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

  Portia pressed her lips together. Her eyes darkened with a mix of fear and nerves that made York want to do something—anything—to bring back his sister and the young woman’s smiles.

  “Could we wait to find out what’s going on before we call anyone?” Portia asked.

  Dakota smiled. “Of course.”

  “What can I do?” York asked.

  “Stay here,” Dakota said. “I’ll call you once I know more. I know this is your first day, but—”

  “Go.” He knew Portia needed people she knew with her. Of the four people in the shop, that was Dakota and Eli. “I can muddle my way through if I don’t know something.”

  Chantelle took a step forward. “I can stick around if that would help. I don’t know how you run things here, but I know chocolate.”

  Relief flashed across Dakota’s face. “That would be great. Thanks.”

  “I’ll get your stuff.” York bolted into the back and grabbed everything out of their cubbies. That included purses, jackets, and phones. He ran back into the store area and handed them over to Dakota. “Here you go.”

  Eli was helping Portia to her feet. “I can carry you.”

  “It’s not that far,” Portia said. “I’d rather walk.”

  “Then let’s go.” Eli seemed to be in a hurry.

  That worried York because the cowboy was the only one who had experience with pregnant women. Did Eli know something everyone else didn’t?

  Portia took a step while Eli supported her.

  “Everything will be fine,” the cowboy said.

  “Fine,” Portia repeated.

  The bell jingled when Dakota opened the door for them, and as quickly as the excitement began, it was over. The shop was quiet, and York was there with Chantelle.

  Alone.

  She blew out a breath. “Wow. Never had that happen at a chocolate shop before.”

  “I’ve never had that happen anywhere before.” Not even on base with coworkers who had been pregnant. A heavy weight pressed down on him. He glanced out the front window to see Eli’s pickup driving off. “I hope Portia’s okay.”

  “She seems very nice.”

  Today was the first time York had met her, but… “She is.”

  If he stood here doing nothing, he was going to go crazy. He looked around the shop, spotting a cup and a crumpled-up napkin on one of the tables. He made a beeline to where Eli had sat and cleaned the area. Now York had to find a few more things to do.

  Although he was concerned about Portia and her baby, he was also worried about being alone with Chantelle. He had a feeling he would screw up if he tried to talk to her again because all he could think about was where he wanted to take her for dinner…and dessert.

  *

  Standing next to the display case, Chantelle watched York clear the table without a wasted motion or word. He seemed…stressed. Not only that, but he scrubbed as if a contagion on the tabletop could wipe out mankind if he didn’t eradicate it first.

  Worried, trying to keep busy, or a combination of the two?

  She understood why he needed to keep himself busy because she couldn’t stop thinking about Portia, either. Chantelle hoped the young woman and her baby were okay. Like York, Chantelle needed to do something other than stand here.

  “York,” she said finally.

  He stopped wiping and glanced her way. He seemed to have forgotten she was there. “Chantelle. Sorry. I…wasn’t expecting this to happen. Dakota seemed worried, Portia looked scared, and I’m not sure what I should be doing.”

  His honest words matched how Chantelle was feeling. The urge to reach out to him was strong, but the distance between them kept her from doing that. “Same here.”

  “It’s my first day.”

  “One you won’t forget.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  His smile returned full force and hit her like an unexpected gale. She took a step back. Swallowed. Might have been better for her if he continued to be wigged out, but she really liked that smile of his.

  “I’m happy you’re here,” he added.

  “Me, too.” And she was. Because of him.

  Helping was something her parents had taught her to do. She’d grown up being taught the importance of lending a hand if she could. Yet, more was at play here. York Parker intrigued her, even if she knew better than to feel that way.

  And she did know better.

  But some things—like a second piece of chocolate—weren’t that bad for a person. She hoped that was the case with York.

  “Should I put on an apron and stand behind the counter?” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah. That would be good.”

  He wiped the table again. If he kept that up, his next job would be to refinish the wood.

  “Where are the aprons?” she asked.

  He straightened. “In the back. Sorry. I keep thinking about…”

  “Me, too.”

  His gaze met hers, and he straightened. “There are clean aprons hanging by the cubbies. You can leave your purse and jacket inside one of them.”

  “Will do.”

  “The restroom is back there, too. Wouldn’t want you to have to wander around to find it.”

  The amusement in his voice reminded her of two nights ago. He’d remembered what had happened at the bookstore. She hadn’t forgotten one second of their encounter.

  She walked toward a door she assumed led to the back as it was where Sage and Dakota had disappeared into during the tasting last night.

  Chantelle stepped into a small chocolate factory complete with an industrial-grade stove and roaster.

  This was where the magic happened…

  A rush of excitement flowed through her.

  When she was younger, her mother had told her chocolate makers were magicians who used magic to create the most wonderful things to eat. After touring the Delacroix chocolate laboratory in Bayonne with her uncle, she knew her mother was correct. Seeing all the people working together, and the traditions created by her grandfather, had made the factory feel like home and the employees extended family.

  Definitely magic.

  But it wasn’t as simple as waving a magic wand, saying abracadabra, and pulling a piece of chocolate out of a hat. Each chocolatier had their own process, but the steps were similar. Cacao beans had to be roasted, cracked, and the nibs heated to remove the husk. But those were only a few of the steps. The process took days for chocolatiers like Sage to complete, but the results were worth the time and effort.

  Quality over quantity.

  The smells were sharper than out in the retail section. No doubt because the ingredients were stored here.

  Inhaling, Chantelle captured the scents of cinnamon and vanilla bean. A hint of chili powder, too.

  A potpourri of chocolatey goodness.

  Excitement shot to her fingertips.

  Her dad had once joked that chocolate ran through Delacroix veins. That seemed to be the case with her mother and uncle. Would it be true for her and her cousin?

  The cubbies York had mentioned were against a wall. She placed her jacket and purse inside one. A wallet and phone filled another. It had to be York’s stuff. The rest were empty. As he’d said, the aprons were hanging right there, so she grabbed one.

  After another glance around the mini-factory, she grinned. A satisfied feeling settled over her. The urge to take a photo or two for her report was strong, but she couldn’t without permission. Chocolatiers guarded their processes and recipes like state secrets.

  Nothing in Chantelle’s reports would be considered confidential. Much of her research was done online prior to her visit. She then formed opinions based on what she saw, tasted, and the answers given to her questions. Once she decided, she gave a buy-or-pass recommendation to her uncle.

  Still, she couldn’t believe her luck. Not only did she get to see a different side of Copper Mountain Chocolates, but she also had the chance to view the retail side of a chocolate shop from the other side of the
counter. Getting customer-service experience was one of the steps on her uncle’s list.

  She couldn’t wait. One afternoon helping in a shop wouldn’t count as enough experience, but it was a start.

  After she tied the apron strings behind her back, she walked out to the front.

  York stirred a copper pot on the burner. “Your hot chocolate is cold.”

  Chantelle had forgotten about it. “No problem. I’m sure there are rules about eating and drinking while working.”

  “There are. You’re welcome to keep a drink or water bottle in your cubby for when you get thirsty.”

  “I’m fine, and hot chocolate isn’t something to leave sitting out like that. I’ll come back tomorrow for another.”

  He looked over his shoulder at her, a corner of his mouth turning up higher than the other in a charmingly lopsided grin. “On me for helping out today.”

  That must mean he planned to be here tomorrow. “Sounds good.”

  He set the spoon on a holder and faced her. “Least I can do for you. The selling part hasn’t been difficult, other than figuring out how to do more than a couple of things at once, but I don’t know enough about chocolate to answer questions. Some customers are total foodies.”

  “Or chocolate lovers.”

  People passed in front of the large window that contained a springtime chocolate display, but no one was slowing down or stopping. That meant the shop might stay empty for a few more minutes.

  “No one’s in here, so stand in front of the case like a customer would and study the labels. I’ll quiz you later,” she suggested.

  “Is that how you learned?”

  “I learned the names of chocolates by making them with my mother, but this will work in a pinch.”

  “Your mother makes chocolates?”

  “She did.” Chantelle felt a pang, but not as intense as it had once been. “She died. It was a long time ago.”

  He touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  His hand was large. Heat flowed through the fabric of her shirt to the skin below. That was unexpected.

  “Thanks.” There wasn’t anything else she could say.

  He lowered his arm, and she immediately missed his warmth. She wasn’t used to comforting touches. She missed that. Hugs, too.

  She picked up the spoon from the holder. “I’ll stir the hot chocolate. If a customer enters, come back here as fast as you can.”

  He looked like he wanted to laugh.

  “What?” she asked.

  He studied her, but she had no idea why. “Nothing.”

  “Start memorizing.”

  “Will do.” He walked around the counter. “Almost forgot. If you hear the bell jingle, say…”

  “Welcome to Copper Mountain Chocolates,” Chantelle replied with her brightest smile. “This isn’t my first time at the rodeo, cowboy.”

  “No, it’s your second.” Gratitude filled his eyes. “Thanks for sticking around to help me today. This store’s customers deserve better than me.”

  The sincerity in his voice made her heart bump.

  Not only was he attractive, but he was also sweet and responsible.

  Questions formed in her mind, but she couldn’t ask him anything personal no matter how much she wanted to know the answer.

  Be professional.

  That would be expected of her at Delacroix Chocolates. Being at Copper Mountain Chocolates today was no different. She couldn’t embarrass herself by letting a handsome face and killer body get to her again.

  She pushed back her shoulders. “I don’t see you studying yet.”

  “You’re as bad as my sisters.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Hot chocolate simmered in a copper pot. The scents of vanilla and cinnamon rose from the mixture. She couldn’t wait to taste a full cup tomorrow.

  The bell on the door jingled.

  “Welcome to…” The words Delacroix Chocolates almost came out, but she swallowed them back. “Copper Mountain Chocolates.”

  York hurried to her side of the counter. He wiped his hands on the front of his apron, and then did it again.

  Sweaty palms? Even if not, Chantelle thought the action was cute.

  A tall, elegant blonde dressed in a thigh-length sweater, which was belted at the hips, leggings, and knee-high boots closed the door behind her.

  Maybe York was nervous for another reason. A funny feeling settled in the pit of Chantelle’s stomach. She had no right to be bothered by the thought of him with someone else, but she kind of was.

  What was up with that?

  The customer looked over at the display counter. Her gaze narrowed. “Who are you two?”

  The woman’s tone wasn’t rude. It was more surprised, but the question startled Chantelle. She had visited chocolate shops, never worked in one, but maybe customers didn’t worry about filters when they spoke to cashiers.

  “I’m York Parker, Dakota’s brother.”

  The woman’s glossed lips formed a perfect O.

  “This is Chantelle. We’re helping out today.” York put on a plastic glove, picked up a pair of silver tongs, and raised a white plate full of chocolate. “Would you like to try today’s sample? It’s dark chocolate hazelnut bark.”

  The woman hesitated.

  “It’s fresh. Sage made the batch this morning,” he added.

  “Sure.” That seemed to sway the woman. “I’ll have a piece.”

  As she took her sample, Chantelle noticed the woman’s smooth skin and nicely manicured nails. The pink pearly polish was perfect for a hand model.

  “I’d also like a Criollo bar, two chocolate buttercreams, and three champagne truffles,” the woman said.

  “I’ll get those for you.” Chantelle picked up a small box and glanced at York, who nodded.

  Interesting. They made a good team. At least with this first customer.

  Chantelle filled the box with the selected chocolates.

  “I’m DeeDee Cash. I’ve been back in Marietta since last month, but I haven’t seen either of you around.”

  “Nice to meet you, DeeDee. I’m staying with my sisters for a few weeks.” York rang up the order. “Chantelle is passing through town, but the shop wanted to take advantage of her chocolate expertise today.”

  Very smooth, Mr. Parker. Chantelle smiled at him and the customer.

  “Where is everyone else?” DeeDee asked.

  “They’re out right now.” Without missing a beat, York told DeeDee the amount she owed and took her credit card. “If you’d like another sample, we won’t tell.”

  The guy might not know chocolate, but he was a pro at talking to customers. Not everyone had that gift. Chantelle was impressed.

  “No, but thanks. What I bought will be more than enough,” DeeDee said.

  Chantelle closed the box and placed it inside a bag. She noticed the spool of ribbon and a pair of scissors, so she cut off a piece and tied a bow around the bag’s handles. That was what Delacroix Chocolates and most other shops she’d visited did, so she assumed that was why the ribbon was there.

  She handed the bag to DeeDee. “Enjoy your chocolates.”

  As soon as the woman left the shop, York blew out a breath. “I had no idea how to answer her question about the rest of the staff. Dakota warned me that many people in town are nosy, so I didn’t feel right mentioning Portia in case her family doesn’t know she’s at the hospital yet.”

  Chantelle patted his arm. The muscles were firm beneath her fingers. She remembered that from when she’d stumbled into him. “You did well. DeeDee didn’t question it at all.”

  “Good. Thanks.”

  His charming smile sent tingles shooting all the way to Chantelle’s toes. The reason, however, made her feel childish. He hadn’t smiled like that at DeeDee.

  He pointed to the ribbon. “You’re in charge of bow tying. I’m all thumbs.”

  “My hands are smaller.” Speaking of which, hers was still on his arm. She pulled her ar
m to her side. “And I have more experience.”

  “Not only are you an expert on chocolate, but also you tie bows.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well, your bows look great. Mine are nothing but tangled ribbon.”

  She wouldn’t mind tangling her fingers in his hair to see if it was soft. On second thought, bad idea.

  She stepped away from him. “How’s the studying going?”

  “I’ve got the salted caramels down.”

  “Caramels, huh?” She knew the sea salt and shape were dead giveaways, but… “Isn’t that the one you knew at the book signing?”

  He bit his lower lip. “Yes.”

  York’s mouth slanted in the most adorable expression. One more geeky than hot. All he needed were thick plastic glasses to complete the image.

  She loved the unexpected change. Still attractive, but he looked more like a nerdy computer guy now instead of some hunky, action-hero type. Approachable, not trouble to avoid.

  She pointed to the chocolates in the display case. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Oh, right. Better get memorizing. Especially if there’s going to be a quiz.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. Learn the bottom row of chocolates today and the top row tomorrow.”

  He winked. “You want another reason to come back tomorrow.”

  Heat rushed up her neck because that was exactly what she wanted. She breathed in as if that could stop the flush from reaching her face.

  “The hot chocolate is so good you don’t need an excuse to drop by,” he added.

  Relief made her tense shoulders loosen. She’d forgotten all about the hot chocolate. “Good to know.”

  Except he was the reason she wanted to come back. Yes, he was good looking and she couldn’t calm the butterflies in her stomach when he was around, but he also made her smile. Something she didn’t do much of these days when she was alone. She was too focused on impressing Uncle Laurent. Fun had taken a backseat to her pseudo-apprenticeship.

  The bell on the door jingled.

  “Welcome to Copper Mountain Chocolates,” York said before she could. As he joined her behind the counter, he winked.

  Their new customer—an older woman—peered at the chocolates. She looked up. “You two are new.”