by Erika Kelly
“Anyhow, Laurent’s decided to come—” She tipped her head back. “I know, right? Who knew I’d get such a good turnout? I’d only booked the small conference room, but now I’ve got overflow in the banquet room.” She sat forward in a snap. “I just hope I can pull this off. Anyhow, so Laurent needs a place to stay. If we can’t find anything, he can stay in my house and Posie and I will move in with you—” Sliding her fingers through her hair, she caught Beckett watching. “Oh.” She waved him in. “Dad, I have to go. Someone’s here. But, yes, please do that. I’d really appreciate it.”
Beckett came in, catching a glimpse of some of the photographs on the wall. Four girls—obviously sisters—dressed in matching red and white snowflake Christmas pajamas—and a framed cover of Sports Illustrated featuring her mom.
“Thank you so, so much, Dad.”
He couldn’t help thinking back to his own childhood. He and Ari had never posed for a Christmas card. Scanning the wall, he saw the Cavanaughs at graduations and birthday parties, gathered around the pool, sitting around a restaurant table…
He sure as hell didn’t need to worry about Posie. She’s all set.
“Okay, let me know.” She disconnected and set the phone down, quickly standing. “Is everything all right? What’re you doing here?” She checked the time on her computer. “You’ve missed your flight.”
“I’m staying. If it’s all right with you, I’m here for another day.”
“I mean…sure.” In her black leggings and ballet flats, she perched on the edge of her desk. “What’s going on?”
He started to answer, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a huff of breath. “I can’t do it. I can’t get on a plane when I know I’ve got a kid. I don’t know what kind of involvement I should have, but I know I can’t make the right decision if I leave.”
Her features softened. “I’m actually relieved to hear you say that.” And then she went on alert. “Hang on a sec.” Leaning out of the office, she called, “Ian?”
“Yeah?” the man called.
“Are you checking the beans? They smell ready.”
“Dammit, dammit, dammit.”
Coco dashed out the door, waving for Beckett to follow. “Let’s talk in the kitchen, so I can stay on top of what they’re doing.” She hurried down the hallway.
The aproned man that’d let him into the kitchen opened a strange-looking oven, pulled out a tray of beans, and examined them, shifting them around with a finger. “They’re fine. Perfect.”
“You could tell by the smell?” Beckett asked.
“Well, I had a timer set, but she’s right,” Ian said. “They’re definitely ready.” He tipped his head toward Coco. “She’s got a nose like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
“It’s just experience.” Coco sifted through the beans. “After they’ve been roasting awhile, they kind of smell like fresh hay and warm chocolate brownies. That’s the exact moment you take them out.”
Ian checked another oven. “The rest of us mortals wait until we hear the beans popping.”
“This place is nothing like I expected.” One shelving unit had chocolate-shaped flags wrapped in clear cellophane and red, white, and blue ribbons. For the Fourth of July, obviously.
“It’s actually a lot of fun.” Coco smiled at him, and he felt something big, bright, and alive burst open inside him. “Sometimes bakers or chefs complain because they have to make the same exact thing every day, but with chocolates, we’re always experimenting. And not just with the beans but with the flavors and shapes. Actually, your fiancée left without taking the boxes I brought her.” She crossed the kitchen. “Come with me.” She pushed open a door and headed into the shop.
When she flicked on a light switch, he said, “Holy shit.” Since she lived in a western town, he’d expected more cowboy-chic. Instead, her shop had a European feel, with tin ceiling tiles and pale green floor to ceiling bookcases stuffed with packaged chocolates. Three ornately carved dark-stained display cases faced the center of the room, with enough space for the employees to stand behind them and bag the chocolates. In the center stood a glass table covered in antique cake plates.
“You like?” Coco asked.
“It’s you, sophisticated and elegant, with that little bit of funkiness.”
“Well, thank you.” She gave a shy smile. “I’m really proud of it.”
“Posie must love it here.”
“She doesn’t come to work with me all that often. Not with hot ovens and granite wheels and power tools.”
“Who knew chocolate was a dangerous business?” He tried for a humorous tone, but he just wasn’t feeling it.
Because, really, what kind of alternate universe had he dropped into? This is fucking crazy. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but this is weird.”
She laughed. “Are you kidding? I still haven’t recovered from seeing you in the conference room. I nearly plowed into a pick-up truck on my way to get Posie. Oh, my God, I was shaking so hard. I just can’t make sense of this. How can you, of all people in the world, be the one chosen for a destination wedding in Calamity?”
“That’s the part that makes sense. I used to snowboard, and I spent a lot of time with the Bowie brothers.”
“I know, but Diane chose you guys based on Willow’s page—before she knew about the connection.”
“That’s true. Do you know them? The Bowies?”
“Sure. Gray’s my age, but we all went to school together.”
“It’s crazy enough to run into you again.” His gaze wandered out the plate glass window that looked across the street to the town green. “But to find out I have a…” He swallowed. Just say it. “A daughter.” His voice came out strained, tight.
I have a daughter.
Reality slammed him. He stepped back and leaned against the display case.
Fuck.
Shit.
I’m a father.
How the fuck had this happened?
She touched his arm. It should have been innocent. It was innocent. She was only looking to comfort him, but instead it incited a riot of sensation. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Just know that you don’t have to make any decisions right now. We can take this one day at a time. For now, let’s just stay in touch, and you can check out the Splashagram page to keep up with how she’s doing.” She stepped closer to him, her sweet scent filling his senses. “I’m not asking anything of you, I promise.”
Her words offered a relief valve, and it helped. But he was just so caught up in her. That red mouth—so fucking kissable, the flirty hairstyle, and her scent—a hint of flowers, warm chocolate, and clean clothes.
It was happening all over again, the way, six years ago, he’d raced through the stages of attraction. From the surprise of liking her to the deepening into something darker, richer…something sexual.
She felt it, too. He knew she did. Her eyes went lusty, her mouth soft, lips parted. And then she shook away the desire and stepped back. Straightening the cheerful yellow bow on a cellophane-wrapped chocolate moose, she said, “So, you’ve got twenty-four hours in town. How would you like to spend them?”
“With you.” Shit. That came out wrong. “I’d like some time with you and Posie, if at all possible.”
“You’re here for one day. I’ll make it happen.”
“Thank you.”
“She spent the night at my parent’s house last night. Seeing you really threw me, and I just needed to be freaked out and not pretend that everything was okay.”
Exactly how he’d felt around Willow, but he wouldn’t say that about his fiancée. She was impacted, too. “When does she get home?”
“My mom’s supposed to take her to school, but like I said it’s not much more than daycare. She doesn’t start kindergarten until the fall. I’ll ask her to bring her home instead. In fact, why don’t we head over there now? That way you can see her room, look through her baby book…get a feel for her life.”
“Yea
h. I’d like that.” From the moment he’d heard the words-- I’ve got a five-year-old daughter, Posie, and…she’s yours—the world had been spinning. But, with every second that passed, it slowed, his perspective growing sharper, clearer.
“Okay, let me talk to my team and grab my phone.”
And, right then, the picture became crystal clear.
Because he understood that, even if he walked out the door, called a taxi, and headed to the airport, he would never have his coveted freedom again.
He was now, always and forever, a father. It was inescapable.
Which meant he had to figure out how to fit her into his world.
And that started right now.
Chapter Five
Stepping into the alley, Beckett took in the peach-infused clouds streaking across a wide, blue sky. A van pulled in outside of Calamity Joe’s. The driver hopped out and opened the side door, hauling out a box.
“Morning, Dave,” Coco said.
“Going to be a beautiful day,” the older man said.
“There’s nothing like June in Calamity.”
“Isn’t that so.” The man pulled open the door and headed inside the bustling coffee shop.
The crisp mountain air cleared Beckett’s head and gave him a little breathing room. “Friendly town.”
“I love it here. My sisters all moved away, but I’d always planned on staying here.”
“Never wanted to experience city life?”
She laughed, but it wasn’t full of joy. “Something like that. It’s a long story.”
“I’d like to hear it.”
At the end of the alley, they turned onto a quiet residential street, the kind where everyone mowed their lawns, painted their front doors, and maintained their gardens.
So unlike his rustic mountain cabin in Boulder.
“My mom—you’ll meet her when she brings Posie home—is a force of nature. Her goal in life was for each of us to find our passion. If we came home from school and said we were thinking about joining the debate team, the next thing we knew we were on a plane heading to D.C. to intern with a lobbyist.”
“Ah. So, you did a lot of traveling as a kid?”
“Well, my other sisters did a lot more. My older sister—actually, I didn’t want to tell you at the time, but Gigi Cavanaugh? She was the lead singer of the Lollipops—”
“Wait, that’s who was standing on the chair, toasting you?”
“Yep.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She stepped off the curb to cross the street. “Uh, because you’d just told me how you’d lost a piece of your soul by going to the concert?” She flashed a warm, sweet smile.
His blood turned hot and fizzy. “Is that what I said?” Damn, she was gorgeous. “I might’ve overreacted.”
“Oh, believe me, Gigi felt the same way. But she’s moved on. She’s got a new band now, and she’s performing her own songs.” They crossed a patch of crisp, green grass before heading down the sidewalk. “So, anyhow, since nothing really struck my fancy, I only had a stint in LA to work with a fashion photographer, and one in Manhattan, to help with Fashion Week.” She gestured to a dark-stained Craftsman-style house. It had a low-pitched roof and roomy porch, a paneled door and multi-paned stain glass windows. “This is it. This is home.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah, I really love it. I like that I can walk to work, and it’s just me and Posie, so it’s the perfect size. Plus, it was affordable.” They headed up the walkway.
“Sounds like you were into fashion.”
“I really wasn’t. I think I’ve just always known what I like, and it’s never had anything to do with what my friends were wearing. I had—”
“Flair.”
She smiled as they climbed the porch steps. “That’s a nice way to put it. I’ll take it.” She dug around her tote for her keys. “To my mom’s endless disappointment, I didn’t find my passion until I was out of college and on my own. Luckily, she had my other sisters to focus her energies on and left me alone.”
“Gigi was obviously into music.”
“Yep, and Lulu was into cooking. My youngest sister…” Her gaze flicked up. “Well, if anyone had style, it was her.”
He was getting a strange feeling about the youngest. The way Coco referred to her in the past tense…had something happened to her?
“It was a relief when my mom gave up on me, because I just wanted to be home.” Keys in her hand, she unlocked the door. It was still early enough that she had to flick on the lights.
Before entering, he took a moment to gaze out on her street. Beyond the two-story homes, the Teton Mountain Range loomed harsh and intimidating, its jagged peaks capped with snow. Then, he turned back and followed her inside.
Dark wood paneling matched the hardwood floors, and sunlight poured patches of color through the stained-glass windows. His gaze was drawn to the intricately carved features on the mantelpiece over the river rock fireplace.
Damn. This place is nice. He turned back to find her kicking off her flats, leaving them on a mat by the door, and he quickly followed suit. Untying his boots, he pulled them off, and set them beside the others. A pair of sparkly silver shoes caught his attention, and he crouched to pick one up. “It’s so tiny.”
“I know. And the thing of it is, she outgrows everything within a month. I hate it. Sometimes, I just want to stop time and let her be little and adorable forever.”
He remembered the initial wallop of attraction he’d felt that night in Vegas—and not just because of her beauty, though he did love that twist of funkiness in her otherwise fresh, girl-next-door look.
But it was the glint of mischief in her eyes that had caught his interest, an underlying sense that she got the joke. She was an old soul, someone who handled life’s twists and turns like a pro.
That’s it right there.
His mom had fallen apart. She’d handled grief by shutting down and abandoning her family. But Coco had an inner strength that commanded his attention.
That’s what I’m drawn to.
Which was a good thing to figure out, since he shouldn’t have these feelings for her. Not when he had a girlfriend.
Shit. Fiancée.
He was pretty sure it meant something that he had to keep reminding himself of that fact.
“How about I make some coffee? You’re welcome to have a look around.” She gestured to the framed photos lining the mantel and hanging on the walls. “I might have chronicled every moment of Posie’s life.”
“I see that. Noticed it in your office, too.”
He couldn’t help following her into the kitchen, though. Small, cozy, it had cherry wood cabinets and a row of cheerful flowers on the windowsill. And…was that…he headed over to the sink and picked up the Vegas sign he’d bought her. “You kept it?”
“I did.” Grinning, she came over to him. “This is the reason I went to Europe. It’s the reason I started my business. When you gave it to me, you said the next time I fake a smile, I should do something different.”
“Shake things up.” Their gazes locked. “I remember.”
He remembered everything. The feel of her warm, curvy body pressed up against his, the sexy gust of breath she’d make when he’d touch her right where she needed it, and holy shit did it stir him up.
And in that moment, he knew she remembered, too.
It was in the way she pressed her thighs together and the faraway look in her eyes that made her expression go lusty and hot.
She broke away first, plucking the sign out of his hand. “I keep it right here as my daily reminder.”
What the fuck, man? Stop thinking about her like that. He scraped off the memories to focus on what she was saying. “So, you went to Europe for a month and wound up taking chocolate classes. How’d that happen?”
She set the sign back on the windowsill. “Right. I started in Paris, but I still wasn’t over Keith ghosting me, so I pretty much ate my way through the city.
It seemed like there was a fancy chocolate shop on every corner, and by God, I went into each one.”
He liked listening to her, liked the animated way she told a story, the sparkle in her eyes, the gestures of her hands.
“They were just so pretty, but the thing I noticed is that they didn’t all taste the same. In fact, some didn’t taste much like anything. And that surprised me.” She brought the kettle from the stove to the sink and filled it. “There was this one tiny shop on Rue de Faubourg, and I was standing there savoring the most luscious, delicious bite of chocolate I’d ever had in my life, and the owner comes over and says, You like? And I said, What is it about this? What makes it so good? He started explaining how the beans have a different flavor depending on where they’re grown. I kept asking questions, and he told me about a chocolate class. It lasted twelve weeks, but I had all that savings, so I just went for it.”
“Even after you found out you were pregnant, you still stayed.”
“I did. I kept it to myself for a while.”
“Did you worry how your parents would take it?”
She set the kettle back on the stove and turned up the flame. “I mean, I figured they’d support me no matter what, but yeah, I knew I’d disappoint them. My mom wanted us to do great things with our lives.” She gazed out the window with a smile. “It took me a couple years to realize I’d done that—just not the way anyone expected.”
I’d done that. She had no idea how deeply her words resonated with him. Having Posie was her great thing, and it made his resolution to never have children seem…shallow. “When did you decide to make chocolate for a living?”
“I guess, from the moment I found out I was pregnant, I felt the pressure to come up with a plan. Would I go to grad school? Get a job? But, with either of those options, Posie would’ve been in daycare. And I just didn’t want that. I don’t know…it just hurt my heart to think about being away from my baby, not nursing and holding her, so at the end of that first class, I thought…why not start my own business? When Keith and I were thinking about our proposal, our main thought was, What does Calamity need? Well, it didn’t have a chocolate shop, so….why not? Worst thing that happens is I fail and have to get a full-time job. So, I went back to Laurent and talked to him about it, and he suggested I take this special class in Belgium.”