by Melody Grace
“Sounds like a plan,” Luke agreed, grinning. “As long as we get to eat it afterwards.”
“Oh, count on it. There’s a grand demolition party,” Summer said. “It’s like Mac’s pottery-smashing sessions, only edible.”
“Count us in!”
* * *
Natalie lingered another hour in the bakery with Luke, greeting friends and customers who were stopping by for their breakfast sugar fix. She loved how quickly she’d become a part of this town and the sense of community she felt here, but it felt extra-special with Luke’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, announcing their new relationship to the world.
“I should head back and open the store,” she finally said, after two sticky buns and enough coffee to see her through another busy day. “Aunt June put the fear of God into me about this Starbright tourist rush, and now I’m spending every spare minute making extra batches of all my bestselling candies.”
“Then I’ll have to stop by and help test all those recipes,” Luke said with a grin.
She laughed. “Don’t you have your own holiday commissions to be working on?”
“Right. Those,” Luke said, looking in no hurry to get back to work. “I’ll get around to them soon enough. Plenty of time.”
“If you say so.” Natalie was taking a page out of Alice’s book this year: she had a schedule, and she was sticking to it. “I’ll see you later?”
“Bet on it.”
Luke kissed her goodbye, and she headed back to the shop, a skip in her step that had nothing to do with the caffeine she’d just consumed. She had a lunch date set with Summer, a girls’ night out with Alice and Lila on the books, plans for that cookie-baking party . . . Her social calendar was overflowing, and Natalie was thrilled.
It was hard to believe that she’d arrived in Sweetbriar Cove just a few short months ago feeling so desperately alone. Oliver had isolated her from everyone else in her life so steadily that Natalie had begun to believe that it really was her fault. That they could see she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t worth the time or effort to keep around—just like Oliver always said.
But he was wrong, it couldn’t have been clearer now. She’d been blind to his manipulation, and then too ashamed to reach out on her own to make amends. And although Natalie couldn’t have been happier with all her new friendships here in town, she couldn’t forget the ones she’d left behind.
Like DeAnna.
Natalie felt a guilty pang. She hadn’t yet worked up the courage to reach out to her old business partner. After all, she’d been the one to push her away after believing all of Oliver’s stories about how DeAnna was jealous and holding her back. She’d thought the worst about her, when all along, DeAnna was just trying to save Natalie from the biggest mistake of her life.
Natalie arrived back at the shop and looked around. DeAnna would love Coco, she knew. She’d always encouraged Natalie to dream big, even when Natalie couldn’t see further than their next catering job.
And now . . .
Now, Natalie wished her friend could be here to see everything she’d accomplished.
She felt a surge of bravery and reached for her phone. She still knew DeAnna’s number by heart, even though it had been years since she’d used it. What was DeAnna doing now? She wondered. Would she even want to hear from Natalie? Would she—
Natalie dialed before she could lose her nerve. “Hello—” she began, before the recorded message cut her off.
“You’ve reached the voicemail of . . .”
Natalie’s heart sank a little, but she forced herself to stay on the line. “Hi,” she said at last, after the beep had sounded. “It’s me. Um, Sara,” she added, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “I was thinking about you, and, well, I wondered how you were. I . . . well, I’d love to talk sometime. It’s over with Oliver. You were right, about everything. So, call me on this number, any time. You can even say, ‘I told you so’ if you want,” Natalie tried to joke. She winced. “Anyway, I hope you’re well. I miss you.”
She hung up—and then realized what she hadn’t said.
Crap.
Natalie quickly dialed again and waited to leave another message. “It’s me, again. Sorry. I just . . . Even if you don’t want to talk, please don’t mention that you heard from me. I started over, and I don’t want anyone to find me. Even my family doesn’t know where I am yet, so, please . . .” Natalie took a breath. “Anyway, bye.”
She slowly lowered the phone. Would DeAnna think she was a crazy drama queen, leaving a message like that?
Maybe. But that was a risk Natalie had to take. Now that she was building something wonderful, she couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to tear it all down.
Her cellphone suddenly rang, and Natalie’s heart leapt. That was quick! But when she snatched it up to answer, there was just silence on the other end.
“Hello?” she checked. “DeAnna? Anyone there?”
Dial tone.
Natalie hung up. Probably just a wrong number. She was just wondering if she should try DeAnna again later when the bell sounded above the shop door—and a group of gray-headed older folks bustled in.
“Ooh, Joanie, look at these candies!” one of them exclaimed. “They’d be perfect for your party.”
“Do you think so? I have an awful lot of people coming . . .”
A lot of people?
Natalie snapped to attention. Her past wasn’t going anywhere for now, but her future? She was building it, one delicious chocolate at a time.
She rounded the counter with a smile. “Would anyone like to try some samples?”
15
With Natalie swamped daily by the holiday rush at the chocolate shop, Luke finally turned his attention to his own career.
182 unread messages. He checked his work email and winced. Maybe he had let things slide, but in his defense, it was hard to think about furniture when the only piece he cared about was Natalie’s bed . . . and dining room table . . . and couch…
Still, it looked like being unavailable was the best thing Luke could have done. Half the messages were begging for custom designs—and they only upped their offers the longer he’d gone without replying. Now, he could take his pick and name his price.
“Playing hard to get, the oldest trick in the book,” Wes agreed when Luke told him about the waiting list. “There’s a reason women use it on us all the time.”
“Speak for yourself,” Luke shot back. “Maybe they’re just ignoring you for a reason.”
Wes laughed. “So, what do you think?” he asked, gesturing around. “Reckon you can put me at the top of your list?”
Luke looked around Wes’s offices, taking them in. It was a big, modern building on the outskirts of Sweetbriar Cove, all concrete floors and whitewashed walls. He whistled at the cavernous space. “You weren’t kidding, this place is brand new.”
“A blank canvas,” Wes agreed. “I figure I need a big conference table in here, some pieces in the lobby . . . Oh, and a real statement desk. Something that screams money.”
Luke smirked, amused. “I mean, I could just glue hundred-dollar bills to the thing if you want . . .”
Wes looked bashful. “I sound like an asshole, don’t I? Sorry. But it’s cut-throat out there, and I haven’t gotten this far without projecting a certain image, if you know what I mean.”
“I get it,” Luke said, and he did. Wes never talked much about his circumstances growing up, but Luke knew his family had never been well off. He was glad to see his friend make a success of himself now. “We can definitely do some statement pieces. Maybe concrete, raw metals and leather . . .” He could already see them in the space. “But it’s going to cost you,” he warned. “Materials like that don’t come cheap. Plus, you know, I’m highly in demand these days,” he added, teasing.
Wes laughed. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. So, I take it you’re sticking around?”
Luke nodded. “I’m checking out some workshop spaces this week
. Grandpa Earl’s garage has been fine for the smaller stuff, but I’ll need room for the rest of my equipment once I bring it out of storage.”
“Putting down roots, huh?”
He shrugged. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”
“Or anyone you’d rather be with,” Wes said with a knowing look.
Luke grinned. He wasn’t going to deny it. Things with Natalie were only just beginning, and that was more than a good enough reason to make Sweetbriar Cove home. “Me, Jackson . . . Soon enough Cassie and Chase will show up, I’m sure.”
Wes cleared his throat. “Anyway, let me know if you need a deposit on anything. I’ve got some big meetings coming up, and folding chairs don’t exactly scream, ‘Invest with me now.’ ”
Luke chuckled. “You’ve got it. You know, I have a bunch of display pieces in the warehouse back in Philly,” he added. “If you want to ship them down, you’re welcome to take them as loaners.”
“That would be great!”
They figured out the details and then shook on it, before Luke headed back to Earl’s place to get started ordering materials and figuring out the designs. He’d already finished up that table his brother had wanted, and he was looking forward to a new challenge. Most people wanted the classics, so it was great to have a free hand to try something more interesting. If Wes wanted to turn heads with his new digs, then Luke was happy to lend a hand.
Plus, the unlimited budget never hurt.
He was deep in his sketchbook, researching antique leather suppliers, when a noise from the doorway made him look up.
“Hey, stranger,” Natalie greeted him with a smile. She was bundled in her coat and scarf, cheeks pink from the chill.
Luke wondered if she would ever not take his breath away.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you,” he added, giving her a grin. “But I thought you were stuck at work all day.”
“I was.” Natalie gave him a quizzical look. “It’s after six.”
“Already?” Luke blinked in surprise. “I must have lost track of time.”
“That’s a good sign. What are you working on?” Natalie moved closer, and Luke tugged her into his lap. “These are great,” she exclaimed, flipping through his designs. “A new commission?”
He nodded, distracted by her nearness and the chocolate scent that lingered around her; intoxicatingly sweet. “A big one,” he said, showing her the sketches. “So dinner’s on me. All the fries you can handle.”
Natalie laughed. “I can handle a lot,” she warned him.
“Go crazy.”
She snuggled closer in embrace, still looking at his sketches. Luke tightened his arms around her, feeling the same heady cocktail of contentment and exhilaration he felt whenever she was near. “Wait a second,” Natalie said, flipping to some of the magazine tears he kept, showing the photoshoots of his work in high-end magazines. “Architectural Digest? Wallpaper? The New York Times? You’re famous!”
“Craftsman famous,” Luke corrected her with a chuckle. “I’m not exactly giving Lila a run for her money.”
“I’m serious!” Natalie turned to face him, her eyes wide. “You’re a big deal. Which means . . . What were you doing building me shelves?” she asked. “That’s like asking Givenchy to hem a pair of jeans!”
Luke had to smile at her expression. “I had my reasons,” he said, sliding his hands around her waist.
She blushed. “Really? Even then?”
“Even always.”
Natalie melted against him, her arms sliding up around his neck and her lips opening to him, wet and sweet. Luke lost himself in her touch, her kiss. It was intoxicating, every damn time, and he couldn’t get enough.
This was all he wanted. Forever.
He bit back the words, knowing they were the last thing he should be thinking right now. Natalie was caught up in the moment; she pressed against him eagerly, sending his pulse racing and his heart pounding in his chest. And as for other parts of him . . .
Luke groaned as Natalie’s hands skimmed over his chest and moved to his belt.
“Wait,” he muttered hoarsely, before his brain switched off altogether. “I didn’t lock the door. Earl . . .”
“Is taking a nap,” Natalie replied with an irresistible grin. “We have the place to ourselves.”
God bless Earl and his evening naps.
“Well, in that case . . .” Luke bent his head to her, nibbling at her earlobe and skimming his mouth across her neck. She shivered in his hands, and Luke felt a surge of power. He loved that he could make her shudder, make her moan. Every breathless gasp of pleasure felt like a prize to him. The greatest victory of all.
“I missed you,” she whispered, setting his blood ablaze. He gripped her ass and lifted her, setting her down on his workbench. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer as they shed coats and clothing, stealing kisses like they were teenagers necking before curfew.
Soon, they were almost naked, hot skin pressed in the cool autumn air. Luke’s head was spinning, drunk on her touch. He wanted to lose himself in her lush body, drown in her sweetness and never come up for air, murmuring all the things he couldn’t say. Like, I need you.
Like, Stay with me.
Like, “I love you.”
“What did you say?”
Natalie’s head jerked up, and Luke realized the words had spilled out loud.
Goddamn.
He searched her expression and saw the surprise there. The flicker of anxiety.
See? It was way too much, way too soon.
“Forget I said that,” he told her, and leaned in to kiss her thoroughly again. But Natalie broke away.
“Are you sure? Because . . .” She trailed off, looking about as uncomfortable as he felt.
“Because nothing,” Luke lied. “It’s fine. Now, where was I? Oh yeah, right here . . .” He slid his hands over her bare stomach, trying to distract her. “And here . . .” He dipped his head, nuzzling in the sensitive hollow of her neck.
Natalie paused another moment, then she surrendered to his touch with a gasp.
Luke kissed her deeper, relieved—for now. He focused every ounce of his attention on driving her so wild with pleasure she wouldn’t have time to remember what he’d just said. But even as his hands teased and caressed her, his mind was racing.
What the hell was he thinking, talking about love when Natalie was so determined to take things slow?
Luke scolded himself. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel pressured, that this was turning serious too fast. He hadn’t meant to say anything, it had just slipped out, but now that the words lingered in the air between them, he knew in his heart he couldn’t deny it if he tried.
He was falling in love with her.
Hopelessly, crazy in love.
And Luke could only hope now that his accidental confession hadn’t just screwed everything up.
I love you.
Natalie’s head spun with Luke’s murmured confession, but she tried not to think about those three little words. Luke did a stellar job distracting her on his workbench, and then they were busy getting dressed again and heading into town to grab a drink and dinner at the pub. The place was packed with familiar faces, and soon, Natalie was caught up chatting with Eliza and Mackenzie about holiday plans. But even as she debated gift ideas and cookie recipes, she couldn’t stop herself from searching out Luke in the crowd.
There.
He was standing by the bar, talking to Alice, laughing at something she was saying. He looked so easy and relaxed, as if nothing had changed between them.
As if he hadn’t just laid his feelings on the line like it was nothing at all.
Love . . .
Natalie gulped, gripped with panic and awe at the same time. What was she supposed to say to that? How was she supposed to feel? She was crazy about him. Craving him, giddy at every blissful touch. Each moment they spent together sent her tumbling deepe
r in a reckless freefall . . .
She just had to hope she wasn’t about to hit the ground.
“. . . What do you think?”
Natalie snapped back. Eliza was looking at her expectantly. “Sorry,” Natalie apologized. “I spaced out there for a moment.”
“Checking out the local attractions, hmmm?” Eliza asked, a sparkle in her eye.
Natalie blushed. “Something like that,” she said.
“I won’t hold it against you.” Eliza grinned. “They are pretty magical this time of year. I’m talking about all the holiday decorations, of course,” she said, mock serious.
Mackenzie laughed. “Of course,” she echoed. “They’re very . . . decorative.”
The other women paused a moment, looking at their other halves with clear appreciation. Natalie felt a pang of envy. They both seemed so confident in their relationships, able to be themselves and part of a team at the same time, without even skipping a beat.
They didn’t stay up at night, desperately trying to figure out how to fall in love without losing a part of themselves.
Because that was what Natalie was so scared of. Making the same mistakes all over again. With Oliver, her love had been used against her. Twisted into a weapon that made her doubt herself and every last choice until she couldn’t even trust her own heart.
Luke was different, she knew that. Of course she knew.
But was she?
Natalie watched Luke greet a newcomer, all smiles and relaxed laughter. He made it look easy, like opening up and confessing his feelings was no big deal. Even the way he’d told her had been casual, slipped between kisses like it was more sweet nothings and not a bombshell that could potentially detonate them both.
And maybe love should be easy, and beautiful, but Natalie’s experience hadn’t been so pretty. She’d seen the worst of what it could be and had spent the past year working hard to stand on her own two feet. To start over and trust her instincts again. And yes, those instincts were pulling her into Luke’s arms like he was gravity, but what if she was wrong?