked like an Australian Cattle Dog, but much smaller. Tongue lolling out, he seemed like a mellow guy. Duke's human companion also had pale blue eyes, and dark hair, cut very short all over. This yummy-smelling man had a square jaw, full lips, and a proud nose with a bump on the bridge. He wasn't just real-life-cute, but more like movie-star-cute, and I struggled to find words in the presence of such cuteness.

“I'm Laura,” I finally managed. “How old is Duke?”

As the two dogs sniffed each other in a friendly manner, both of them with their ears friendly and attentive, the man said, “I wouldn't know. I picked him up just the other day to help me meet women.” He had a bit of a foreign accent, a different cadence from most Columbusites.

I turned and started to walk away, perplexed by his forwardness and not in the mood to be hit on so boldly.

“He's seven years old,” the man said, taking big steps to catch up with me. “I've had him since he was a pup, and I was kidding about picking up women.”

“That's fine,” I said, picking up my pace. I'd walk up to the corner store and lose this creep there, so he wouldn't know what building I lived in.

“I'm Zach.” He reached his hand toward me.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, nodding, but not taking his hand. He kept walking alongside me, not taking the hint.

As we reached the end of the darkened block, he said, “Are you a Buckeyes fan? I understand it's critically important for me to be a Buckeyes fan if I'm to fit in here.”

“I guess,” I said.

His dog stopped to sniff a mailbox, and Zach stopped as well. I kept on going, taking my opportunity to ditch him.

I felt better once I put some distance between us.

What's that saying?
When it rains it pours.
Men never used to hit on me when I was engaged to Lars, and now, men were being drawn to me like hornets to a barbecue. The man who'd sat next to me on the airplane had tried to give me a neck massage, and the cab driver who drove me from the airport offered to set me up with his cousin ...

continued in The Ice Cream Shop Boy #2 - available now, 

along with #3, the third romantic novelette in the series

Note: each story in this series is a little longer and more romantic than the previous one.