Smitten with Croissants

by Ellen Jacobson

  “Ouch,” I say. “You must have landed on something sharp.”

  “Yep. I had a replica of the knife Han Solo used in the original Star Wars movie. Turns out those things aren’t made out of plastic. I ended up needing surgery, so I was out of rugby for the rest of the season.”

  I squeeze his hand. “Oh, you poor thing.”

  “You want to kiss it and make it better?” he asks with a wink.

  I pour him some more water instead, and we spend the rest of the evening talking about marmots, Star Wars, and skydiving.

  16

  Believe

  “Everything looks wonderful, chérie,” Amélie says.

  I look around the art gallery with a critical eye. It’s the night of the opening reception for the photography exhibition. There’s nothing more I can do. The photographs have been hung, the catalog has been printed, and the catering is set up. Now, all that remains is to open the doors and let the guests in.

  I spend the evening making sure glasses are filled with champagne, answering questions about the work on display, and handing out brochures about the animal shelter that we’re raising funds for. I even arrange for some dogs to be adopted. Dominic will be providing a home to not one, but two Chihuahuas, and Pierre’s mother has taken a liking to a German Shepard-Beauceron cross.

  Giselle is there too. She shows an interest in the picture of a bichon frise puppy, but I tell her the dog isn’t available. He is, but Giselle is the type of person who has pets because they look cute in her handbag, not because she has a genuine interest in their well being.

  I can tell that she’s annoyed with me because I hear her tell her friends that my unsophisticated American palate could never appreciate escargot. Giving her a haughty look, I snatch one of the slimy snails from a tray and pop it into my mouth. I’m prepared to smile my way through this disgusting morsel when, to my surprise, I discover that escargot are delicious. Garlic and butter—what’s not to love?

  I grab a few more and put them on a plate along with some other hors d’oeuvres. Roaming around the gallery, I see Pierre standing with his mother in front of the photographs that were taken at the Voodoo Hoodoo the day Dominic was inking a marmot on Pierre’s shoulder.

  I have to confess that I eavesdrop on their conversation. Gladys recognizes Pierre’s back. At first, she’s taken aback that he had gotten a tattoo of an elephant without telling her. He explains to her that it was a reminder of the work that he does with African orphanages. She purses her lips, then her expression softens when he tells her that the yellow-bellied marmot is in her honor, of the day she said yes to his father’s proposal and became not only his dad’s wife but also Pierre’s mother.

  Slipping away unnoticed, I mingle among the guests. As a couple from Sri Lanka tell me that they want to buy the photographs which were taken at the Voodoo Hoodoo, a woman asks for everyone’s attention.

  “Mia, Mia, where are you?” Amélie calls out. I raise my hand meekly. “Come up here, please.”

  As I make my way to join her, Jean-Paul congratulates me on the success of the reception

  When I get to the front of the art gallery, Amélie hands me a glass of champagne. She raises her own glass and makes a toast. “I want to thank Mia, the talented young woman from America, who is responsible for this evening. This exhibition wouldn’t have happened without her. The Galérie d’Art Animalier are lucky to have her.”

  As I take a sip of champagne, Pierre’s mother makes her way through the crowd.

  When she reaches me, she says in English, “It’s not just the Galérie d’Art Animalier who are fortunate to have Mia. It is also everyone at the Hôtel de la Marmotte who are grateful to have her in our midst. And now I would like to present her with a small token of our gratitude.”

  As a bellboy presents me with a yellow duckie, I grin at Gladys de Dakota du Nord.

  * * *

  Pierre grabs my hand. “Come with me.”

  As he leads me toward the back room, I laugh. “No, I don’t think so, mister. We can’t go play smoochy-face while there’s a reception happening out here.”

  “Making out with you?” He shakes his head. “That is the last thing I had on my mind.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I say. Then I do a double take. “Wait a minute, are you saying you don’t want to kiss me? What? Do I have escargot between my teeth?”

  He laughs. “This has nothing to do with snails. No, I have something for you back here.”

  “Okay,” I say dubiously.

  “Sit here,” he says, pointing at a stool in the corner. Then he reaches behind the canvases stacked in the corner and pulls out a large box.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s called a present. Can’t you tell from the awesome gift wrapping?”

  He places the box on the table behind me. I swivel my stool around and smile when I see the R2-D2 and C-3PO pattern on the wrapping paper. “What is it?”

  “You don’t seem to be very familiar with how presents work.” He taps the large gold bow on top of the box. “You remove the ribbon, tear the paper off, and rip the box open to reveal its contents.”

  I do as he recommends—untying ribbon, tearing paper, and ripping the box open. My eyes widen when I see what’s inside. “Is this what I think it is?”

  “Again, confused about how this process works. After opening the box, you remove the object inside and inspect it.”

  I chew on my lip, undecided about what to do.

  Pierre leans down and whispers in my ear. “It’s just a present. It doesn’t mean anything other than the fact that I love you. I’m not trying to control you or buy you off. Although, if you like it, a thank-you kiss wouldn’t go amiss.”

  As I gingerly pull Pierre’s gift out of the box, a huge smile creeps across my face. “This is a custom-made lightsaber.”

  “Don’t forget the titanium handle,” he says. “Do you like it?”

  “Like it? I love it.” I hop down from the stool and swing the lightsaber back and forth. “Oh, my gosh, it feels fantastic.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” Pierre grins and taps his cheek. “Does it deserve a kiss?”

  “Let me think about it.” I twirl around, sweeping the lightsaber in circles around me. Mesmerized by the way the light glistens off the blade, I’m oblivious to where I’m pointing my lightsaber. A crashing noise startles me, and I yelp as a ceramic statue tumbles off the table.

  Pierre dives, sliding across the floor, and catching it just inches before it would have been smashed into smithereens. After he places it back on the table, I set my lightsaber against the stool. Standing on my tiptoes, I plant a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, I love it.”

  He turns my head toward me and brushes his lips gently against mine. “And I love you.”

  After a few minutes of toe-curling kisses, I say, “There’s something I wanted to show you.” He winks as I unbutton the sleeve of my blouse. “No, silly, it’s not that. It’s this.”

  He lifts my wrist and smiles. “Is that what I think it is? A tattoo?”

  “Uh-huh. Dominic did it for me the other night. See what it says?”

  Pierre traces his fingers gently around the tattoo. “Believe.”

  “That word means a lot to me,” I say. “Believe in myself, believe in my dreams, and believe in—”

  Pierre finishes my sentence for me. “Believe in love.”

  Then we play smoochy-face.

  17

  Epilogue - Pierre

  I furrow my brow as Mia adjusts the straps on her parachute. “Make sure they’re tight.”

  Mia smiles at me. “Stop fussing. I know what I’m doing. It’s been almost a year since I did my first tandem jump with you, and I’ve had plenty of training and practice since then.”

  “It’s been exactly one year since that first time we went skydiving together,” I say. “This is our skydiving anniversary.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a day we want to celebrate.” Mia frowns. “That fig
ht we had was horrible.”

  “It was all my fault,” I say. “I overreacted when you told me you had been married before.”

  “No, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.” She squeezes my arm. “At least you didn’t have an embarrassing misunderstanding like I did. Can you believe I thought you were going to propose to me when we landed?”

  I suppress a smile. “Yeah. What a crazy idea, huh?”

  “Enough rehashing of the past,” Mia says. “It’s time to jump out of a plane.”

  The door opens, cold air rushes in, and I feel goosebumps all over my body. The goosebumps aren’t a new sensation—I feel them every time I’m about to skydive. But this time, they’re a reminder of how nervous I am for this particular jump. This is the jump that could change everything.

  I watch as Mia steps out of the plane. It’s hard to believe that only a year ago she was afraid of flying. Now she can’t wait to get back up in the air and go skydiving. As I follow her, a huge grin spreads across my face. Sharing my passion for skydiving with the woman I love is more than I could have ever hoped for.

  After we land and remove our gear, Stefan walks toward us with a spaniel-mix puppy bounding alongside him.

  “Who is this cutie-pie?” Mia asks.

  “His name is Yoda,” Stefan says.

  “Yoda? I didn’t think you were a Star Wars fan,” Mia says.

  Stefan shakes his head. “I’m not.”

  Mia cocks her head to one side. “Then why did you name your dog after a Star Wars character?”

  “I didn’t,” Stefan says, giving me a sideways glance.

  I clear my throat. “I named him. He came from the animal shelter.”

  “He’s adorable,” Mia says. “It’s great that you’re going to give him a good home.”

  “Um . . . I was hoping we would give him a good home.” I nod at Stefan and he unclips Yoda’s leash.

  Mia gives me a quizzical look as the puppy runs toward her. She bends down and grins as he licks her repeatedly on the face. As she scratches Yoda’s head, she asks, “What’s this attached to his collar?”

  “Why don’t you have a look?” I take a deep breath while she unties the small velvet pouch from Yoda’s collar. As she opens it, I kneel on the ground next to her. She gasps as she peeks inside.

  “Is this what I think it is?” she asks.

  Her hands are trembling, so I take the pouch from her and pull out a diamond ring. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, Mia?”

  She looks up at me, her eyes glistening with tears, and nods.

  While I slip the ring onto her finger, Yoda runs in circles around the two of us, barking excitedly.

  Mia laughs, then pulls the dog into her lap. “You didn’t have to bribe me with a puppy. I would have said yes, anyway.”

  “But it didn’t hurt, did it?” I rub the dog’s silky ears. “He was one of a litter of three who were abandoned.”

  “You mean there are two other puppies who need homes? We should adopt them.” When I raise my eyebrows, she quickly adds, “What should we name them? Leia and Luke? Or should we go with Han and Lando? Maybe Rey—”

  I silence her with a gentle kiss. “Enough Star Wars talk.”

  She kisses me back, then says, “You know we’re going to have a Star Wars-themed wedding, don’t you?”

  “I’d expect nothing less,” I say dryly.

  Then we play smoochy-face again.

  * * *

  I hope you enjoyed reading Mia and Pierre’s story. If you’d like to find out what happens to Isabelle in Germany, check out Smitten with Strudel. You can grab a copy at your favorite retailer HERE.

  Author’s Note

  Thank you so much for reading my book! If you enjoyed it, I’d be grateful if you would consider leaving a short review on the site where you purchased it and/or on Goodreads. Reviews help other readers find my books while also encouraging me to keep writing.

  The Smitten with Travel romantic comedy series is inspired by my experiences living as an ex-pat for many years in Scotland and New Zealand and my travels, including my own “happily ever after” when my now-husband and I eloped to Denmark, followed by our honeymoon in Paris.

  France holds a special place in my heart, and not just because my hubby and I honeymooned there. I first traveled to Europe when I was eighteen and Paris was one of the highlights of that trip. The food (especially the croissants), the architecture, the museums, the fashion—it was amazing, if not a bit overwhelming, to a girl from Cleveland.

  I had the opportunity to see more of France in subsequent trips and fell in love with the southern part of the country. When I was writing this novel, my husband said, “Hey, remember when we ate cassoulet in Carcassonne? Remember how much we loved it? You should include that in your book.” So I did. Because he was right. Cassoulet is to die for. Having it in the fairy-tale setting of Carcassonne? Even better.

  I want to thank Scott Jacobson (my cassoulet-loving husband), Duwan Dunn, and Greg Sifford for beta reading. Their insightful suggestions and feedback were invaluable. Sophie-Leigh Robbins and Mary Kelly Reed reviewed the French passages in this manuscript and offered invaluable advice (any grammatical mistakes are, of course, mine). Many thanks as well to my editor, Beth Balmanno, for her keen eye and thoughtful edits.

  And, of course, I couldn’t do this without you—my wonderful readers. Your support and encouragement means everything. I love to hear from readers, so please feel free to drop me an email at ellenjacobsonauthor@gmail.com.

  About the Author

  Ellen Jacobson is a chocolate obsessed cat lover who writes cozy mysteries and romantic comedies. After living on a sailboat for many years, she now travels around in a teeny-tiny camper with her husband and an imaginary cat named Simon.

  Her Mollie McGhie cozy mystery series, featuring a reluctant sailor turned amateur sleuth, is inspired by her own sailing adventures and misadventures living aboard sailboats in New Zealand and the States.

  Her Smitten with Travel romantic comedy series is inspired by her life as an expat in Scotland and New Zealand and passion for exploring new countries and learning about new cultures.

  Find out more at ellenjacobsonauthor.com

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  Also by Ellen Jacobson

  The Mollie McGhie Sailing Mystery Series

  Robbery at the Roller Derby (Prequel Novella)

  Murder at the Marina (Book #1)

  Bodies in the Boatyard (Book #2)

  Poisoned by the Pier (Book #3)

  Buried by the Beach (Book #3.5)

  Dead in the Dinghy (Book #4)

  Shooting by the Sea (Book #5)

  Overboard on the Ocean (Book#6)

  The Mollie McGhie Sailing Mysteries: Cozy Mystery Collection, Books 1-3

  The Smitten with Travel Romantic Comedy Series

  Smitten with Ravioli (Book #1)

  Smitten with Croissants (Book #2)

  Smitten with Strudel (Book #3)