Page 20 of A Little Bit More

Waaaay better than ice cream.

“Hey!” someone shouted. “None of that in here. You’re freaking out the customers.”

Grunt growled deep in his chest at the interruption.

“We’ll go home as soon as I finish my sundae,” Claire promised against his delicious lips.

With clear reluctance, he returned Claire to her seat.

“You didn’t freak me out,” Shona McBride called from her table in the corner, where she was sitting with Jean, another member of Knit or Die. “In fact, you can do it again, only come closer this time, so we can get a better view.” She giggled like a naughty preschooler.

“Aye.” Jean sounded wistful. “I wish a man would come in here and sweep me off my feet like that.”

The two women glanced hopefully at the door, but no one stepped through it.

“I don’t suppose you’d do an old lady a favor.” Jean batted her eyelashes in Grunt’s direction.

What the heck? Had she just propositioned Samuel? Oh! Claire wasn’t standing for that—even if the woman was old enough to be his mother, possibly grandmother if she’d had kids young.

“Mine!” Claire snapped as she slapped a hand on Grunt’s chest. “Onlymine.”

Jean and Shona rolled their eyes before going back to their ice creams.

A smiling Grunt was shaking his head when she turned back to him.

“The cheek of some people,” she muttered as she dug into her sundae.

Grunt pulled out a pastel green chair and stared at it.

“It’s metal,” Claire said around a mouthful of icy delight. “It’s strong.”

“Hey, giant,” the owner called from behind the counter, his Glaswegian accent thick, “you break it, you buy it.”

Claire shot the owner a look of reprimand that had worked wonders on the kids she’d taught in kindergarten. “This isn’t the city, you know. Up here in the Highlands, we like to be polite to our customers.” She smiled sweetly.

It had no effect. Old Mr. Pelosi wasn’t shamed by her comment. He just snorted and carried on wiping down the counter. Meanwhile, Grunt gingerly lowered himself to the seat. It creaked, groaned, but held.

“See?” Claire smiled at him before turning back to the owner. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

Mr. Pelosi muttered to himself as he disappeared into the back of the shop.

“I much prefer his kids,” Claire said before turning her attention to her husband. “So, you did it? You got a babysitter for our anniversary weekend? Lake agreed?”

“No babysitter, no bodyguard.”

“When do you have to leave for Glasgow?”

“First thing.”

That was her husband: a man of few words. She reached over and patted his cheek. “It’s only a few days, and it will totally be worth it. Just think—you and me, all alone in a hotel room in Paris. I cannot wait!”

He turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm.

“I love you too, baby,” Claire told him before finishing her ice cream.

* * *

“I don’t know what happened,”Josh McInnes said to his wife after he’d hung up on Lake Benson. “But we’re babysitting Grunt and Claire’s kids for a weekend at the end of the month.”