A Matter of Trust: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

Chloë gulped.

“Shall we?” Morgan said, gesturing toward the shop.

Inside the ice cream shop, they were greeted by a cute young woman with blue hair and two nose piercings. Her name tag said Jenna and she donned a face mask as her customers approached the counter. Chloë was amused to notice how the young woman scoped out both her and Morgan appraisingly as they walked in.

Chloë walked up to the display counter, which showcased all the flavors of ice cream in tubs on one side and a large variety of candies, fruits and nuts to mix into the ice cream on the other. Most were obvious choices: chocolate chips, strawberries, every candy bar imaginable, peanuts…But Chloë was confused by the gumballs. Who on earth would mix bubblegum into their ice cream?

“Okay, I know what I want,” she declared. She looked up at Jenna. “I will have two scoops of the sweet cream with Kit-Kats and marshmallows mixed in.”

Standing next to her, Morgan tsk-ed.

“What’s the problem?” Chloë asked.

“Youth is truly wasted on the young,” Morgan said regretfully, shaking her head. She looked at Chloë. “First of all, marshmallows are mostly air. Secondly, only two mix-ins? Do you have, like, a note from your doctor or something? Let me show you how this is done, Miss Marchand.”

Morgan looked at Jenna.

“I will have three scoops of the amaretto ice cream with Milky Way, chocolate chips and caramel sauce mixed in.”

“Fine, you win the calorie wars,” Chloë conceded with a roll of her eyes.

“Did you ladies want your ice cream in cups or cones?” Jenna inquired.

“Cup for me,” Chloë said.

“Me too,” Morgan added.

“Aaand, is this separate or together?” Jenna asked, as she raked Chloë’s body with her eyes.

“Together,” Morgan stated and Chloë’s clit pulsed at the directness of Morgan’s voice, at the teacher-like quality of it, at the way it forced Jenna to stop checking her out so blatantly.

“You two are a cute couple,” Jenna said after a moment, obviously fishing, while preparing their desserts.

“Aren’t we, though?” Morgan said in a bored tone, casually pretending to examine the variety of ice cream flavors in the display counter.

Chloë looked at Jenna, grinned and shrugged. Meanwhile, her heart was racing far more than it normally did while fully dressed.

Desserts in hand, Morgan suggested they walk down towards the beach and then along the seawall, which was only just down the street.

“It’s a nice night, after all,” she added. “Besides, winning the calorie wars is a kind of Pyrrhic victory, don’t you think? I’d like to at least burn off a handful of them with a stroll.”

“Love it,” Chloë said.

The early March night was cool but not terribly cold, although Chloë could feel her internal temperature drop a bit after a couple of bites of her ice cream. Clouds in the sky prevented the full moon from shining, which meant the ocean was more heard than seen as they went down to the seawall and started walking south.

“So, what was that about in the shop?” Chloë asked.

“What was what about?” Morgan inquired.

“Her mistaking us for a couple and you just rolling with it?”

Morgan sighed.

“Sorry, old habit,” she pronounced. “I’ve always gotten annoyed whenever I’m on a date with a man and other women blatantly check him out right in front of me; like I’m not even there. Well, I guess I felt the same thing being out with you. I mean, I walk into an ice cream shop with a beautiful woman—which kind of looks like a date!—and so why would the girl behind the counter think it’s alright to start undressing you with her eyes right in front of me? Why would she assume I’d be okay with that?”

Chloë laughed, marveling at the turn her night had taken: from having absolutely no plans other than boring studying, to meeting the Morgan Banks for ice cream, to then learning that the Morgan Banks had gotten pissed off at Jenna for checking out her “date” right in front of her.

If only…