“Family.”
She nodded.
York knew that was important to her. “I get that part, but you didn’t trust me with the truth. You told me pieces, but left off the most significant detail. You may not think you lied or did anything wrong, but everyone at the shop feels differently.”
“Including you?”
He nodded. “I care about you, too.”
There, he’d said it. So why didn’t he feel better?
“If you care, then why did you need proof to believe I hadn’t stolen information?”
A beat passed. And another.
He didn’t—couldn’t—answer because he hadn’t wanted to believe her. “It doesn’t matter. We were going to be saying goodbye soon enough anyway.”
Her face fell. “There is a connection between us.”
“One that has nowhere to go.”
Her lip trembled again. “You said I wasn’t someone you were just spending time with.”
“I was wrong.”
“Now who’s being dishonest?” She blinked. Once, twice. “I see what you’re doing.”
“What?”
“You’re using this as a reason to walk away.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Be honest.” Her gaze didn’t waver. “You admitted you care, but you have more feelings, too. Ones you don’t want, so you’re looking for a reason, an excuse to put an end to us, so you can be free to do whatever you want, whenever you want, with whomever you want.”
She had lost it. He shook his head. Big time.
“You’re reading way too much into a vacation romance,” York said. “One that never had a chance of turning into something more. Did you really think we were going to end up together?”
She flinched as if he’d hit her. The raw hurt in her eyes made him wish he could take back his words, but it was too late.
Chantelle squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “The romantic in me got carried away. I see that now. This was never going anywhere. It hardly had time to get started. I should have left Marietta as I planned and not stuck around.”
His jaw twitched, his chest felt heavy, and his sinuses burned.
York looked for a sign she had doubts, regrets, anything, but that lower lip of hers no longer moved. She was steady and solid and no longer his.
He swallowed. “Then there’s nothing left to say except goodbye.”
With his heart pounding in his chest like a bass drum, he walked out of her room without looking back. The slam of the door punctuated the end of them.
The end.
York should be relieved it was over. Nothing would tie him down now. He would have the freedom he wanted.
Except…he hurt.
Not just his heart. All over. And badly.
But what else could he have said to her except goodbye?
*
As soon as the door closed, Chantelle leaned her back against the wall and slid to the floor in a heap.
His words swirled through her mind like a cyclone.
She hugged her knees, feeling as if her world had been turned upside down. Okay, not really. She’d only known York for a short time.
But she’d developed feelings for him.
Strong ones she’d never expected to feel. Different ones from what she’d ever felt before.
Love.
She was certain that was the only thing it could be.
She’d fallen in love with him.
It doesn’t matter.
But it did to her.
He mattered.
Her eyes stung, but she blinked back the tears. Crying would only make her feel worse. She needed to get her things together so she could get out of Marietta. That would be her first step toward moving to France.
That was what she wanted.
France.
Her breath hitched.
Tears welled in her eyes.
Chantelle wanted York, too.
She looked up at the ceiling. That didn’t stop her eyes from stinging. Blinking didn’t stop the tears from falling.
She wiped her face.
Her fault.
She’d done this to herself. She hadn’t believed she was doing anything wrong at the chocolate shop, but everyone else thought she had. Even though she’d known not to get involved romantically, she’d fallen in love with a man who wanted nothing to do with her.
Stupid.
That was what she’d been.
S-T-U-P-I-D.
Thank goodness she had her family. Chantelle was a Delacroix, and she’d finally found strength in that and in herself. She could get through anything, including a broken heart.
At least, she hoped so.
*
Sitting at the kitchen table, York rested his head on his hands. Sleep hadn’t come last night. He was running on a mix of caffeine and sheer willpower.
No chocolate.
He wasn’t sure he could eat another piece of the stuff. It reminded him too much of Chantelle.
Be honest. You admitted you care, but you have more feelings, too. Ones you don’t want, so you’re looking for a reason, an excuse to put an end to us, so you can be free to do whatever you want, whenever you want, with whomever you want.
Her words had been melded on his brain in a never-ending audio loop he wanted to turn off, but couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried.
“Hey.” Dakota placed a plate of pancakes in front of him. “Eat something. Please.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
She nudged the plate closer until he had to straighten. “Just a couple of bites. You didn’t have dinner last night. I’m worried about you, and so is Nevada.”
York took a bite but couldn’t taste anything, not even the maple syrup. He might as well be eating paper. “Satisfied?”
“No.” Concern clouded Dakota’s eyes. She sat across from him. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
He’d never felt this way before, not even when Jillian told him to keep his engagement ring. That she wouldn’t leave her family in Texas and move to Maryland with him.
They’d dated for nearly a year. He’d known Chantelle for what? Almost two weeks?
But the length of time hadn’t mattered. Like Adam in Fiji, York had fallen for Chantelle. That was the last thing he’d wanted to happen. He should be relieved it was over. Now he wouldn’t have to figure out how to keep seeing her once they left Marietta.
Breaking up was a good thing.
Or should be.
Except a black hole resided where his heart should be.
Why?
Why couldn’t he stop feeling this way?
That was something he couldn’t reconcile.
“York.”
The sound of Dakota’s voice brought him back. “I’m fine.”
She laughed. “Liar.”
York ate another forkful of pancakes so he wouldn’t have to talk. Chew. Swallow. Repeat. If he did that enough times, he’d finish everything on his plate.
His sister leaned over the table. “She lied to all of us. That hurts. I know you guys were friends.”
She.
Chantelle.
Her name didn’t bring a pang. He felt as if a drone had rammed into his chest and sent him plunging off a six-hundred-foot cliff. “She was way more than a friend.”
“What?”
“We’ve been dating.”
“How long?”
“Pretty much from the moment we met.”
Dakota touched his arm. “Are you in love with her?”
His instinct was to say no. Except he couldn’t.
“I…” York stared at what remained on his plate. “It doesn’t matter.”
She squeezed his forearm. “Of course it matters. Love trumps everything.”
“Not family. Mine or hers.”
Dakota dragged her teeth over her lower lip. “If you wanted to try—”
“You said I couldn’t trust her.” The words came out harsher than he’d intended.
Dakota’s nose scrunched. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Yesterday was crazy. Emotions were out of control.”
“They don’t have to be today. Chantelle showed me the report she sent her uncle. She didn’t steal anything from Sage. She would never do anything like that, but I didn’t take her side in this. I didn’t believe her. I needed proof.”
“I had no idea you and Chantelle were that close.”
Close as in spending time together. Holding hands. Kissing. That had been enough because there was more to come. Or so he’d thought.
“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated.
“You’re miserable.”
The word didn’t begin to describe how he felt. “I’ll get over it.”
“Are you sure about that?” Dakota’s worry was clear, but this time, he couldn’t make his sister feel better.
Instead, York chose not to answer. He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Thanks for breakfast. I have to get ready for work.”
A day of pure torture to be surrounded by chocolate and not have Chantelle there.
“York.”
“Not now.” He stood and walked out of the kitchen.
Not ever.
*
In her hotel room, Chantelle packed her suitcase. The flights were still sold out, so her cousin had chartered a plane. That way, she could leave town today instead of tomorrow.
She folded her pink cardigan sweater. The last time she’d worn this was when they’d decided to be more than friends.
You’re beautiful, smart, funny, and so many other things.
York’s compliment had made her feel like the most special woman in the world. At least in his world. He’d been special to her, too, but now…
A lump burned in her throat. Her breath caught. Tears stung her eyes.
She blinked.
No more crying.
Chantelle clutched the sweater to her chest. Memories threatened to overwhelm her.
No.
Once she got back to her apartment, she could fall apart. Until then, she had to keep herself together. It would be a long day of traveling, and Philippe deserved a somewhat-sane travel companion. Being an emotional mess on the inside was one thing. Letting her cousin see that?
No way.
He’d seen enough last night.
She thought about tossing the sweater in the garbage can, but shoved it and a pair of jeans in her suitcase instead.
A knock sounded on her door.
Chantelle hadn’t called for a bellhop, and Philippe said he’d text before he came over.
She checked the peephole, but only saw a woman with brown hair. Must be housekeeping. Though she thought she’d put the Do Not Disturb sign out. She opened the door.
Dakota and Nevada Parker stood there.
Chantelle gripped the door handle. Her throat tightened.
The two women weren’t smiling. If anything, they looked tense. Exactly how she felt right now.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.
“Do you have a minute?” Dakota asked.
Talking was the last thing Chantelle wanted to do, but a part of her was curious about why the two were here. She couldn’t imagine York sent them.
Chantelle took a breath and then another. “I have a minute.”
Nevada looked to her left and right. “Can we come in?”
Chantelle opened the door wider in a silent invitation.
The two sisters walked in.
The room was a disaster area. Two pillows were on the floor. Her suitcase lay open on top of the tangled sheets on the bed. Clothes were piled next to it.
To be honest, Chantelle didn’t care. She had a feeling the room looked better than she did.
She stood by the dresser and crossed her arms over her chest.
Nevada looked at Dakota, who took a deep breath.
Tension filled the room.
Chantelle’s patience disappeared. “If you have something to say, please say it. I need to finish packing.”
“York is miserable,” Dakota said.
“You don’t look too great yourself,” Nevada added.
Chantelle shrugged. At least she wasn’t the only one suffering, but that feeling was short-lived. She didn’t want York to be miserable and feel the way she did. Chantelle wouldn’t wish that on her worst enemy. She wanted him to be happy and have a giant, heart-melting smile on his face.
Because of her.
Not. Going. To. Happen.
She raised her chin. “There’s nothing I can do about that.”
“That’s why we’re here.” Regret filled Dakota’s words. “To see if we can help.”
“I think you’ve done enough.” Chantelle tried to keep any bitterness she might feel out of her voice. She wasn’t sure she succeeded.
“I needed to support Sage. Help her. I was hurt. Angry. But now I…we…have to try,” Dakota said. “I’ve never seen York like this. He’s not eating.”
Nevada nodded. “Or sleeping. He won’t talk to us about it.”
The words “not my problem” were on the tip of Chantelle’s tongue, but she couldn’t say them. “Once he starts his new job, he’ll be so busy he won’t have time to think about anything. He’ll be back to his old self before you know it.”
Dakota shook her head. “I don’t think so. This is different. He’s never not talked to us about stuff. I think—”
“We think York is in love with you,” Nevada blurted.
Dakota glared at her sister.
“What?” Nevada shrugged. “It needed to be said.”
No, it didn’t.
Chantelle could barely breathe. She forced air into her lungs. “I know you care about your brother, but York is not in love with me.”
If he was, he would have trusted her without needing proof. He would have never walked away from her the way he did.
“He’s a great guy, but whatever was between us is over. And that’s for the best.” Somehow, she managed to keep her tone steady. “My cousin and I are flying to Boston today. We’ll pack up my things there, and then go on to France to be with my family.”
She stumbled on the last word because York felt like family. “I need to finish packing.”
“Talk to him, please,” Dakota urged. “Even if it’s just to say goodbye again.”
Chantelle was tempted, except it might make her heart hurt more. “We’ve said our goodbyes.”
“Doing this might give you and him better closure,” Nevada said.
“And if it doesn’t?” Chantelle asked.
Dakota opened her mouth.
“You can relocate to France and not have to wonder ‘what if,’” Nevada said before her sister could answer.
Nevada was smart, and what she said made sense, but Chantelle wasn’t ready to say yes. “I need to finish packing. I’ll see if I have time when I’m done.”
That was as much as she was willing to commit.
Was seeing York again going to make a difference? What if his sisters were wrong? What if he didn’t want to see her? But what if he did?
“Is he at your house?” she asked Dakota.
“He’s working at the chocolate shop this morning.”
Chantelle’s heart fell. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go back there. I promised Philippe I wouldn’t because it would only upset Sage.”
Chapter Thirteen
A little before ten o’clock, York arrived at the chocolate shop. This was normally Dakota’s day to work, but she would be coming in later. A pot of hot chocolate simmered on the burner behind the counter and filled the store with the most amazing aroma, as usual.
Everything was the same as it had been except for one thing. The place seemed different without Chantelle’s smiling face next to him.
He went into the kitchen area to grab an apron. “Good morning.”
Sage stood at a table pouring chocolate into flower-shaped molds. Those had been big sellers for Mother’s Day, but continued to be popul
ar for gifts and wedding favors. The fact he knew that told him how far he’d come since his first day at the shop with Chantelle.
“You look tired. Get any sleep last night?” Sage asked.
No, but he wasn’t about to tell his boss that. “A little.”
Maybe an hour or so. He’d spent most of the night tossing and turning. The hurt on Chantelle’s face was etched on his brain. Nothing would take it away.
He put on an apron. “I’ll get everything ready out front.”
“York,” Sage called.
He turned.
“You and Chantelle seemed close,” Sage said. “That doesn’t just go away after you say goodbye.”
He nodded. The problem was no one knew how close he and Chantelle had gotten. And he’d liked it that way. No pressure from his mom or questions from his sisters or gossip from any of the nosy folks around town.
Though she’d told her family about him. That had surprised York, but he had no doubt her feelings for him had been real.
He also knew she hadn’t been spying. Yes, he’d seen the proof, but he should have known better than to ask. That wasn’t the kind of person Chantelle Cummings was. Even though she’d done everything she could to help them, everyone she’d met here believed the worst of her.
Including him.
York was used to things going from one step to the next. If something didn’t work, he debugged the line of code and moved on. It was a plan that made logical sense.
Nothing about Chantelle made sense.
She was impossible to figure out.
The bell on the door jingled.
He smiled. “Welcome to Copper Mountain Chocolates.”
A young couple ordered two hot chocolates to go. As he prepared the drinks, York hoped this would be a busy day so the time would go faster.
He’d only been here a few minutes, but he wanted his shift to be over. This would be his last day now that Rosie was back in town. The end couldn’t come soon enough.
As he stirred the pot of hot chocolate on the burner, the bell on the door jingled.
He forced a smile. “Welcome to Copper Mountain Chocolates.”
The greeting was automatic, and he hoped he sounded friendly. He’d given up all hopes of being cheery.
The Chocolate Touch (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 8) Page 17