Serena quickened her pace as she approached the crowd milling around the chocolate shop’s front doors. She shrugged off the disappointment that had encroached on her excitement as she and Ritchie had talked. All his helpfulness, all his getting on with life in Rabbits Leap couldn’t hide the fact that quintessentially he just didn’t understand what she needed from him. That it wasn’t what he did that mattered to her, that it was who he was. And despite outward appearances of trying to change, he was still a man who refused to speak his truth. Refused to tell her any kind of truth.
‘Serena, darling. I see you’re a bit down.’ Miss Millie, the town’s psychic was at the head of the line. Her customary bird-themed hat, today an Emperor penguin, bobbed in Serena’s direction. ‘You know what will fix that? Chocolate. So, open up. Let’s get things rolling.’
Serena allowed herself to be embraced in a half-hug as Miss Millie swung her arm around Serena’s shoulder, and brought her close. ‘And if chocolate won’t fix things, Christmas is certain to,’ she whispered into her ear, before releasing her. ‘Unlock the door, dear. There’s a good girl.’
Serena fished in her bag for her key, then slotted it into the lock. She tipped her head back and took a moment to watch the sign above lazily swing in the breeze. The Sweetest Thing was about to open. Nothing and no one could stop her now.
She unlocked the door, pushed it open, stepped inside and welcomed her first customers with a sweep of her arm. ‘Come in. There are samples on the counter to try. If you’ve any questions feel free to ask. I can mix and match chocolates if you’d like to try a mixture, and gift wrapping is available.’
Pride warmed her body as people filed in. Their Oohs, Aahs and Mmm’s of appreciation built up her confidence, telling her she’d made the right decision. Coming home, creating a life here, was the best decision she could have made.
‘Serena?’ Miss Millie touched her elbow. ‘I’ll take two boxes of the dark chocolate-dipped Candied Orange Peel, please. Absolutely delicious. Wherever did you get the idea from?’
‘I’d have thought you’d know that, Miss Millie,’ Serena teased as she rang up the purchase.
‘Perhaps I do. Perhaps I just want to hear what you have to say?’ Miss Millie passed her the money.
‘It’s not one of my original recipes, others do it too, but I felt compelled to make them because it reminds me of…’ Serena bit her lip. She was about to say it reminded her of home. Of Malibu. Of the oranges, sweet and tart and juicy, that she and Ritchie had gorged on when they’d first arrived, while sitting on the sandy beach watching the surf roll in. The chocolate was representative of the decadence she’d experienced living there. But Malibu wasn’t home now, and never would be again.
‘It reminds you of happy times.’ Miss Millie picked up the boxes and tucked them in the crook of her arm. ‘And as long as you keep making them you’ll have that happy memory. Not that I think you’ll need it for much longer.’ A secretive smile played on her lips. ‘And even when you don’t need to make that particular memory for you anymore, keep making these for me. I shall buy a box or two every week.’
‘Thanks, Miss Millie.’ Serena waved her goodbye. Unease stirred in her stomach, threatening to settle. She shooed it away. There was no time for pondering the psychic’s mysterious words. She had people in the store. Lots of them. This was the moment she needed to commit to memory: the moment her dreams, her plans, her life fully came into fruition.
She assumed a welcoming smile and greeted her next customer.
***
Serena checked the time on her mobile. Just on three in the afternoon. Nearly time to close. The day had been manic which was something she’d been grateful for. With customer after customer coming in she hadn’t had time to think about Ritchie – not when she’d spent the day being greeted by the excited smiles and warm congratulations of the locals, followed by the heart-warming pride of watching their eyes widen as they discovered row after row of the confectioneries gleaming under the low lights. Almost everyone wanted to sample those on offer, before leaving with bags and boxes of white chocolate hearts filled with strawberry jelly, hazelnuts and almonds enrobed in milk chocolate, or caramel-filled dark chocolates, which would ooze once bitten into, coating the mouth in bittersweet richness.
Serena looked at the half-empty trays. No doubt about it, the first day had been a success. If she kept the momentum up she would be able to pay Ritchie back and be free of him within a few months.
So why wasn’t that idea filling her heart with happiness?
‘It looks good. You’ve done a brilliant job.’
Selena startled, then relaxed as she realised the deep voice behind her didn’t belong to her erstwhile husband, but to someone a whole lot less complicated, and every bit as sweet as the treats before her.
‘Hey, Jack.’ She turned and smiled, then took a step back as she realised he was holding a bunch of flowers. Roses. Thankfully yellow, or rather – not red. Not that it mattered what colour they were. They were hardly going to be for her. Male friends didn’t give female friends flowers, did they? No. They were probably for his mum. Jack seemed like the kind of guy to give flowers to his mum.
‘For you.’ He presented the bouquet to her, as lines created through a life working outdoors radiated from his eyes. ‘Just a little something to say congratulations.’
Heat prickled Serena’s chest as she took them. Shit. They were for her. What was she to do now? She bit her lip. Double shit. Jack was leaning forward, his lips puckered, waiting for her to lean forward so he could kiss her on the lips Oh God. Nope. His head was angled. Just a cheek kiss then. That she could live with. She went up on tiptoes and grazed his cheek with a kiss.
‘Thank you, Jack. That’s so kind of you. You didn’t have to, really. But… yeah…’ Serena stepped back, and inhaled the potent scent of the roses. ‘Thank you.’
‘It was the least I could do, Serena. Honestly.’ Jack clasped his hands behind his back and rocked back and forth on his toes. ‘I mean, I’m proud of you. You’re doing something important to you. You’ve made things happen. I admire that. I do.’
‘Awww, isn’t that just lovely?’ Ritchie’s voice, as syrupy sweet as honey, filled the room.
His boots clomped on the oak floor as he came to stand beside Jack, giving him a hefty slap on the back in greeting.
Of all the times he could have chosen to come to the chocolate shop, it had to be right at that moment. Serena dipped her head into the bouquet to make it look as if she were enjoying the aroma of roses and used the moment of privacy to centre herself. It was her grand opening day, and she wasn’t letting anyone derail it.
‘Smell good, do they, Serena? Can I have a sniff?’ Ritchie leant forward, his forehead centimetres away from Serena’s, his musky masculine scent overpowering the delicate one of the flowers.
‘Sure. Here.’ She thrust the bunch into his hands. ‘And while you have them, make yourself useful and put them in a vase – there’s one in the cupboard to the right of the sink.’ She flashed Jack an apologetic smile. ‘They’re gorgeous, I don’t want them dying.’
She ignored Ritchie’s smirk as he brushed past her on the way to the kitchen. The mere touch of his leather jacket on her silk blouse sent shivers of something she’d rather not be feeling up her arm, down her spine. Lower.
Was there such a thing as man repellent? Because if there was she’d buy it by the boatload.
‘So…’ Jack shuffled from foot to foot awkwardly. ‘What are you up to after you’ve shut the shop tonight? Are you coming to the pub? You know, to celebrate the shop opening?’
Serena’s heart slammed against her chest as panic set in. Was this Jack’s way of asking her out? Oh, hell no. Nope. He was too good. Too nice. Too… Jack. She’d hurt him once, all those years ago when she’d left town without a backward glance, and she wasn’t going to do it again.
‘Oh, I’m having a family dinner. You know, a celebratory thing…’
‘That’s right… the family dinner.’ Ritchie swaggered back into the room and placed the vase on the edge of the counter. ‘That’s why I’ve come by, your mum wanted to make sure you weren’t going to bail out on it.’
‘Bail? Not at all.’ She turned to Ritchie and widened her eyes, hoping he’d take the hint that she was politely backing away from a potentially very awkward moment, but the smirk on his face told her she was just being hustled out of one trap and straight into another. ‘I mean, it’s been a busy day here, so I might have to take off early tonight to get some work done. And besides, it’ll just be Mum, Dad and me, so if I do leave early it’s no big deal, they’ll understand. Or, at least, Dad will…’
‘Oh no, I’ll be there too. I’m still family. On paper at least.’
Serena blew out a huff of air. ‘Whatever, Mum can’t stand you. Never could. It’s one thing for her to house you because I won’t, but it’s another for her to have you sit at the family table.’
‘Well, you’ll see for yourself at this family dinner, that’s apparently going on tonight, that we’re getting on like a house on fire.’ Ritchie’s eyes flicked to Jack, his grin growing bigger.
Serena turned back to Jack to find his face as red as the freeze-dried raspberries she’d crushed and sprinkled into her raspberry cream chocolates that morning. So much for a polite rebuffing. Ritchie had made it all too obvious she was telling one giant porky. Still, she’d have to stick with the story – and she kind of wanted to. Ritchie and her mother getting along? That was a sight she had to see to believe.
‘Right, well…’ Jack began to shuffle backwards. ‘I’d better be getting back to the farm. Got some hedges to trim now the weather’s cooled off. Couple of fences to mend. Shall I tell Jody you say hi?’
‘Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.’ Serena’s heart went out to Jack. He was a good man. The kind of man who wouldn’t have made life difficult, who would have bent to her will, the way so many men had done with Hunter women over the years. But for that very reason, and more, he wasn’t the man for her. ‘And thanks again for the flowers, Jack. It really was very…’
‘Sweet of me. Yeah, I know. I’ll catch you later, Serena.’ Jack nodded as he backed out into the street.
‘Well, that was awkward.’ Ritchie slipped onto a stool and spun round slowly, reached the point where it stopped, then spun the other way.
‘Only because you made it so.’ Serena tweaked a flower.
‘No. I disagree. I could feel the “help me out” vibes from out in the street. So Jacky boy really does have the hots for you, hey? Can’t say I blame him.’
‘Well aren’t you just being oh so cool about this? I would’ve thought seeing me being hit on would’ve put the wind up you? That it might have made you realise there really was life after Ritchie Dangerfield.’ Serena grabbed her apron from the hook on the wall next to the cash register, pulled it over her head and went to knot together the strings behind her back. She didn’t have time to waste conversing with Ritchie. After today’s success she needed to get to work melting and mixing, cooking and creating.
‘Here. Let me.’
She found herself being tugged backwards until her bum touched Ritchie’s knees, the ties slipping from her hands as he took control.
‘You could never tie anything from the back.’ Ritchie murmured. The heat from his breath warmed the back of her neck, setting the fine hairs on their ends, and sparking her nerves alight.
Roughly, efficiently, he knotted the ties, then placed his hands on her waist. Strong. Masculine. He spun her round to face him, his hands leaving her briefly, only to land on her waist as quickly as they’d let go – as if afraid she’d take the moment to back off.
And you should back off, Serena told herself as the world around her went lopsided when the oh-so familiar swoon took hold. She should back off, send him away and get back into the kitchen. If she was busy, she wouldn’t have time to see the intent in Ritchie’s sapphire sparklers. Wouldn’t have to remember how his lips were as plump as hers, but sharper-edged and capable of demanding things from her that she could give no other man.
He brought her towards him, his muscular calves linking over the backs of hers, locking her into position.
‘Damn it, Ritchie.’ The words came out husky, desperate. But desperate for what? For him? To get away from him? Her heart and head couldn’t come to an agreement.
His fingers, soft on her back, stroked rhythmically, while the silkiness of her shirt slipping over her bare skin tantalised. Her shins caught on the stool’s footrest as resistance fled and lust took hold.
She bit her lip then released it, as Ritchie’s mouth hovered above hers, the edges tipped up ever so slightly before they grew closer still.
‘If you want to. It’s up to you. I’m not pushing,’ he whispered, his breath tickling her lips, setting them on fire.
Her hands captured Ritchie’s face. She could move away. Or she could move closer. It was up to her. She had control.
And she liked it.
She brushed his lips with her own. Sampled their softness. One touch wasn’t enough. She moaned softly, giving in to herself, as their lips met. Hot. Demanding.
His mouth opened to her as hers opened to him, their tongues finding each other, devouring each other. Ritchie’s hands left her waist and tangled in her hair, bringing her closer, deeper. Her body leaned into his, melding as her hands ran up and down his back, settling on his neck as his lips left hers and kissed along her jawline, trailing down her neck, nibbling along her shoulder. A groan filled the air.
Except it wasn’t from her mouth. And Ritchie wasn’t a groaner.
‘Oh, God. I’m blind. Or I want to be. I mean, I was expecting to see some treats… but not this kind of treat…’
Ritchie bobbed back up from Serena’s shoulder and nodded politely to the woman hovering at the open door. ‘Sorry, and you are?’
‘Mrs Harper.’ Serena breathed the word out, dread pushing away the passion.
‘Serena. Your mother said you and this fellow had broken up. Is that no longer the case? She usually tells me everything, so I’d have expected to hear about this.’
Serena turned around, inch by inch, not wanting to face the town’s biggest gossip, but knowing she was going to have to if she had any chance of damage control. ‘Mrs Harper, meet Ritchie. Ritchie, meet Mrs Harper. And no, Mrs Harper, we’re not back together. Ritchie was just helping me…’ She cast about for a decent excuse.
‘Helping you find your tongue?’ Mrs Harper cackled. ‘Reminding you where your shoulder was?’
‘He was helping me tie my apron.’ The words came out as lame as the excuse.
‘And I’d gladly do it again.’ Ritchie winked as he slipped off the stool. ‘Now I’d better get going. Promised your mum I’d help feed the cows and clean out the shed. I’ll let her know you’re coming home tonight for family dinner?’ Ritchie grinned before tipping an imaginary hat to Mrs Harper as he sauntered out of the shop.
Bollocks. Serena strode to the window and flipped the sign to ‘Closed’. Family dinner. The kiss had made her forget she’d said that particular white lie to poor Jack. And it seemed Ritchie wasn’t going to let her out of it. She touched her lips, still hot and tender from their kiss. And maybe, just maybe, she was a little happy about that.