Searching for Love (The Bradens & Montgomerys (Pleasant Hill - Oak Falls) Book 6)

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Searching for Love (The Bradens & Montgomerys (Pleasant Hill - Oak Falls) Book 6) Page 4

by Melissa Foster


  Damn right he was. But this was an expedition unlike any other. Zev had thought he’d always known who he was and what he’d accept to make a happy life, even if it wasn’t what he’d truly wanted. But he was wrong. There were stakes at play with Carly that he’d never expected.

  “And if I fail?” As the words left Zev’s lips, he realized he had no idea who he’d be if she looked him in his eyes and said she was done with him.

  “Then you’re fucked, son,” his father said far too blatantly. “But I have faith in you.” He handed Zev the stones and said, “Drop those in your pockets.”

  “Why?”

  His father slung an arm over his shoulder as Zev pocketed the stones and said, “The right woman will distract you from everything else. This way you won’t be swapping an empty heart for empty pockets.”

  Chapter Three

  CHOCOLATE HAD SAVED Carly once, and with any luck it would pull her through this week and help her forget Zev Braden and his charming ways. Hopefully it would erase his sinful voice, too, which had taunted her throughout her sleepless night. Even as a young girl she’d been drawn to his voice. Back then it had been raspier and more interesting than other boys’ their age. But now his voice was rich and manly with a hint of gruffness. She knew plenty of men, and none had a voice that made her body heat up like Zev’s had yesterday. But she knew it was more than just his voice that had done her in. It was the confident yet casual way he carried himself, the spark of intrigue in his eyes, his familiarity, his playfulness, the way he looked at her, their history. It was everything about him. Why had she wasted her time practicing small talk and feigned confidence when what she really needed was blackout glasses and a noise-control headset? Who was she kidding? It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been encased in lead. Their connection was potent enough to melt even that off her body.

  Ugh…

  She set a tray of chocolate hearts on the counter between the chocolate-covered pretzels she was packaging and the chocolate-peppermint bars she was cutting to sell in the shop. On Sundays Divine Intervention was open only from ten to three, and Carly usually went on a horseback ride before coming in. She’d been too keyed up to sit still and had skipped it, and had come to work at five a.m. hoping to lose herself in the world of temptation that had always done the trick before. But as she took in the plethora of specialty treats littering the counters—more than she could sell in a day—her mind trickled back to Zev. Unfortunately, even after all these years, it never wandered far.

  She hadn’t allowed herself to search for him online after he’d left Pleasant Hill. It would have been too painful if she’d found evidence of him having a blast while she was trying to remember how to breathe. But after Mexico, she’d broken down and searched. It was like he’d dropped off the face of the earth—and she’d been so messed up, she’d felt like she’d been dropped on her head. She could have asked his family for his whereabouts, but then she would have had to admit that she’d done something just as bad to him as he’d done to her. They were both guilty of walking away. She’d sworn off searching for him ever since. She hadn’t even given in to the urge to see his face when she’d heard he’d hit it big a number of years ago. She’d come to rely on playing head games with herself to keep from giving in to her heart, which desperately wanted to find its way back to him.

  Until Charlotte asked her to cater desserts for her wedding.

  That was when she’d finally allowed herself to search for images of Zev online. She hadn’t been surprised that he wasn’t on social media. He’d never been interested in showing off. But she’d seen a few pictures of him on some of his siblings’ social pages, although his face was obscured in most and she had a feeling that was purposeful. He was mentioned in articles about his discovery in international waters off the coast of the Bahamas, but he wasn’t pictured. Carly had kept herself out of the Bradens’ lives for so long, she’d never known the details of that multimillion-dollar discovery until she’d read about it in the weeks before the wedding. But even that hadn’t surprised her. She’d always believed Zev would find anything he looked for—which was another reason she’d been so heartbroken.

  He had never come looking for her.

  She went back to packaging chocolate-covered pretzels for the gift baskets. As she scooped them up and poured them into cellophane bags, Zev’s voice whispered through her mind. Maybe that adventurous girl is still in there after all. His younger voice followed the manly one, traipsing through her head like a ghost—Come on an adventure, Carls. You’re the only one who can keep up with me.

  Zev’s voice wasn’t the only thing that had set him apart from other boys when they were growing up. He’d had an edge to him even then, a restlessness. A need to do more, see more, and understand more than other kids. They’d known each other their whole lives, and to this day Carly’s mother swore Carly had crushed on Zev from the time she was in second grade, when their entire class had raced in the schoolyard. She and Zev had beaten every other kid to the finish line, and the two of them had tied. She’d insisted on a rematch, and they’d tied again. The third and final time they’d raced had also resulted in a tie. She’d challenged Zev to a race every day for the next three weeks, each one ending in a tie. She’d finally stopped challenging him, in lieu of practicing with the hopes of winning the next time she went up against him. But a week later he’d knocked on her front door and asked if she could come out to play. He’d carried a walking stick that he’d carved and painted with his father’s help over one shoulder with a pillowcase tied to the end of it, packed full of supplies for their expedition. She’d thought he’d looked like a real explorer standing on her front porch, his shaggy hair hanging in his eyes, worn jeans with a hole in the knee, and hiking boots that were too big because he’d outgrown his own and borrowed Beau’s. And in that raspy voice, he’d said, Come on an adventure, Carls. You’re the only one who can keep up with me. Her mother was right. Even the memory of that day made her heart feel heavy and full.

  The bells above the front door to the shop jangled, drawing Carly from her thoughts.

  “Carly? I’m sorry I’m late!” Birdie called out as she rushed through the shop toward the kitchen, stopping to peek at herself in a mirror on the wall.

  Birdie was Carly’s right hand in all things chocolate-shop related, including managing Quinn Finney, who worked part time. Her mind moved in seventeen directions at once, which might drive some people crazy, but Carly loved that about her. Birdie’s brilliant mind worked wonders, coming up with social media posts and holiday events that lured in throngs of customers. Carly used to be that fast-thinking, up-for-anything girl. She had been the spontaneous, pushy, yang to Tory’s careful, organized yin. It never failed to boggle her mind how much she’d changed since Tory’s death. She’d become the careful, organized yin, and she felt lucky to have Birdie, her rambunctious, ever-energetic yang.

  “I went to the Roadhouse last night with Quinn and Sasha, and you know how it is once I get on that mechanical bull,” Birdie called out from within the shop, turning her head this way and that as she looked in the mirror. Sasha was her older sister, and the Roadhouse was a biker bar where their family hung out. “I know you’re an only-Wednesday-night girl, but you would have had so much fun last night!” she called out as she leaned closer to inspect her eyes in the mirror. Carly went to the Roadhouse every Wednesday night to spend time with Birdie’s family.

  Birdie flitted into the kitchen carrying a number of shopping bags in each hand, her wild dark hair flying over her bare shoulders. She stopped abruptly. “Whoa. Did we get orders I don’t know about?”

  Carly twisted a gold tie around a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels and said, “Nope. What’s in the bags?”

  “Oh, these?” She held them up, grinning as she sauntered through the kitchen. “We went by Karma’s boutique before going to the bar, and I picked up the cutest thank-you cards to send to the people who take the class tonight. We have five spots filled, by the
way, but I have a good feeling that we’ll fill the sixth today.” They held monthly chocolatier classes, and Birdie was always picking up little extras for the participants. “Anyway, I had to get you a few cute outfits since if I don’t give you three weeks’ notice and mark a spot on your carefully planned schedule, you refuse to pry yourself away from those mind-numbing documentaries to go shopping. Wait until you see what I got you! I’ll show you after I help get all this food under control.”

  If it weren’t for Birdie, Carly would live in her Divine Intervention shirts and Daisy Dukes all summer, like the ones she was currently wearing. Birdie had a fashion sense all her own, as proven by the circa 1980s off-the-shoulder ruffled dress she had on, but she was usually careful to choose less outlandish outfits for Carly.

  Carly watched with amusement as Birdie carried the bags into the office, rambling about riding the mechanical bull longer than any of the guys at the bar.

  Five, four, three, two—

  “The wedding!” Birdie exclaimed, running out of the office. “Oh my gosh! How was it? All this chocolate either means you had out-of-this-world sex with Zev or something bad. Really bad.” She hurried over to Carly, took her by the wrist, and dragged her away from the counter. “Spill, woman!”

  Carly tried to assemble her thoughts. “It was—”

  “Tell me everything. From the first second you saw him right down to the last! Did you do our plan? Did it work? You wore the dress, right?”

  “Can I talk now?” Carly teased.

  “Yes! Go! Sorry…” Birdie huffed out a breath and said, “Everything.”

  Carly laughed. “I wore the dress, but when I saw him…” A shiver of heat darted through her, and she felt her cheeks burn.

  Birdie squealed.

  “Don’t get too excited. I basically told him I was a slut.” Carly walked back to the counter with Birdie on her heels.

  “What? Why? You’re the farthest thing from a slut. You’re a nun without a habit. You’re the girl my brothers all wish I were. You’re the—”

  “That was the plan, remember? Confident? Popular? Unaffected by him?”

  Birdie snagged a chocolate pretzel and bit into it. “Yes, but where in all of that do you hear the word slut?”

  “I didn’t call myself that. But I told him I have lots of boyfriends, including Cutter.” She shifted her eyes away and said, “And that we have an open relationship.”

  “Oh my God, girl! Cutter?” Birdie laughed. “You’d never go out with Cutter. My brothers can attest to the fact that you don’t like big, burly ranchers.” The Whiskeys owned Redemption Ranch, and most of Birdie’s family worked there.

  “Hopefully Zev doesn’t know that.” She began assembling a gift basket and said, “I didn’t mean to take it so far. I was just going to say Cutter was my boyfriend, but then Cutter was dirty dancing with someone else and I had to come up with a cover story. I couldn’t help it. It was really hard seeing Zev again. I was lucky to be coherent enough to string words together to form a sentence. You should have seen the way he looked at me. Birdie, I actually got weak in the knees! Who does that? I still can’t believe it happened.”

  “Damn.” Birdie put her arms around Carly and patted her back, whispering, “I knew you were still hooked on him.”

  Carly pushed out of her embrace. “I’m not, and even if I was, I’d never act on it. I have a business to run and a life to live. Festival on the Green is only a week away, and you know that’s one of my favorite events of the year. It’s always so much fun. I have no room in my life for heartache.” Festival on the Green was a weeklong event with sidewalk sales, live music in the park, and a sea of tents. One of Carly’s favorite local artists, Kaylie Crew, was booked to sing at the event, along with several other bands, and Carly couldn’t wait to see her perform. She’d never forget how she’d fangirled when Treat and his wife, Max, had walked into the chocolate shop with Kaylie and her husband, Chaz, years earlier. She’d nearly lost her mind when she’d learned that Kaylie and Max were besties. Kaylie had become a regular customer, and Carly still got butterflies when she saw her.

  The bell over the door chimed as a couple walked into the shop. Carly called out one of her standard greetings. “I’ll be right with you. Please don’t rob us. I’m too tired to chase you down the block.”

  The couple laughed.

  Birdie lowered her voice and said, “What happened after you told him about you and your harem of men?”

  “We talked for a minute, and then I avoided him until I could leave.”

  “I knew I should have gone with you. Then I could have gotten a read on the situation. So, is he gone? Back to his life of treasure hunting? Is that why you’re making enough chocolate to feed everyone in the state?” She waved at the goodies Carly had made and said, “You know this screams of sexual frustration, right?”

  “I am sexually frustrated,” she whispered harshly. “Zevy is potent enough that I’ll probably be frustrated long after he leaves town next week.”

  “Wait! He’s still here? For a week?” Birdie rubbed her hands together and said, “Where is he staying?”

  “Do not even think about it.” Carly turned her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shove toward the door. “Go help our customers.”

  BIRDIE WORKED HER social media magic, putting the word out that they had gone chocolate happy and were having a ten-percent-off sale. By a little before three o’clock, they had sold most of the goodies Carly had made, and she was packaging the rest in a gift box for one of Birdie’s older brothers, Callahan, who went by the nickname Cowboy. He’d stopped by to pick up an order of truffles and tarts for a movie night the ranch was hosting for a group of Boy Scouts.

  Carly tied a ribbon around the gift box and said, “How many kids are you expecting tonight?”

  “Thirty or so. Two Scout troops.” Cowboy was about six four with bulbous muscles, hair the color of wheat, and a beard that was a shade darker.

  “That’s great. I’m sure they’ll have fun. Are you guys ready for Festival on the Green?” Redemption Ranch always had a booth at the event to raise awareness for their services and collect donations. Since the ranch didn’t close for the event, they had a host of volunteers to help with the festival.

  “We’re about as ready as we’ll ever be. I know you’re ready. You run this place like a well-oiled machine.” He glanced into the shop at his sister and said, “Did Birdie tell you about a hot yoga class she’s going to?”

  “Mm-hmm. Why?”

  “There’s a dude instructor. Do you know anything about him? Are you going to the class?”

  “I’m teaching a chocolate class at three thirty, so no yoga for me. But it’s a yoga class, Cowboy. I don’t think Birdie’s virtue will be in danger.” Carly set the gift box in a larger box with the truffles and tarts. She heard the bells over the door ring and glanced at the clock, glad she still had plenty of time to get ready for her class.

  Cowboy scowled and said, “Would you go to that yoga class if you weren’t busy?”

  “I’m not really into yoga. I like to hike and do things outdoors, but the idea of getting sweaty inside doesn’t make much sense to me.” She swore she heard Zev’s voice, and just as it registered, memories of her and Zev rolling around naked and sweaty in his hotel room in Mexico came rushing back, making her hot all over. She turned away, hoping Cowboy didn’t notice.

  “Should I pretend you’re not blushing a red streak?”

  “Yes, please.” She heard what sounded like Zev’s voice again. Praying she’d made it up in her head, she peered into the shop—and nearly choked. Zev was standing at the counter talking with Birdie. Carly flattened her back against the wall next to the doorway, as nervous to see him as she was elated. She quickly realized how bad that was. She couldn’t afford to be flustered when she taught her class. “Tell me I’m seeing things. Is there a really good-looking guy out there with longish hair? Please say no. He can’t be here.”

  Cowboy’s express
ion turned serious. His eyes narrowed and he looked into the shop. “That guy stalking you or something? Need me to take care of him?”

  “No. He’s fine. He’s…” Making my heart race. “I used to go out with him. Let’s just get your stuff and get moving. My class starts soon.”

  “An ex, huh?” Cowboy got a rascally look in his eyes. “I’ve got your back, Carly. Don’t sweat it.” He picked up the boxes in one arm and hooked his other arm over her shoulder.

  “No, really, Cowboy, I’m—” She stopped talking as he led her into the shop and Zev and Birdie looked over.

  Zev’s eyes caught Carly’s, and her stomach tumbled. He looked delicious in a dark T-shirt and faded jeans. His gaze shifted to Cowboy, and his jaw clenched. Cowboy cocked an arrogant grin. Birdie looked baffled, and Carly was too flustered to think straight.

  “We’ve filled the sixth slot for the class!” Birdie exclaimed. “He’s signing up right now.” She slapped a paper on the counter and handed Zev a pen. “What did you say your name was?”

  “Zev Braden,” he said, eyes locked on Carly.

  Lordy, that voice…

  Birdie’s eyes widened. “You’re Zev?”

  “The one and only,” Zev said with an air of authority.

  “Thanks for the little extra gift, darlin’.” Cowboy kissed Carly’s cheek and swatted her ass.

  Carly let out a surprised squeak. Birdie giggled, and Zev’s eyes narrowed.

  Cowboy nodded at Zev in that manly way men had when they were sizing each other up and claiming alpha status. Zev was a formidable guy, but Cowboy rivaled Nick Braden in size, and when he puffed out his chest, not many men could match his breadth.

  Zev lifted his chin and threw his shoulders back, nodding curtly in return. Zev had never been one to back down from a challenge, and it was thrilling to see that hadn’t changed.

 

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