'So, what's your favourite flavour?'
'Lemon. Crab. Mint. English toffee...'
'Henry!' Jo snorted and shook her head, the bag heavy on her arm. Her house was wonderfully cool after the heat outside. 'Did you rob a shop?'
'I don't like bacon ice cream,' he confessed, holding the kitchen door for her. 'Bacon, yes, and ice cream, doubly so, but not together.'
Jo put the bag on the table. 'Just how many kinds are here?'
'I didn't count.'
'No, you didn't.' She laughed again. 'You're impossible. We can't eat it all!'
He looked first at row upon row of cute bright globes and then at her stomach and did a few mental calculations.
'Detective, you underestimate yourself.'
Jo huffed, but set the table for two.
'Best kind of diet ever,' she said with glee. 'Stop me before I turn into a snow-woman.'
