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“It did.” Scott returned the look.
The teenager behind the counter cleared his throat, his face blazing red. “Are you ready to order?”
Whitney consulted with Beckett over their scoop choices.
I scooted closer to Scott. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to horn in on your celebration.”
“Don’t be stupid. It’s ice cream. And we’re happy to include you. Especially since I get the feeling that you were looking for something to do that would keep you from doing something else.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I was just parking, man.”
“Uh-huh.” Scott shook his head and lowered his voice. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”
My neck burned. Hopefully, I wasn’t as beet red as the kid behind the ice cream counter.
Scott held up both hands. “You’re not going to get any judgment from me. I married the nanny. But I’m going to warn you, if Noah, Wes, and Tristan figure it out before you say something? They’re going to be ticked.”
“There’s nothing going on.” That was one hundred percent true. I could stand behind it.
“Yet?”
I shook my head. “She doesn’t think of me like that.”
“You sure?”
I scowled at Scott. What did he mean was I sure? Of course I was sure. It was incredibly obvious that I was just another of her big brothers.
Before I could retort, Whitney spoke. “You ordering, Scott? Cody?”
“Just think about it.” Scott stepped closer to the counter and pointed. “Single scoop of strawberry cheesecake in a waffle cone.”
Think about it? It was practically all I could think about. Ever. What I needed to do was stop thinking about it. I stared at the ice cream in the case and considered my options. The strawberry cheesecake actually sounded pretty good. It was one of those flavors that, at least in my mind, trended girly, so I wasn’t likely to order it. But if Scott was getting it, he couldn’t give me grief for trying it.
I waited until the teen looked my way, then pointed to Scott. “I’ll have the same as him.”
Whitney and Beckett were already sitting at one of the tiny tables. Beckett had a small bowl of ice cream in front of him.
Scott reached for the waffle cone the teen extended. “Thanks.”
“Go sit. I’ll get this. Consider it my anniversary present.” I reached into my pocket for my wallet.
“You don’t have to—”
“I know that. You know that. I’d like to, though, if it’s okay?”
Scott grinned. “All right. I’ll let you. Thanks. Whit’s got a milkshake coming.”
“I’ll bring it.” I reached for my waffle cone and slid down the counter to where the cash register was.
The teen rang up the order slowly.
“Are you still in school?”
Startled, the teen looked up at me before nodding.
“Did you ever have Mr. Campbell for math?”
The boy grinned. “Sure. He was great. I’m bummed he’s gone this year. And Miss Jones. She’s hot.”
