Jeff said as he spooned another bite of ice cream and fudge into his mouth. “No kidding. It’s a good thing this stuff isn’t easier to make, or by the time Havasu’s swimsuit weather hits, I’d be shopping for a one-piece with one of those little skirts.” Angie laughed then took another bite. The three sat outside under the stars, around the patio table, eating their hot fudge sundaes. Ten minutes earlier, Angie had returned from next door, just after Jeff finished licking the chocolate off Lexi’s finger. Neither Lexi nor Jeff commented on the incident, choosing to outwardly ignore what had just happened. “When I was in college, I figured out how to make it in the microwave. Now, that was quick.” “You need to market this stuff,” Jeff told her. “During my sophomore year of college, I seriously considered the idea. But not the actual fudge sauce. The thought of cooking and canning hot fudge sauce is way beyond my field of expertise or interest. I toyed with the idea of selling the mix, where the buyer could cook single servings in the microwave.
