Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“No pets?” Grady asked.
Deacon shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about getting a dog, but haven’t yet.”
“I always had dogs growing up. Loved them. I haven’t had any as an adult, though. Guess maybe because I never felt fully settled? I’m not sure.”
“Maybe you’ll end up getting one here,” Deacon said.
“Maybe so.”
“Think you’ll stay?”
“I hope so.” It was true. Part of him already felt settled in Briar County, but he didn’t want to move too quickly.
“Okay, so…you gotta help me out with something.”
Grady cocked a teasing brow. “I gotta, huh? What happens if I don’t want to?”
“Then I might never let you sit on my porch again.”
Grady gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“I sure would. You don’t want to test me.”
They chuckled, ending the playful game when Grady asked, “You gonna tell me, or what?”
“I was considering not letting you into the inner circle, but I guess I will. You’re all right people.” He winked, then frowned, as if the simple action had surprised him. The look slipped off his face as quickly as it had appeared. “I know it’s last minute, but I’m trying to think of a new flavor, something for the holiday or at least for winter, but nothing is coming to me. And if you say peppermint, you’ll for sure never get to sit on my porch again.”
He grinned. “You mean business, I see. No peppermint, huh? Hmm…let me think… Something with marshmallows?”
“I have a few already, but that can work. We’d need a different spin to it.”
“Toasted marshmallow and…brown sugar? Or what about that fruit salad that’s made around the holidays, with the fruit and marshmallows and—what?” Grady asked when Deacon’s forehead wrinkled and he pursed his lips like he’d eaten something sour.
“It’s good!” Grady added. “You put sour cream in it, which I know sounds gross. I don’t even like this shit normally, but it’s good in the salad.”
“You’re trying to get me to make ambrosia ice cream? I think it’s time for you to leave.”
Grady flipped him off. “Okay, fine. No sour-cream, fruit-salad ice cream. When I say it like that, I can see where you’re coming from. You forget, this is new for me.”
“Excuses, excuses.”
Grady rubbed his hands together. Clearly, Deacon was playing hardball. “Give me a minute. I’m going to figure this out, and when I do, you’ll see I’m a pro at ice cream flavors. You’ll probably end up wondering how you ever created a good flavor without me.”
“You just upped the stakes. I’m expecting you to deliver.”
Shit. Now he really had to come up with something good. How in the hell did he do this?
He tossed out a few ideas, which they both immediately vetoed. Deacon mentioned a few as well, but nothing jumped right out at them.
Eventually, they went on to other topics of conversation. It was dark outside, and the rain had stopped, but he couldn’t say how long ago it had. They’d been talking for hours again, only taking a break to get another drink or take a piss.
Grady yawned and looked at his phone. “Shit. It’s ten. I should probably head home. I have to be up early in the morning.”
“Me too.” Deacon stood and stretched. His shirt pulled up, showing a slice of brown skin and a flat, muscular belly.
He had a gorgeous body, but he shouldn’t be thinking about that. Grady made himself ignore it, picking up his plate, and they went inside and put them in the sink.
“Maybe I should get your cell number? Just in case you come up with any good ideas,” Deacon said without looking at him. He busied himself straightening dishes.
“That’s probably smart. I’m telling you, I’m gonna think of something, and you’ll be amazed at my skills.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Deacon said, and they shared another chuckle.
They pulled out their phones and swapped numbers, and Grady had to admit it was nice having a friend in Everett. And it felt good to be close to someone Nathan had loved so much.
He grabbed his flannel, and they said their goodbyes.
He thought about ice cream and their evening during the drive home, then in the shower, and was still thinking about it once he’d climbed into bed. It was almost midnight when he texted: What about something with bourbon?
He didn’t expect a reply, figuring Deacon was already asleep, so when his phone buzzed, he immediately picked it back up from the nightstand.
I’m likin’ where this is going. Bourbon and…
Chocolate? Oh, no, what about caramel? It sounded good to Grady.
Deacon’s reply came back just seconds later. Bourbon with a caramel swirl and chocolate chunks. That’s actually fucking perfect.
Grady smiled. I’m good at this.
Now, don’t go getting too ahead of yourself. But I’ll give you this one. It sounds delicious.
Grady fell asleep with a grin on his face.
Chapter 8
Deacon
A few days had gone by since Grady had come up with the new ice cream flavor. They hadn’t seen each other again, but they’d texted off and on. Deacon had also spent extra time playing around with recipes when he got off his shifts. He hadn’t nailed it yet, but he knew he would soon. Then he’d have to think of a name. Only it didn’t feel right for him to name it himself. This had been Grady’s idea, this man who’d stepped into his life and had become his friend.