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

  Zip, the small black foster cat, darted between his legs as if running an obstacle course or trying to trip him. The cat headed toward Chantelle.

  “Watch out for the cat,” York said.

  She glanced down. The cat rubbed against her pant leg. “You are a cutie.”

  “Very cute, but I haven’t decided if Zip has a death wish or is the mastermind of a superhero archenemy.”

  Chantelle emptied her bags onto the table. Two bags of chocolate chips, a carton of cream, a jar of honey, cocoa powder, and something he didn’t recognize. A spice, maybe?

  The names on the bags didn’t match the stores in Marietta. “Where did you go shopping?”

  “Bozeman.” She removed small white boxes stacked inside one another, a mesh sieve, a set of wooden spoons, a large glass measuring cup, a small ice cream scooper, and a roll of parchment paper. “I needed a craft store.”

  “You went to a lot of trouble.”

  She shrugged.

  He picked up one of the bags of chocolate chips. It was bittersweet and the other milk chocolate. “Are you making some kind of chocolate?”

  She nodded once.

  “I’m sure Sage would give you a discount. You don’t have to make something yourself.”

  “I don’t have to, but I want to. I love making chocolates, and I rarely get the chance. Doing this is a real treat.”

  “The Chocolate Touch extends beyond writing about chocolate?”

  “Way beyond. There are a few recipes in the book.”

  His face heated. He hadn’t looked at the book beyond the front and back covers.

  “It’s okay if you didn’t know that.”

  He would look through the book tonight. “What else do you need?”

  “Do you have a saucepan, bowl, and cookie sheet?”

  “Coming right up.” He removed those from the cupboards and placed them on the counter. “Anything else?”

  Chantelle washed her hands. “That’s it. Thanks.”

  “I’m going to get Fang and let him into the backyard. He usually uses the door back here, but I’m going to take him around front to the gate. Otherwise, he’ll be all over you. Be right back.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  York made it as far as the doorway before glancing over his shoulder. “Your sweater is really nice. Do you want to borrow a shirt so it doesn’t get dirty?”

  “I didn’t think about that, but I have a shirt on underneath.” She unbuttoned her sweater. “Thanks, though, I should know how messy chocolate can be.”

  “Which is why we wear aprons at the shop.”

  He was glad Chantelle wasn’t wearing one and covering her pale pink T-shirt that stretched across her chest.

  York tugged at his now-too-tight collar. He was supposed to be doing something, but he couldn’t remember what that was.

  A bark sounded.

  Fang.

  He walked into the living room and grabbed a leash. “Sorry, boy.” York kept his voice low. “I was distracted.”

  Fang’s brown eyes stared up at him.

  “You’ll see when you meet her, but first you’re going to the backyard.”

  The dog’s tail wagged.

  When York returned to the kitchen, a delicious aroma filled the air.

  “Something smells good,” he said.

  She stirred whatever was inside the saucepan. A contented smile was on her face. “I hope it tastes as good.”

  York didn’t care how it tasted. Watching her was enough. The passion in her eyes reminded him of how she looked during the chocolate tasting.

  He leaned against the counter. “You’re enjoying yourself.”

  She nodded. “My mom taught me about chocolate. When I make something, I think about all those times we spent together in the kitchen. The memories are so good.”

  “You should be a chocolatier so you are always making chocolate.”

  A wistful expression crossed her face. “That would be a dream job.”

  “Go for it.”

  Her mouth quirked. “You haven’t tried anything I’ve made.”

  “No, but you have the chocolate touch, right?”

  He expected her to laugh, but her gaze clouded instead. She didn’t say anything.

  “What?” he asked.

  “My book title came from something my mom told me when I was little. She said everyone born into her family has the chocolate touch, including me. I never quite believed it, but I still hope…”

  The vulnerability in her voice made him want to reach out to her. “Believe, Chantelle. When you’re around chocolate or talking about chocolate, there’s something different about you. A passion. Joy.”

  “That’s sweet of you.”

  “Not sweet. True.” York walked to the stove. He was drawn to her in a way he couldn’t explain, but he didn’t care. “Chantelle, I…”

  Her lips parted slightly.

  He brushed his mouth over hers.

  “I know I mentioned being friends, but I have to be honest,” York said. “That’s not enough for me. You’re beautiful, smart, funny, and so many other things. I’ve been fighting this attraction, and it’s a losing battle. I’m ready to surrender.”

  “Me, too. I was ready a couple of days ago.”

  “I just need to make sure no matter what happens with us, it won’t influence or change your feelings about Copper Mountain Chocolates.”

  “It won’t. That’s not how I work. I promise.”

  “Great.” That was what he needed to hear. “What do you want to do now?”

  “Besides kiss?”

  He laughed. “Kissing is a given.”

  She stared up at him through her eyelashes. The battle between the shyness and daring in her gaze was intoxicating.

  “What if we don’t put too much thought into this and just spend time together as long as we’re in Marietta?” she asked.

  Neither of them were in a position for something long term, but he hadn’t expected her to say that. “I’d like that.”

  “Me, too.”

  Her tongue swept across her lower lip in a sexy move that made him lean in to kiss her again. This time, he let his lips linger and enjoyed her sweet taste. His arms went around her to pull her against him.

  She arched to bring herself closer.

  Heat pulsed through him, and an ache grew.

  One kiss would never satisfy his hunger for her. She pressed her mouth against his with the same desire he felt.

  From a spark to a flame to an inferno.

  His hands dug into her hair, the silky strands sifting through his fingers.

  He wanted more…all of her.

  She backed away. “If I don’t stir the cream, it’ll burn.”

  He was burning up himself.

  “Can I take a raincheck on the kisses?” she asked.

  Chantelle didn’t act freaked out or overwhelmed. She looked like a woman who’d been kissed and wanted more.

  He was happy to oblige. “You can have as many rainchecks as you’d like.”

  Her eyes danced. “Then I’d like at least a dozen.”

  York had no idea what he was doing. He didn’t want a relationship. A steady girlfriend was the last thing he needed. If she traveled as much as he did, they’d never be able to see each other. But this woman next to him was special, and he wanted to spend time with her while he had the opportunity. They could figure out the rest, even if that just meant saying goodbye and not looking back when the time came to leave Marietta.

  With a smile, he stepped away from the stove so she’d have more room. “That can be arranged.”

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning, Chantelle stretched in her bed. She hadn’t stopped smiling since spending the evening in Dakota’s kitchen, making chocolates and kissing York. She had no idea what would happen with him, but she was okay with that.

  For now, at least.

  Being with York made her happy. Yes, she could be making a huge mistake by being more than
friends. Her goal was to have a serious, long-term relationship, but she wasn’t in town that long.

  A few kisses and fun times together didn’t mean she and York were compatible or would want to date beyond the next week or two. Why not make the most of the time she had with him? If she remained focused on her goals—moving to France to be closer to her family and working at Delacroix Chocolates–she would be fine.

  Her cell phone rang.

  Was it York?

  She grabbed her phone. A name flashed on the screen. Philippe.

  Oh, well… Chantelle answered the call. “Hello.”

  “Good morning.” Philippe sounded cheery. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “I’m up and ready to start my day.”

  “Are you working at the shop today?”

  “No.” She thought about York’s invitation when he’d said goodnight. “I’m going out to breakfast. After that, I have a radio interview about the book.”

  “You sound happier than usual.”

  She hadn’t expected Philippe to notice, but she was pleased he had.

  “I am.” Chantelle wanted to be upfront with her cousin. That was what family did with one another. At least, she hoped so. “I met someone. We’re meeting for breakfast.”

  “Is he from Marietta?”

  “No. York is just in town visiting his sisters this month. He’s working a few shifts at the chocolate shop. That’s how we got to know each other.”

  “An office romance,” her cousin teased.

  “Sort of.” She hadn’t thought about it like that. “Though a shop romance might be a better description. But I’m sure you didn’t call to hear about my social life.”

  “No, but I like knowing what’s going on with you.”

  That made her smile. Philippe, on the other hand, was easy to keep track of. Her cousin was either at work or asleep. She often wondered if he slept in his office.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “Father and I went over your report.”

  Chantelle gripped the phone tighter.

  “I analyzed our chocolate bars by individual flavor and collection sales as you suggested,” Philippe continued. “Good call on passing. Father has decided to follow your recommendation and not pursue Copper Mountain Chocolates. We don’t need their Criollo bar, though it sounds delicious.”

  She released her breath. “A wise decision.”

  Not only because that was the right decision for Delacroix Chocolates, but also for her Copper Mountain Chocolate coworkers and their customers. Not to mention the town of Marietta.

  “Thanks for giving us the information we needed,” Philippe said. “When will you be returning to Boston?”

  “I’m not sure. My schedule is flexible, but I’ve been thinking of extending my stay.”

  “Is York the reason you want to stay longer?”

  Philippe had remembered York’s name. “We’ve been hanging out, but I’ll be helping at the chocolate shop until their other employee returns from her vacation.”

  “You’re gaining invaluable experience.”

  “I’m learning so much about selling chocolate and customer service,” she admitted. “I’m also loving Marietta. There’s this gratitude thing going on that’s wonderful. People are doing random acts of kindness for others around town. So many are joining in after receiving something or hearing about it. Last night, I made lavender-infused truffles to give away. York said they were as good as what Sage makes. Though he’s biased.”

  “If your truffles are half as good as what you made Father and me when you were here, they must be outstanding.”

  Philippe’s words gave Chantelle a boost of confidence. “Thanks.”

  “It’s true, but you need to believe it.”

  York had said something similar last night, but she was so afraid she wouldn’t fit in with her family in France when she wanted to. Desperately. “I’m trying.”

  “Try harder.” Silence filled the line. “I have a meeting before I head home, and you need to get ready for your breakfast date. Let me know how it goes.”

  “You care?”

  “I do, Chantelle. I know we haven’t spent much time together in person, but I enjoy our conversations. You are family, and the closest thing I have to a sister.”

  Joy overflowed. “Thank you, Philippe. I always wanted a brother.”

  Her dreams seemed to be coming true. Well, all but a happily ever after. She knew York wasn’t her forever love, but she could see him as her prince charming for now. That was better than nothing.

  *

  Having breakfast with Chantelle at the Main Street Diner was the perfect way to start the day. York held her hand across the table. His leg touched hers beneath it.

  She raised her orange juice. “The food is excellent.”

  Not as tasty as her kisses. York smiled as he remembered saying goodnight. “It’s one of my favorites in town.”

  “I’m still partial to Rocco’s.”

  “Another favorite.”

  She stared over the rim of her glass. “You have a few favorites.”

  He shrugged. “Being with you makes them more special.”

  “You have a way with words.” She took another sip.

  “Not words, the truth.” He finished the coffee in his cup. “I found a gift bag with my name on it after you left.”

  If she was trying to keep her face neutral, she was failing. Big time.

  “Oh, really?” she asked.

  “You should have seen what was inside.” He counted off on his fingers. “A pocket map of the US so I can mark off where I travel, a mini flu and cold kit with everything I might need if I get sick on the road, a pamphlet on how to tie a bow, and a box of truffles that look like the ones you made last night. I loved everything. Thank you.”

  Her smile brightened her face. “You’re welcome.”

  “Don’t doubt if you were born with the chocolate touch or not. You were.” He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed the top. “Those truffles were amazing. My sisters loved their boxes of chocolates, too.”

  “I’m glad.”

  He kissed her hand again. “This gratitude quest has turned out even better than I expected.”

  Her gaze locked on his. “I can say the same thing about my trip to Marietta. It’s turned out much differently, been much sweeter, than I expected. Because of you.”

  Her words hit his heart like an arrow. York wanted to spend as much time with her as he could. “How long are you staying in town?”

  “My cousin was asking me that same question this morning since I was supposed to fly home yesterday.”

  “I’m here until the end of the month.”

  “You mentioned that.”

  He still had no idea how this was going to work out, but it was looking good so far. “You should extend your stay for a couple of weeks.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  The server placed a black leather bill folder on the table, and York reached for it. “Thanks.”

  A few minutes later, he walked out of the café with Chantelle. “Do you have anything going on this morning?”

  “A phone interview with a radio station in Boise, Idaho. You?”

  “I need to deliver one of my gratitude gifts this morning.”

  “Who’s this one for?”

  “Judge Kingsley. He lives in that old, rundown house on Bramble Lane.”

  “Excellent choice for your gratitude quest.”

  York thought so, but for different reasons than Chantelle’s. “Dustin told me a few things about the judge. I’ve never met him, but as you said, that’s the whole point of random acts.”

  “You’re the sweetest.” She kissed York’s cheek. “I need to get back to the hotel. Can we meet up later?”

  “I’ll be working this afternoon with Dakota, but I’m free after that.”

  “Text or call me.”

  “I will.” He kissed her on the lips. “Good luck with your interview.”
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  “Have fun making your delivery.”

  York watched her walk down the street toward the direction of her hotel. He hoped she extended her stay until the end of the month.

  Five minutes later, York stood in front of the neglected house that belonged to Judge Kingsley. Overgrown shrubs and large, untrimmed trees hid much of the house. Broken branches lay in the yard of patchy brown grass. Dead plants were everywhere.

  Why would anyone want to live here?

  The place looked decrepit.

  He walked up to the front door with a gift bag in hand. Inside were a box of Copper Mountain Chocolates, a decorated bottle that contained sand from Fiji, a Legal Decisions paperweight, cat toys and treats, and a handheld electronic game.

  Something hissed from behind a bush. That must be the guard cat that Dustin had mentioned. That was why York had picked up a few cat items for the gift bag.

  The hisses turned to growls.

  York wasn’t deterred. He went to the front door and knocked.

  No answer.

  The cat screeched.

  He knocked again.

  “Go away,” a grouchy male voice said from behind the closed door.

  The judge had the reputation of being the meanest man in town, and so far, he was living up to that. York knew better. Like the still-growling cat, the judge’s bark was for show only.

  “Hello,” York said. “I have something for Judge Kingsley. It’s part of a gratitude quest that’s going on around town.”

  “A what?”

  “A gratitude quest,” York repeated. “It’s my way to thank the community for putting on the Valentine Quest.”

  “I had nothing to with that.”

  Sure, he didn’t. York smiled. “That’s fine. It’s not necessary that you were involved. This a random-acts-of-kindness sort of thing. You live in Marietta, so you’re included.”

  The judge harrumphed. “I agree on the random, but I’ve heard something like this has been going on.”

  “It’s catching on with more and more people.”

  The door cracked open. Only an inch, but York would take that.

  “Did you start it?” the judge asked.

  “A friend came up with the idea, and then I ran with it.”

  “Who are you?”

  “York Parker. I was the recipient of the grand prize won by Dustin Decker.”