The Chocolate Touch (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 8) Read online

  “Must be tiring doing it all,” Chantelle said.

  “It’s a constant state.” Sage laughed. Her smile lit up her face. “Though I think the tiredness is more due to being a mom than anything else. Family life is crazy busy, but Savannah and Braden are the best kids. I wouldn’t change anything.”

  “Not even the hours you have to work?”

  As Sage tilted her head, a satisfied smile graced her lips. “Nope, everything is great. Of course, I wouldn’t complain if I had an extra hour to spend with my husband, but who wouldn’t?”

  Chantelle agreed. “I’d take the extra hour in my day, and I don’t even have a boyfriend or family around.”

  “The more people in your life, the less time you’ll have, but being surrounded by loved ones is worth it. Even when things don’t work out quite as planned.”

  “Portia in the hospital?”

  Sage nodded. “I was hoping my niece would have an easier time, but as long as the little one stays put for another week or two, things should be fine.”

  Chantelle looked forward to having people—family—around her. “Do you need any help back here?”

  “No, thanks.” Sage lowered the heat on the stovetop. “I don’t think I mentioned it on Saturday, but I make all the chocolate. The staff works out front and helps with packaging products.”

  Chantelle had heard that at the tasting, but she’d wanted to confirm the information. “That’s a lot of work for one person.”

  “It’s my way of ensuring quality control.”

  “Does that include the hot chocolate?” Chantelle asked.

  Sage nodded. “Everything we sell, I make.”

  “Well, have fun back here.” That was the final piece of information Chantelle needed, but it wasn’t what she’d hoped to hear for her uncle’s sake. “I’d better get out front and see if York needs help.”

  “Thanks again for filling in for Portia.”

  “Happy to help.” Chantelle walked out into the front and joined York behind the display case. He wore the same uniform as he had on Thursday and Friday, but something about him seemed different this morning. His smile was brighter or maybe the color of his eyes was deeper. Whatever it was, he looked great, more handsome than before.

  “Ready for another day of chocolate?” he asked.

  “Of course.” She only hoped she stopped noticing things about him.

  “Did you do anything fun yesterday?” he asked.

  “I walked to the park, ate at the Main Street Diner, and then worked.”

  “The first two sound like fun. The third, not so much.”

  “Haven’t you heard that saying about loving what you do and it not feeling like work?”

  “Yes, and I love working with computers, but it can still feel like work.”

  She double-checked the plate of samples to make sure a pair of silver tongs were nearby. “You have a point, but writing the review about this place was fun. How was your Sunday?”

  “My sisters and I went to Bozeman. I’d mentioned the gratitude quest, and they wanted to help.”

  A heaviness pressed down on Chantelle’s shoulders. She bent her neck forward, ignoring the unexpected disappointment that he hadn’t needed her help. She tried to shake it off. “That must have been fun.”

  “It was. We’re each doing things for people.” York’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “This morning, Dakota’s delivering cookies and muffins to the staff at the Copper Mountain Animal Hospital, and a cheesecake to Tim, the owner of Paradise Valley Feed Store. Both places have partnered with the animal rescue where she volunteers. Nevada is doing hers later. It’s coming to the end of the term at the university so she has to finish up grading for her class.”

  The only random act of kindness Chantelle had ever done was paying for someone’s coffee order in the drive-thru line. She liked the idea of doing more. “I’d like to join in the gratitude quest.”

  “You would?”

  She nodded. “This is important to you.”

  A beat passed. And another. “It is. Thanks.”

  His gaze held hers. Whatever connection had passed between them before was back and stronger than before.

  Something fluttered in her stomach. A tingle turned into two, and then into more than she could count.

  Look away.

  But she couldn’t.

  The bell on the door jingled.

  York broke eye contact. “Welcome to Copper Mountain Chocolates.”

  Chantelle should be relieved someone had entered the shop when they did, but a part of her was disappointed. Again.

  She forced at smile at the two women entering the store. Both went to the back wall where copper boxes of chocolates were displayed.

  “I’ll help them,” York said. He walked over to the customers.

  Chantelle nodded. She was grateful for the distance.

  Being around York made it hard to think straight. That had never been an issue before with any man she’d dated, and it worried her. Maybe sticking around town after she sent off her report wasn’t the best idea, even if Sage did need the extra help right now. Chantelle couldn’t let anything interfere with her plans, especially a good-looking former air force captain who could turn her into a pile of mush with a simple smile.

  *

  Being just friends sucked.

  Clearing off a table, York forced himself not to look at Chantelle as she rang up a cowboy’s order. This was the second time the guy had been in this morning. Guess the hot chocolate during his first visit hadn’t been enough.

  Chantelle laughed.

  York’s shoulder muscles bunched. He shouldn’t look, but he did.

  The guy was leaning over the counter toward Chantelle. Whatever he was saying had brought a blush to her cheeks.

  It shouldn’t matter, but it did.

  Maybe by the time York carried the dirty dishes to the back, the guy would be gone. He didn’t want to make a scene, but he’d feel the same way if it were Dakota behind the counter.

  He dumped the dishes in the back and went out front.

  The cowboy was still standing there. His order had been paid and he held the bag, but that didn’t stop him from grinning and chatting up Chantelle in his faded jeans, boots, and too-tight T-shirt as if this were a pickup joint.

  “Do you work here every day?” the cowboy asked. Even though this was Montana, he spoke with a Southern twang. Obviously fake.

  Chantelle shook her head. “It just depends on when I’m scheduled.”

  The guy kept staring at her. No blinking. Talk about weird. “You ever go to Grey’s?”

  “I’ve been once,” she said.

  With me, York wanted to say, but he didn’t. He did recognize the help-me-please glance she shot his way.

  He hadn’t wanted to interfere, but now that he had an invitation, he walked behind the counter, stood next to Chantelle, and crossed his arms over his chest.

  The cowboy rocked back on his heels. “I’ll be there tonight if you want to drop by. Tomorrow’s my day off so I can stay up late. All night, even.”

  Way to go with being subtle, bozo.

  York was finished with the clown. “The dishes are ready to be washed.”

  “I’ll get right on that.” She glanced at the cowboy, but her smile looked pasted on, not real. “Have a nice day.”

  “See you at Grey’s,” the cowboy said.

  As Chantelle walked into the back, the cowboy’s gaze zeroed in on her butt. “Now that’s one fine piece of—”

  “Do you need anything else?”

  “Other than her?” The man’s smirk made York’s hands fist. “No.”

  Don’t lose it. This wasn’t a bar. Chantelle wasn’t interested. The guy was a loser.

  Taking a deep breath, York flexed his fingers. “Enjoy your chocolates.”

  The cowboy took one more look toward the back before swaggering out the door.

  “He’s gone,” York said.

  Chantelle walked out. “Thank
goodness. I didn’t think he was going to leave. He was so friendly and funny this morning, but when he came back, the more he said, the more uncomfortable I was.”

  She shivered.

  York touched her arm. Heat radiated from the point of contact and pulsed up his hand.

  “You okay now?” He forced the words from his dry throat.

  She nodded. “I’m going to stay away from Grey’s.”

  “Excellent idea,” he agreed. “Though if you really want to go, I can be your bodyguard.”

  She laughed. “You’ve had the perfect training.”

  “What?”

  “Two younger sisters.”

  He laughed. “Right.”

  Chantelle smiled up at him and sent a bunch of butterflies loose in his gut. “Thank you.”

  “Happy to help.”

  “I know you are, and I’m happy to be the recipient.” Her gaze softened. “It’s only Monday morning, and you’ve accomplished a good deed for your gratitude quest.”

  Emotion clogged his throat. What he’d done had nothing to do with the gratitude quest. He’d been angry and…jealous.

  But no matter how attractive he found Chantelle, he wouldn’t stoop to the cowboy’s level. He’d find a way to deal with his attraction…his desire for her.

  Or drive himself crazy trying.

  *

  Somehow, Chantelle survived working all day with York despite her growing awareness of him. When he’d stepped in to save her from the flirty cowboy, she’d wanted to kiss him.

  Who was she kidding?

  She wanted to kiss him each time she saw him.

  When she’d dropped a pair of silver tongs, they’d both got down on the floor only to find themselves face to face, so close together his breath caressed her cheek. For the second time that day, she thought he might kiss her, but the sound of Sage’s voice had broken whatever spell they’d been under.

  His knight-in-shining-armor save this morning had only deepened her feelings for him. With an exasperated sigh, she plopped onto the bed in her room at the Graff.

  Stop thinking about York Parker.

  The report was waiting to be finished. She wanted to send that off tonight. And would.

  If she could get her thoughts under control.

  Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she went to work—adding details she’d wanted to clarify and proofing the document. Next, she wrote the conclusion.

  Copper Mountain Chocolates has created delicious and highly respectable products that fulfill its niche market in a western tourist town. In addition to her quality chocolate, Sage Carrigan O’Dell has built a welcoming shop with a loyal clientele. The family atmosphere and monthly events draw in customers. Shuttering the shop would be detrimental to the community at large. A merchandising agreement would not make up for the loss of sales that would occur at the shop since that is part of the appeal to customers, both regulars and tourists. The experience of visiting the shop is as much a draw as the products themselves.

  The Criollo Bar stands out among the shop’s offerings and would add another option to Delacroix’s chocolate bars. However, that collection continues to gain market share, so an analysis would be required as to the acquisition cost versus profit estimation.

  Based on my interactions with the staff, Mrs. O’Dell gives no indication of wanting to sell her business. I don’t know how receptive she will be to a purchase offer. She is a hands-on owner who produces all her own products. Employees are not involved in any step of the process or creation of chocolates or hot chocolate. Employees have no access to recipes or knowledge of how products are made. This suggests the lack of a contingency or emergency plan should Mrs. O’Dell become sick or injured. That is the only scenario where I imagine an offer being welcome and/or accepted.

  Although Copper Mountain Chocolates is a successful small batch producer with traditional offerings and fresh spins on old favorites, my recommendation is to not pursue. I believe the time and effort of putting together a purchase agreement would be a waste of Delacroix’s legal and financial resources.

  After saving the document, she slumped against the bed’s headboard. This wasn’t what she’d hoped to write after tasting the delicious chocolate last week, nor was it what her uncle hoped to hear, but she had to be honest. Her research and her gut told her Sage would not be open to selling her recipes and closing Copper Mountain Chocolates, so why should Delacroix Chocolates spend money on the effort? Sure, most people had a price, but Chantelle had a feeling Sage’s would be so high the deal wouldn’t make financial sense.

  There was something else, too.

  Chantelle didn’t want the chocolate shop to go away. She’d only worked a few shifts, and barely knew the staff, but she loved what she’d experienced so far at Copper Mountain Chocolates.

  Each hour she’d spent there had opened her eyes to what making and selling chocolates was all about. She enjoyed the customer interaction and seeing how they decided what to order. The welcoming feel made the shop a homey place to go.

  Not that any of that would matter to Uncle Laurent.

  He would make the final decision, and she hoped she’d given him enough information to do so. One that would be in the best interest of Delacroix Chocolates.

  Her recommendation was only her opinion. Philippe, who dealt with numbers, might disagree with her assessment or be able to come up with a purchase offer that would sway Sage and allow a return on their investment.

  Chantelle tapped send.

  Her evening was now free. She could eat, check out more shops, or see a movie, but staying in her room appealed to her the most.

  A knock sounded. “Concierge.”

  Chantelle opened the door.

  A woman dressed in a blue jacket and skirt handed her a pastel-colored floral gift bag. “This was left for you. If there’s anything I can do for you, Ms. Cummings, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Thanks.” Chantelle carried the bag to the bed. Tucked inside the tissue paper was an envelope. She opened it.

  Thanks for suggesting the Gratitude Quest, Chantelle.

  York

  How sweet of him. She’d never expected to be included.

  Excited, Chantelle removed the pink and yellow sheets of tissue paper, then pulled out a Criollo bar from the chocolate shop. She laughed. He knew what her favorite item was.

  Next came a cellophane bag of cookies from the Copper Mountain Gingerbread and Dessert Factory. They’d peered through the bakery’s window on Saturday but hadn’t had enough time to go inside. The final item was a book—a thick paperback travel guide about France.

  Heat balled at the center of her chest and radiated outward. Whatever weight she’d felt pressing down on her before disappeared. She felt light, as if she were about to float away, and clutched the book to weigh her down.

  An image of York formed in her mind.

  Such a kind and caring man.

  This gift might be a random act of kindness, but York had put thought into each item. She’d never been so…touched.

  She’d told him earlier she wanted to join in the gratitude quest, but she hadn’t thought about it more than that with the report due.

  Now she could.

  She would make something for York, Lesley the bookstore owner, and for Walt. Anyone who thought chocolate should be a food group deserved a little present. Chantelle would also give something to each of the staff at Copper Mountain Chocolates.

  And she knew what one of the items would be. She’d make one of her mother’s chocolate recipes.

  Chantelle tapped her chin. She’d need to find a kitchen to use. Nothing fancy, a stove and counter space. Asking Sage to use the shop to make chocolate like this didn’t feel right. Maybe Dakota wouldn’t mind. Chantelle would ask York.

  But she wouldn’t tell him that some of what she would be making would be his. She smiled. He’d figure that out when he got the rest of his gifts.

  *

  On Wednesday, York unlocked the front
door to Dakota’s house. Behind him, Chantelle held onto grocery bags. Yesterday, she’d asked if she could use the kitchen. He’d said yes without asking his sister. He knew she wouldn’t care.

  He opened the door.

  Fang’s barks filled the air.

  “Someone doesn’t sound happy,” Chantelle said.

  He glanced over his shoulder. She wore a pretty pink cardigan sweater that was buttoned up to the top with a pair of black jeans.

  “Fang wants out of his crate. He’s an older dog. Not too rambunctious, but he’ll need to wind down a little. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  York motioned Chantelle inside. “Let’s get you settled in the kitchen before I release the hound.”

  As she walked past, her vanilla scent made him want to take another sniff.

  “Are your sisters home?” she asked.

  “No.” He closed the front door. Fang’s barks turned to whines. “Dakota is having dinner at Walt’s, and Nevada is out at the Bar V5 with Dustin. The kitchen is all yours.”

  “I appreciate this.”

  She’d said something similar about his gratitude gifts to her. Her smile and sparkling eyes had been the only thank you he needed, then and now. “Not a problem.”

  Inside the house, he pointed to the hallway that led to the kitchen at the back.

  “Why do you need a kitchen?” he asked.

  “I want to make something for my gratitude gifts.”

  She’d told him she was joining in, so he shouldn’t be surprised, but he didn’t understand why she was doing it. She had no connection to Marietta or the people who lived here. “I hope you don’t feel obligated.”

  “I don’t have to do this, but I want to. That’s the point of the gratitude quest. Random acts. No reason required.”

  She had a point.

  “True.” Except for Judge Kingsley. “What are you going to make?”

  Chantelle switched one of the bags she was holding to her other hand. “You’ll see.”

  “Is it a surprise?”

  “Not really. More of a mystery. You like those, right?”

  “I do. Will I get a taste?”

  “Do you want one?” She entered the kitchen.

  “Yes.” He was curious what she might make.