My Dad's Bestfriend (Evelyn and Jacob) novel Chapter 203

Evelyn

"You know, Evelyn... you're the only woman I've ever met who complains about shopping too much," Jacob chuckled, his deep voice resonating with amusement as we strolled down the pavement hand-in-hand.

I rolled my eyes, but the smile tugging at my lips betrayed me. After a marathon of "extra shopping" we'd stuffed the car's backseat with bags and parked nearby for a walk—because I insisted, of course.

As we wandered through the peaceful evening, enjoying the crisp air and easy conversation, my eyes suddenly caught sight of a street-side ice cream shop. I stopped mid-step, my gaze locking onto the neon-lit counter like a moth to a flame.

Jacob noticed immediately. "You want ice cream?" he asked, already grinning.

"Yes, please!" I chirped, tugging him toward the shop.

When we reached the counter, Jacob, knowing me better than anyone, placed the order without hesitation. "One cookies and cream, please."

"And," I added, "a mint chocolate chip."

He raised a brow at me. "Evelyn, I don't even want ice cream right now."

"No one needs ice cream, silly," I retorted, reaching up to brush his messy hair back. "They want it."

"Well, I don't want it either."

"You think you don't, but you do."

"Evelyn..."

"Your order, sir," the shopkeeper interrupted, handing over two cups before Jacob could argue further.

I grabbed the cups, thrusting his toward him before scooping a spoonful of mine. Anticipation turned to confusion as I frowned at the taste.

"What's wrong?" Jacob asked, his brow furrowing.

"It's... off," I said, my disappointment palpable.

He reached for my cup. "Let me try."

After taking a bite, he shook his head, amused. "Tastes fine to me. Classic cookies and cream."

"Really?" I snatched it back, determined to give it another shot. But no, it still tasted strange. The smell was right, the texture perfect—but my tastebuds were betraying me. What was wrong with me these days?

I sighed in defeat. "Maybe today just isn't my ice cream day."

Jacob offered a sympathetic smile. "Want to try somewhere else? I know a few good spots." He hesitated before holding up his untouched cup. "You could even have mine, but..." His tone turned teasing. "You've always hated mint chocolate chip."

My gaze drifted to his cup. The creamy green swirl suddenly looked... tempting.

"Can I try it?" I asked, surprising even myself.

He blinked. "You want to try mint chocolate chip?"

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "What's wrong with trying new things?"

Amusement danced in his eyes as he handed me his cup. "Here. Let's see this miracle."

The moment the icy sweetness hit my tongue, I froze. It was incredible. A delightful mix of refreshing mint and rich chocolate that made me question every life choice leading to this moment.

"This is amazing!" I exclaimed, diving back in for another spoonful. "Jacob, how did I not know this flavor was so good? I've been trashing it my entire life!"

He ruffled my hair. "Because you're a kid."

"Hey!" I swatted his hand away. "Don't call me a kid."

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss my cheek. "Fine. So, what are you?"

"An adult, obviously!"

That earned a full, hearty laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" I demanded, pouting.

"Nothing," he said, his tone light with mischief as he started walking again. "Apparently, kids think they're adults these days."

"Didn't I just fucking tell you that I am not a kid?!"

"Yes, you are a—" Before Jacob could finish, I scooped up a generous dollop of ice cream and smashed it against his nose.

He froze mid-sentence, his eyes wide with disbelief. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then, unable to hold it in, I burst into laughter. "Oh my God, Jacob! You look horrible!"

"Why are you awake?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder. "I could've sworn you were out cold when I left."

"Without you, the bed feels empty and cold," he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of my ear before trailing soft kisses down my neck. Each touch sparked a fire inside me, flames that threatened to consume me entirely.

"You'd better get used to it," I teased, a chuckle escaping me as I turned around to him and slid my hands around his neck, "I'll have to go back to America, remember?"

He cupped my face with one hand, his thumb brushing against my cheek as his eyes locked on mine. "I won't let you go."

I smiled, leaning in to nuzzle his nose. His scent—earthy and comforting, uniquely his—wrapped around me. He was too good to be true, yet here he was. Real. Mine.

"Dad's given us a strict timeline, Jacob."

"I'll beat him up," he deadpanned, earning a laugh from me.

"And you think I'd stay with you after that?" I challenged.

A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes as he pulled me closer, our bodies flush. His hands rested on my waist, and our lips hovered inches apart. "I know you'd still choose me."

He wasn't wrong—but I wasn't about to admit that. Not tonight.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Adriano, but it's a no."

He chuckled, his lips brushing against mine without fully kissing me, leaving me breathless and wanting. "You're a terrible liar, baby," he murmured. "Your eyes give you away every time."

I had no response. With his body so close, his warmth enveloping me, and his lips teasingly near, all I could think about was kissing him. And he knew it.

"If you know so much," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "why aren't you giving it to me already?"

His smirk deepened. "Because I'm getting used to it," he said, throwing my earlier words back at me. "You're going back to America, right? Strict timeline and all?"

But something shifted inside me then. And I had never been more sure about this as I was right now. So, ready, so certain.

Smiling softly, I traced my thumb over his cheek.

"You know," I began, my voice steady, "I don't have to go back to America if we do one thing..." I tilted my head, watching as realization dawned in his gaze. "How about you make me your bride, Mr. Adriano?"