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“What’s your favorite flavor?” I asked, opening the door to The Creamery, just a few blocks down from Aggie’s, and gesturing for her to enter in front of me.
She shook her head. “I don’t have one. Every time I look into the ice cream case I see all those beautiful colors and it reminds me of my painter’s pallet. A painting done in only one color would pale in comparison to others. Ice cream is the same. I have to love all the flavors or none at all.”
I laughed, enjoying the glimpse into the way she saw the world through her artistic eye. “Sounds like a pretty big bowl of ice cream to me. Maybe I should’ve brought more money.”
Elbowing me in the ribs, she laughed. “I don’t eat them all at once, dork.”
“Dork?” Eyes widening, I stared at her. “Did you just call me a blue whale penis?”
Snorting, she laughed harder, lightly slapping my shoulder. “Stop it. You know that’s not what I meant.”
Grinning, I shrugged, understanding enough to know that the word dork was obviously common slang. “I was going to take it as a compliment. I mean, I am big . . . I’m just not that big.”
Face flushing red, she raised a hand over her gaping mouth. “Oh my gosh! I can’t believe you just went there.”
“You were the one that went there, not me. I was just clarifying,” I teased.
A woman wearing a store apron stepped up to the ice cream case. “Can I help you?” she asked politely.
“Yes. My friend here would like something big and blue that she can lick,” I said, smiling widely.
“Oh dear heaven above,” Skylar murmured behind her hand, her face turning the color of her hair as her whole body shook with silent mirth.
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