“You have a three-bedroom, too?”
She hesitated for the briefest of moments before she said, “We like having extra room. Beer?”
He nodded and soon he had a bottle of what had become his favorite brand in his hand. He kissed the one that gave it to him.
Casey threw over her shoulder, “I saw that. You two need to behave. I’ve got a cold, barren road of celibacy in front of me and I’m sensitive about it.”
He had a funny feeling she could have as much sex as she wanted if she was willing to do that kind of dance with Seb, but he kept his mouth shut and drank the ice-chilled ale.
When she asked, “What are the rest of the guys doing?”, he gave her only half an answer.
“Rique was on the phone with Fiona when I left. I have a feeling if she doesn’t have anything pressing to do in the lab tonight, he’ll be on with her when I get back.”
“You’re going back?”
He was sitting at the island, Allie beside him, her hand on his thigh.
“I haven’t exactly been invited to stay.”
Her hand moved to cover his zipper and he arched his eyebrows at her.
“Is that an invitation?”
She slid off her seat and stepped between his legs, her arms twined around his neck.
“It is.”
“It looks like you’ll have another roommate at least for the night.”
Casey turned around, bit her lip, and said, “I should have stayed with Dad tonight. Given you some privacy.”
Mateo knew she needed her friend with her, not only because of what she’d left behind but because of who was here, in the flesh, just a street away. He didn’t think Mac would have the right mind-set for any discussion she might want to have about Seb. Or the broken engagement.
“We don’t need much of that, just a closed door. Once behind it, we tend to forget about who’s where.”
Allie kissed him again and mouthed thank you. Then she asked, “Need me to set the table?”
“That would be great.”
The meal was delicious. He hadn’t had a home-cooked meal since Gloucester. Allie had been gone so much over the last two weeks he didn’t even know if she could cook. And it didn’t matter in the least.
Once the dishes were stacked in the dishwasher, Allie grabbed a jacket and his hand. “Come on, Case. Let’s go for a walk. I want to show you and Mateo the town.”
“You go. I’ll be fine here.”
Mateo picked up what he thought might be Casey’s jacket and handed it over, a smile on his face. “And take away the opportunity for me to be out with two beautiful women? Not on your life.”
She shimmied into the cast-off shoes he’d almost tripped over and took the free hand he offered.
It had cooled off, but it was still a vast improvement over what they’d left behind in New England. The center of town was only a fifteen-minute walk away, and as it came into view, he knew why Allie wanted him to see it. Historic buildings lined the street, all painted in pastels, the streets were brick pavers rather than asphalt, a fountain with cascading water sat at its center, and there were pedestrians everywhere.
“Remind you of some place?”
“If there was music blaring in the streets it would.”
It was more contained than Havana, designed as a square, rather than an open street. They strolled passed a pharmacy, a boutique, a couple of restaurants, and an antique store.
Casey pointed. “Mom’s going to love this. I bet she’s already bought and shipped something before the sun sets the first day she gets here.”
When they came to an ice cream parlor, tables with umbrellas and chairs dotting the courtyard outside it, Mateo asked, “Anyone up for some?”
Allie raised her hand. “Me. This is one of my downfalls.”
Casey laughed. “When we were in college, our freezer was filled with several different flavors at all times. If she ran out of room, I’d find our dinner defrosting in the sink.”
He looked at his wife and said, “I didn’t notice anything in ours.”
“I didn’t fill it for me, I filled it for you.”
He’d make sure to pick some up when they got back. He wanted her to have everything she wanted at his place. It might make her feel as if it were hers, as well.
“What’s your favorite?”
“Don’t have one. Come on, let’s go in.”
It had an old-fashioned vibe, with wood paneling and gleaming silver stools. There were tables scattered around the open space, occupied by families with kids, a couple sharing their cones with each other, and an older couple smacking their lips as they ate the creamy goodness with a long silver spoon.
When they got to the front of the line, Allie still hadn’t decided what she was going to order.
“You go ahead. I’m still looking.”
There had to be dozens of flavors to choose from. He wasn’t used to having a variety, so he ordered a plain vanilla cone.
“You’re kidding, right? Vanilla?”
“I have simple tastes, querida.”
Casey laughed. “She thinks cookies and cream and chocolate mint chip are boring.”
Allie huffed. “Everyone orders them. Being in the top ten doesn’t mean they’re interesting.”
Casey ordered a chocolate and peanut butter, and Allie finally settled on a two-scoop cone, one French toast, and the second, moose tracks.
Casey suggested, “Shall we get some to take back with us, in case you have one of your cravings?”
“Good idea. But we better eat these first, otherwise it will be a puddle before we get back. Three quarts will do it, don’t you think?”
He couldn’t help but grin. He’d had no idea she was an ice cream freak.
They sat at a table outside, the canopy of stars overhead a nice backdrop.
As Allie licked her bounty, her eyes closed as if she’d found nirvana, Casey asked, “How is the beginning of
