Novel Ice Cream Mesa Novels & Stories

Instead, I turned away and faced Carlos, fighting for every cell in my body to ignore the sexy, possessive man who was watching me from above. “So, have you decided on which ice cream place we are going to go to and what flavor we are going to get?” Carlos smiled. His initial shock had vanished into thin air and his handsome look and warm brown eyes were glowing in the evening sun. "Des Moines Ice Cream Parlor.” What was this boy's problem? "Isn't that the most expensive ice cream einntye city that has over a million different flavours?” He nodded and the grin on his face grew wider and wider. I began to feel that he was only taking me to expensive places to try and impress me.

“Yes, that’s a mall.” “No, houses don’t float.” “I think that’s a radio station.” “No, birds don’t pay rent.” Their laughter filled the car like music. Then— “There!” Maya pointed out the window. “Ice cream team!” I followed her finger and saw a small roadside stand with a bright umbrella and a handwritten ICE CREAM sign. “Can we pleeease?” she begged. I turned toward her instantly. “No ice cream in the morning, Maya.” She pouted dramatically. But before she could protest, Desmond spoke up.

“I want chicken soup.” “Alright." The woman spoke hesitantly. “M-Meazus... Ah, I mean, Mr. Meazus. Can I have dessert? I want something to eat.” “Sure. What would you like?” “Spicy ice cream.” Meazus furrowed his brow. “I never knew there was such a thing as spicy ice cream.” “You don't have to look for it. You just need to buy ice cream and hot sauce. I'll mix it together.”

"But things are okay right now." "Yes, they are." "So why can't we just be happy about that?" "Ice cream!" Maya interrupted, having finished her lunch. "Ice cream now!" "Yes, baby girl. Ice cream now." We ordered Maya a small vanilla cone, and she attacked it with the seriousness of a surgeon. Ice cream ended up on her face, her hands, her shirt, and somehow in her hair. "Messy!" she said cheerfully. "Very messy," Thomas agreed, wiping her face with a napkin.

Joyce questioned with keen interest. "Yeah...I can't say much. You guys need to see things for yourself," Michelle replied. "Are we almost there yet?" I asked Miguel, who had recently started glancing at the GPS location. He nodded curtly. "Yeah. We're here already." True to Michelle's words, the park had a good view. Couples could be seen holding hands as they walked along the lane. "Wow, there's an ice cream stand," Joyce screamed in excitement. "Not just that," Michelle said. "They have a lot of centers for games and where they sell what I think is the best steak I've ever tasted. You guys need to try it out."

I slowed without realizing it. “What?” she asked, catching the shift. I nodded toward a small, newly opened stall wedged between two established shops. It was impossible to miss—bright signage, a crowd hovering curiously, and a menu that looked… experimental. “They’re selling fried mochi cones,” I said, reading aloud. “Stuffed with ice cream. And topped with… chili flakes?” Natalie squinted. “That should be illegal.” “I’m feeling adventurous today,” I said, surprising myself. “Why don’t we give it a try?”

Maverick’s expression is careful, guarded, but he doesn’t pull away. “Wait… really?” Makayla asks, her voice high and sweet. “You’ll give us free ice cream?” "Absolutely," I say, motioning toward the menu board. "You two look like you’ve had a long morning. What flavors do you like?" They approach slowly, eyeing me curiously but not suspiciously. "I like strawberry!" Makayla chirps. "Chocolate for me," Maverick adds with slightly narrowed eyes. I quickly start preparing their cones, pretending my hands aren’t shaking slightly. The machine sputters a little, but I manage to get perfect swirls on both cones before handing them over.

Kill me now, this is going to be tedious and take forever. Walking back to our apartments, Maisey pipes up, “That assignment is going to suck wide. Wanna order Chinese take out? My treat.” “Sure sounds good. I have a case of coke in the refrigerator and a half gallon of blueberry cheesecake ice cream in the freezer,” I replied.

"Shall we go in already?" She could see Sebastian taking a relieved sigh before nodding and getting out of the car. When they stood at the counter, the lady who was supposed to take orders was gawking at them. "The place is famous for shaved ice cream. Try this one, that's my favorite." He pointed at the board. "Alright, what flavor?" She asked. "It's condensed milk." My eyes lit up. "Condensed milk?" I smiled. "You like it?" "I love condensed milk."

"And why do you even read children's storybooks by the way?" She grins very widely. "They're mighty fun. Oh, look over there! That's an ice cream shop! The ice cream shop!" Leigh turns off the engine of Selena's car after managing to find a packing spot and we take a short walk from there to the front door of the building that has 'Fran Tate's Ice Cream Parlor' spelled out in bold yellow letters across the store front sign. We open the glass doors to find a handful of people scattered around the L-shaped bar that took up most of the space, two families, a group of elderly women and a pair of girls taking a selfie in some of the booths along the window, and a shop so colorful it makes me crav