The Valentine Quest (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 5)

by Melissa McClone

  “This is not a timed event. You’ll be awarded points based on your effort,” Tim added. “Take selfies while doing the task, as well as when you’re passing out the chocolates to the residents.”

  Clifford wiggled his shoulders as if excited and ready to break out into a dance. “Don’t leave the shop until you hear the whistle.”

  Dustin rubbed his palms against his jeans. “This sounds easy.”

  “Have you ever made chocolate?” Nevada asked.

  “No. How about you?”

  “No.” Her gaze darted around the shop. “I don’t do much cooking unless a microwave or a panini maker are involved.”

  Her voice sounded hesitant. Almost timid.

  That wasn’t good.

  “Look at all the chocolate in the display case.” Hoping to calm her worries, Dustin pointed at the counter. “It can’t be that hard to make.”

  Tim blew a whistle. “Go.”

  Chairs scraped against the floor. People bolted for the door where Portia and Dakota stood and handed out envelopes.

  He stood. “And we’re off.”

  Nevada was already on her feet. “I don’t have a car.”

  “You can ride with me.”

  Portia handed Nevada an envelope and then gave him one. He handed it back.

  “We’re teaming up, so only need one,” he said.

  Two teams were in their cars and pulling away from the curb by the time he and Nevada reached his pickup truck.

  “Sage said there’s no time limit.” Nevada stared at the fading taillights. “I don’t know why they are rushing.”

  “Maybe they have another place to be afterward.”

  Or the two teams could be trying to establish themselves at the front of the pack. That was what he and Nevada should do to psych out other competitors.

  He opened the passenger door of his pickup. “Hop in.”

  She climbed up into the seat. “I’m used to walking in town.”

  “That’s because your sister lives close to Main Street. But when it gets so cold your teeth feel frozen, driving a couple of blocks makes sense. And you can’t get a nicer ride than this Ram truck.”

  He closed her door, walked around the front of the truck, hopped in, and started the engine. Country music filled the cab.

  “Does the little hula dancer on the dashboard add to the ride or is that just for show?”

  Her lighthearted and playful tone suggested the smart girl wasn’t as serious as she appeared to be.

  “A combination of both,” he replied.

  And a gift from a fellow competitor after Dustin had won the truck at a bull-riding event. A prize and a blessing. If he hit a rough patch or lost his job—something that had happened regularly to his dad when Dustin was growing up—he would always have this pickup to call home.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  Nevada opened the envelope. “Kindred Place.”

  “I’ve been there. The Bar V5 staff hosted a gingerbread-decorating night in December.” He pulled away from the curb. “The place is on Bramble Lane. Close enough to walk, but not when it’s so cold.”

  She held her gloved fingers in front of a vent. “The heat feels nice.”

  “Heat is good.” He made a left turn.

  Bet they could generate some heat of their own. An image of them fooling around on a sunny beach filled his mind. Skin against skin. Lips against lips. Sand, heat…

  His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. If he wasn’t careful, he would need to lower the temperature in the cab. “You said the grand prize made you change your mind.”

  “Yes.”

  “Ready for a vacation?”

  “No. I want to win so I can give the trip to my older brother, York. He’s leaving the air force this spring, and I thought he could use a nice vacation before starting a job in the civilian sector.”

  Her reason for entering impressed Dustin. “You’re a lot like your sister.”

  “Dakota and I live totally different lives.” Funny, but Nevada sounded almost offended.

  “Yes, but you both think of others and put them ahead of yourselves.”

  She shrugged. “I guess.”

  Her nonchalant reaction was weird. Everyone in town loved Dakota and all she did for others, both animals and humans. “Me? I’m just in this for myself.”

  Nevada laughed. “At least you’re honest.”

  Dustin nodded. The image of her with him in Fiji didn’t suck. Thinking about making out with her turned him on, but that would never happen. “When I win, I’m taking my bunkmate Eli. He’s a wrangler at the Bar V5, too.”

  Eli would be Dustin’s wingman when they hit the bar at the beach each night.

  He parked the truck. “Welcome to Kindred Place.”

  A heart-shaped flag hung on the front door of the old Victorian. A similar flag had flown outside Copper Mountain Chocolates tonight.

  She leaned closer to the window. “Nice old house.”

  “Many in town think so.” He turned off the engine. “High school kids have their prom pictures taken here. Some wedding parties do, too.”

  Dustin unfastened his seat belt. As he climbed out of the truck, the passenger door slammed. Guess Nevada wasn’t a stickler for manners, but nothing Dustin could do if a woman didn’t give him the chance to be polite.

  He closed his door.

  The nearest light in the parking area was out, but he could still see thanks to the others. The cool air sent a chill through him. He looked up. Smiled.

  No wonder the temperature had dropped. No clouds overhead. Only millions of stars.

  Nevada met him at the back of his pickup. “We should hurry.”

  “Look up.”

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  He pointed to the sky.

  She glanced up. Her mouth gaped. “Oh, my, look at all those stars.”

  “I bet you don’t see anything like that in New York City.”

  “The signs in Times Square are the closest thing.” She slowly spun. “Wow.”

  “There’s a falling star. Make a wish.” His wish was to win the Valentine Quest. “I made one.”

  Her brows drew together so those two lines returned above her nose. “You wish on stars?”

  “Of course.”

  “Wishes don’t come true.”

  “They won’t if you never make one,” he countered.

  “That sounds like a motivational or positive affirmation poster.”

  “It’s the plain truth.” She was like those city folks who came to the Bar V5 each summer. They wanted to have fun in the Wild West, but they couldn’t push aside their preconceived notions and let loose for a week. “Think of a wish.”

  The slant of her mouth told him she thought this was a stupid idea. Well, he could say the same thing about her wearing so much black.

  “Please,” he said.

  With a sigh, she closed her eyes and then opened them. “Okay, I did.”

  He wondered what she wished for—to win the quest or for a sexy cowboy like him to be with on Valentine’s Day. The race would be over by the night of the fourteenth. Plenty of time to have a little fun together—Cupid willing.

  “Come on. We’re wasting time.” Nevada walked toward the entrance. “Wishing isn’t going to get this done.”

  No. Dustin followed her. But wishing wouldn’t hurt.

  Chapter Five

  An hour later, standing in Kindred Place’s commercial kitchen, the smell of burnt chocolate brought a frown to Dustin’s face. He wanted a do-over wish on the falling star.

  Forget about wishing to win the grand prize. He should have wished for the skills to make heart-shaped chocolate candies.

  This task sucked.

  Nevada rinsed out the chocolate from the pan. “This is a mess.”

  “Like the spilled chocolate was earlier?”

  Her brows drew together. “I apologized for that. This isn’t as easy to do as it sounds.”

  Especially when ne
ither of them were comfortable in the kitchen or with each other. Aligning himself with Nevada hadn’t helped him at all. They’d had one mishap after another. If anything, she was holding him back.

  Not that he knew what he was doing, either.

  Only one other team, a married couple who hadn’t glanced his and Nevada’s direction since they had arrived, remained in the kitchen. The other two teams had finished and were passing out their chocolates to residents at the retirement home.

  “We’re going to need to make another batch,” Nevada said, as if he hadn’t realized that himself.

  Chances were the third batch would turn out like the first two—unusable.

  He took a breath, but that didn’t ease his growing frustration.

  Focus on one positive thing.

  A physical therapist had given him that advice after his third surgery.

  Dustin tried to think of one, but his mind came up empty.

  It shouldn’t be that hard. Finally, he thought of something. “At least Kathy isn’t here glaring at us.”

  “Thank goodness. She wouldn’t have liked seeing the scorched chocolate.”

  Kindred Place’s head cook, Kathy, lived in a cottage at the back of the house. She was a nice woman, but when Nevada spilled most of their first batch, Kathy’s sighs had been loud enough to be heard on Main Street. Thank goodness that she’d left the kitchen before they’d overcooked the second batch.

  Nevada glanced at the swinging door that led to the dining room and parlor. “The other teams are handing out their chocolates.”

  Was stating the obvious a habit or were nerves getting to her? Dustin wasn’t the nervous type, but their efforts on this task were laughable at best. That worried him. They should be killing this one.

  “Making heart-shaped candy shouldn’t be this difficult.” Using his phone, he searched the Internet for tips on molded chocolates. “We have to be missing a step.”

  Nevada held up the instruction sheet. “We’ve been following the directions exactly. I’ve checked multiple times.”

  “Check again.” He glanced down at his red apron, which was splattered and stained. “More chocolate has gotten on us than in the molds. That can’t be part of the directions.”

  “No—”

  Cheers erupted from the man and woman on the far side of the kitchen. The two gave each other high fives, and then the man carried a pink platter out of the kitchen.

  “That was their fourth batch, so we’re still ahead of them,” Nevada said.

  Dustin grimaced. “Except they’re finished, and we aren’t.”

  Nevada peered into their box of ingredients, which had been waiting for them when they arrived. “We have enough to make two more batches.”

  “And if we mess up those?”

  “At least we gave it our best shot. I don’t want to be kicked out of the race for failing to complete a task without at least trying.”

  “Me, either.”

  The kitchen door swung open. An elderly man with hunched shoulders held hands with a much shorter woman. Both had white hair, wrinkled faces, and big smiles.

  “What’s going on in here?” The elderly gentleman spoke in a loud voice. “Kathy said you made a real mess, and she’s right.”

  The woman nodded. “I hope you’re going to clean up before you go. Kathy works hard enough keeping us fed.”

  Dustin didn’t need hecklers from the sidelines watching them fail. “We will. That’s part of the rules.”

  Nevada nodded. “But that will come after we figure out what we’re doing wrong.”

  We was the wrong word.

  He would be better off on his own. That gave him an idea.

  Best to cut his losses now. They could each use the remaining ingredients to make a batch. No more teamwork or alliance. “Let’s each make our own batch.”

  “No, no, no.” The older woman stepped forward. She wasn’t tall, but her green eyes were sharp, clear, and focused on him. “You have to stick together. Doing it on your own is the easy way out.”

  She sounded disappointed.

  What did he care what a total stranger thought?

  “I’m all for easy,” Dustin admitted.

  The woman tsked. “Your attitude explains the high divorce rate in this country. No one wants to put in the effort to make a relationship work.”

  That described his parents. His father had said nothing could have saved their marriage. Dustin barely remembered his mother, so he only knew what his dad had told him. This woman, however, was implying he and Nevada were a couple.

  No way.

  He might have considered a fling, but that wasn’t going to happen during the quest and maybe not afterward. They didn’t work well together. That much was clear. “We’re not—”

  “Winter nights are colder when you’re alone,” the woman interrupted. Her gaze turned serious. “Laughter and determination are the two things you need to stick together.”

  The man nodded. “Adele knows what she’s talking about. We’ve been together sixty-seven years.”

  “That’s a long time.” Nevada sounded impressed.

  Dustin nodded, even though he had a better chance at winning the lottery than having a lasting relationship. Commitment was a four-letter word in his vocabulary. The one thing he’d committed himself to had been bull-riding, and look how that had turned out.

  But Adele didn’t know that or anything about him or Nevada.

  “Thanks for the advice.” Dustin hoped he sounded sincere, because he meant the words. He could imagine Adele saying the same words to her grandchildren. “Much appreciated.”

  Nevada nodded. “You’re sweet to share your wisdom, but we’re just—”

  “We were just, too, at one point. Maybe two. Or three.” Adele wagged her finger. “So don’t tell me you want to make your own chocolates. Working together when things get rough is the only way. Remember that. Now, tell me what went wrong with the first batch.”

  “First two,” Nevada admitted. The pink had returned to her cheeks. “This will be our third.”

  The man laughed. “Or fourth given how much you both are wearing.”

  “Oh, Harry. Give the kids a break. They’re trying.” Adele shook her head. “What was your problem the first time?”

  “I dropped the pot. We used what hadn’t spilled, but the chocolate stuck to the molds,” Nevada explained. “The second batched burned.”

  Harry sniffed. “That’s what I smell, huh?”

  Adele sighed with a what-am-I-going-to-do-with-him look that seemed to amuse her husband.

  “Don’t you worry.” Harry’s eyes twinkled. “Adele will have an answer for you shortly.”

  “I have one now,” his wife replied. “The scorching is due to melting the chocolate too quickly. Lower the temperature and go slower.”

  Harry nodded once. “Melting chocolate is like foreplay.”

  “That’s right,” Adele agreed. “The longer it takes, the more success you’ll have.”

  Nevada’s cheeks went from pink to the red color of her apron.

  Dustin’s face burned, too. Adele and Harry were old enough to be their grandparents. Maybe their great-grandparents. Not exactly who he expected to be talking about sex. He didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or jealous.

  “Now for the molds.” Adele tapped her fingertip against her chin. “It’s been a while since I made candy. We have a kitchenette in our unit, but we like eating Kathy’s meals in the dining room.”

  “Even so, Adele will figure out an answer.” Confidence filled Harry’s voice. “She always knows.”

  “Yes, I do.” Adele straightened. “Timing is everything when you’re working with chocolate. You must go slow during the melting process, but you must be quick when working with molds. If the chocolate gets stuck, put the mold in the freezer. Not for too long or you’ll end up with other problems, but the cold temperature will harden the chocolate, so you can remove it.”

  Nevada gathered the ingred
ients for the next batch. “Let’s try it.”

  Dustin liked her renewed enthusiasm, but he hesitated. What Adele said didn’t sound unreasonable, but she could be wrong. Still, he didn’t want to be rude to them or to Nevada.

  “Okay.” He would try to do this with Nevada once more. If this didn’t work, he was making his own chocolates. No matter what Adele thought.

  “Go slow,” Adele reminded. She and Harry walked to the other side of the kitchen. “We’ll stand over here, so we don’t get in your way.”

  Forty minutes later, Dustin stared at the perfectly formed chocolate hearts. “It worked.”

  “Of course it worked,” Adele said without missing a beat.

  Harry nodded.

  “The chocolates look fantastic.” The happiness in Nevada’s voice matched the gleam in her eyes. She looked at Adele. “Thank you for the help.”

  “Now it’s your turn to help someone else.”

  Just not one of our competitors, Dustin thought to himself.

  “We need to take photos,” Nevada said to him.

  He leaned closer to her and held out his cell phone. “One, two, three… Smile.”

  Dustin took the picture of the two of them with the plate of chocolates to provide evidence that they’d completed the task. “Now we can pass them out.”

  Nevada picked up the plate. “The first two go to Adele and Harry.”

  The helpful couple each took one.

  “Remember… stick together,” Adele said.

  For now.

  His alliance with Nevada hadn’t been a total disaster, but suggesting they work together when he knew so little about her or what was required during the tasks had been premature.

  At the first sign of trouble tomorrow, he would be ready to bail. He hoped she understood when that happened because he had a feeling they would be on their own sooner rather than later.

  And a part of him hoped much sooner.

  *

  After returning the box of supplies to the chocolate shop, Nevada zipped up her jacket, tugged her beanie lower over her ears, and walked outside. The temperature had dropped more, and she shivered. A good thing Dakota didn’t live that far away.