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

by Melissa McClone

  “That’s fantastic.” Walt clapped. “We’ll celebrate with an apple pie from the Copper Mountain Gingerbread and Dessert Factory.”

  Bryce raised Dakota’s hand and kissed the top. “That’s one of my favorites. Sara Maria can bake pies like no other, though Dakota has been practicing.”

  Dakota beamed. “Well, you like pie so much it’s the least I can do.”

  Bryce leaned over and kissed her on the lips. “Thank you.”

  Nevada no longer allowed herself the luxury of thinking about being in love, but she liked seeing her sister so happy and content. A part of her hoped to someday feel the same joy written on Dakota’s face whenever she was with Bryce.

  Maybe Dakota had found her Mr. Right even though Bryce had started off stubborn and self-centered. He didn’t come across that way now and used the pronoun “we” more than “I.”

  “Just ignore the two love birds,” Walt said to Nevada with a smile. “Once they start making goo-goo eyes at each other, it’s best to leave them alone.”

  Bryce sighed. “Dad…”

  “It’s true,” Walt said.

  Dakota laughed. “Your dad is right.”

  Grinning, Bryce placed his arm around the back of Dakota’s chair. “He usually is. Especially where you’re concerned.”

  “Did you hear that, Walt?” Dakota asked.

  Walt nodded. His blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “I wish I’d had my cell phone out to record him saying that, but at least I have witnesses.”

  Nevada laughed. She wouldn’t put anything past the man who spoiled his sweet dog Scout and cute rat Pierre.

  Having dinner with the two Grayson men reminded her of when their family got together. That hadn’t happened since her parents set sail, but her mom had mentioned them coming to Marietta in May when York was here. Maybe by then, Dakota and Bryce would be engaged. That way, the focus would be on wedding planning, not finding Nevada a boyfriend.

  “So, how is teaming with Dustin?” Bryce asked.

  Dustin’s smiling face as he held the sleeping cat popped into Nevada’s mind. Her pulse picked up speed. “The first night was rough, but today went better.”

  She hoped tomorrow was easier on Dustin’s knee and that they continued to move up in the standings.

  “Just be careful.” Walt reached for the pie on the counter behind him and placed it on the table. “Dustin is a nice guy, but he’s a cowboy and not the settling-down type.”

  Unbelievable. Marietta was full of cupid-wannabes.

  She’d heard from Dakota about Walt playing matchmaker with her and Bryce. That seemed to have worked out well, but this was different. Better make sure everyone understood that.

  Nevada kept a smile on her face. “Dustin and I are just helping each other out during the tasks. Nothing else.”

  Even though she couldn’t forget how he’d held her on his back. His arms and hands on her thighs. That had been a turn-on. She’d been worried he’d drop her, but he hadn’t even though his knee hurt.

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Dakota sliced the pie. “Dustin is the kind of guy who makes a great friend but a lousy boyfriend. No woman is going to tame him. Oh, she might lasso him for a time as Daisy did, but he’s like the bulls he used to ride. Wild and unpredictable.”

  “I’m not a cowboy who rides bulls, but you could have said something similar about me back in November,” Bryce said. “Cut the guy some slack.”

  “Let’s not.” The words burst from Nevada’s mouth.

  Three pairs of eyes focused on her. Uh-oh.

  Dakota’s gaze narrowed. “Why?”

  Her sister would be the one to ask. Nevada swallowed around the massive heart-shaped lump in her throat. “I’m not interested in dating, and even if I were, can you imagine Dustin and me together?”

  “No, I can’t,” Dakota admitted, even though Nevada had intended the question to be rhetorical. “The two of you have nothing in common.”

  Not exactly true, but an unfamiliar weight pressed down on Nevada’s chest because, like it or not, she was attracted to Dustin. That feeling had only grown today when she saw him compete in pain during the obstacle course and give so much love to the cats at the rescue when he was hurting.

  Dustin was the definition of charming, but she couldn’t allow herself to fantasize. Daydreaming about the sexy cowboy would be dangerous. “We’re total opposites.”

  A satisfied smile settled on Dakota’s face. “It’s a relief to hear there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Nothing at all.” Nevada forced the words past her dry lips. “Can I please have a slice of pie?”

  *

  Standing outside Paradise Books on Sunday morning, Dustin waited for Nevada to arrive. He adjusted his thick gloves. The temperature wasn’t as cold as the past two days, but his breath still hung in the air. He tested putting his full weight on his left leg.

  Not bad.

  The raw, knife-edged ache in his knee had turned into a dull throb. A good thing he’d skipped going to Grey’s last night to stay in the bunkhouse and ice his knee. He could compete now.

  But win?

  That was the question. Especially with his alliance with Nevada still being a wild card.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  He turned toward the sound of her voice and did a double-take. The ends of two braids hung out the bottom of her green hat, but she was also wearing a pink jacket. “You’re not wearing black.”

  She held out her gloved hands. “These are black and so are my boots.”

  “I meant your jacket.”

  Nevada glanced down as if to remember what she was wearing. “Oh, the coat belongs to Dakota. She said that photos are being taken, so I shouldn’t dress like I was headed to a funeral.”

  Good for Dakota. But, honestly, no one would think funeral given the way Nevada’s jeans fit. This pair wasn’t as faded as yesterday’s, but the denim clung to her the same. He’d held onto those jean-clad legs. Sexy was the only way to describe them.

  “The color suits you.” His gaze slid from her green hat to her black boots. “You look ready for Valentine’s Day.”

  Dustin expected a smile, but he didn’t get one.

  She looked at her boots. “It’s just a jacket.”

  “It could be a lucky jacket and what we need to put ourselves into first place.”

  She shook her head. “Let’s see what the tasks are before we start talking about first place.”

  “Having confidence is a good thing.”

  “Sometimes being the underdog is an advantage.”

  “Or it can lead to a blowout.” He held open the door to the bookstore. “After you.”

  Contestants crowded into the small shop, which was owned by a sweet, gray-haired woman named Lesley who’d filled the gap left by her late husband with books. Dustin had a feeling she and Nevada would hit it off if they had time to get to know one another.

  Nevada pointed to a stack of red boxes. “Bet those are for us.”

  “Good morning, everyone.” Normally, Lesley sat on a stool behind the counter with a grin on her weathered face. The smile was there, as were her glasses, but today she stood. “You’ll find this morning’s task in the red box. Grab one and find a spot. Once you complete it, you’ll be told where to go next. Be sure to take selfies of yourself before, during, and after completing this task.”

  “You get a spot,” Nevada said. “I’ll grab a box.”

  He found a four-foot high bookcase with nothing on top.

  Less than a minute later, she joined him. “It’s your turn to open this one.”

  Dustin took a selfie of the box and then held onto it.

  “Does everyone have a spot?” Lesley asked.

  The crowd cheered yes.

  “3, 2, 1… Go!”

  He opened the box. “It’s a puzzle.”

  “Pour the pieces out,” Nevada said.

  Dustin did and took a quick photo. He tried to put pieces together, but he couldn’t
find any that matched. “This is more complicated than I thought.”

  Nevada, however, put together pieces easily. “It’s not so bad.”

  “That’s due to your brilliant mind.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “Thanks, but all it takes is understanding spatial relations.”

  He liked how her emotions showed, but he wished she wasn’t so modest. “That’s not one of my skills. I’m relieved it’s one of yours.”

  As she joined more pieces together, she bit her lower lip.

  Dustin snapped a picture. Her ability impressed him because he doubted he’d have put together two pieces on his own.

  She stuck the last piece into the puzzle. “All done.”

  He took a photo of the completed puzzle. That was when he noticed the words written on the three-dimensional heart.

  “Come closer.” He took another photo of them with the puzzle. “That should do it.”

  Other competitors were still piecing their puzzles together. Groans and curses filled the air. That was where he would be without Nevada.

  Their alliance hadn’t been a mistake.

  He didn’t want to give anything away to the other teams so he pointed at the words on their puzzle rather than saying them.

  A mountain of fun

  With the wind at your face.

  And speed to zip you to the bottom.

  Dakota shrugged. “No idea what that means.”

  He repeated the words in his mind.

  Once, twice…

  “I’ve got it.” He covered the puzzle with the red box. That might deter someone from peeking. “Let’s go.”

  As they hurried out of the bookstore, others glared at them. Validation rushed through him, except he’d had nothing to do with their success. Nevada’s eye for shapes, patterns, and geometry had made the difference.

  He motioned to his truck across the street. “I parked close just in case.”

  They hurried over and got in. He started the engine.

  “Where are we supposed to go?” she asked.

  “The sledding hill outside of town. The other wranglers and I take Brooklyn there.” He pulled away from the curb. “That’s the only place that makes sense.”

  “Who is Brooklyn?”

  “She’s the eight-year-old stepdaughter of the Bar V5’s foreman, Ty Murphy, and the closest thing I’ll ever have to a niece.”

  Or a daughter.

  He pulled out of his parking spot and drove down Main Street. “Cute kid. Whip smart like you. She only wears pink and would love your jacket.”

  “Dakota’s jacket,” Nevada clarified. “I’m just glad you could decipher where to go.”

  “I hope I’m right.”

  “If not, we have a photo we can use to figure it out.” She looked out the back window. “No one else is behind us. If this continues, we’ll win.”

  Dustin laughed. He liked seeing her competitive side come out. “Now who’s the cocky one?”

  *

  The drive to the sledding hill didn’t take long. Nevada didn’t see anyone behind them and only one other car was in the parking lot—a compact SUV with a Two Old Goats wine store logo on the hatchback window.

  She pressed her face closer to the window. Excitement surged. “This has to be it. There’s a small table with a heart-shaped flag next to that car. Looks like we’re the first ones here. Great job.”

  “I see it.” He parked and turned off the car. “Let’s make the most of our head start and hurry.”

  Nevada slid out of the pickup, tugged on a beanie, and adjusted her gloves. She didn’t see the two older gentlemen who owned the wine shop, but three stacks of inflatable tubes sat next to the small table.

  “The sleds are over here.” She ran toward them. “We can each take one.”

  “If we do that, there won’t be enough if all the teams show up at once.”

  She counted. He was right. “What should we do? Take turns?”

  He picked up a tube. “Let’s share this one.”

  She took a closer look and bit the inside of her mouth. “The tube looks a little small for two people.”

  “When was the last time you went sledding?”

  “I… can’t remember.”

  “Then come on.” Carrying the tube, he hurried toward the hill. “We’re wasting time.”

  “Right behind you.” She hoped this was the correct decision, but with each step, her doubts grew, and the tube seemed to get smaller.

  Two-thirds of the way up, Dustin was favoring his knee and limping.

  “Want me to carry the tube?” she offered.

  “It’s light, and we’re almost to the top.”

  Typical man.

  Like her big brother.

  York never showed weakness or admitted it. No matter what was going on in his life or where he might be, he looked out for her and Dakota. Nevada appreciated that, but she wished he understood she wanted to do the same for him.

  She wanted to do the same for Dustin, too.

  Nevada had surprised herself by not being totally helpless during yesterday’s obstacle course. Doing that physical task had given her a needed boost, and the courage to do more.

  At the top, Dustin set the tube on the snow near the edge of the sledding run and kept a hand on it. “Looks like someone was trying out the hill earlier.”

  “The Two Old Goats guys?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past Clifford and Emerson. Those boys like to have fun.”

  “Those boys have to be old enough to collect Social Security checks.”

  “True, but they’re young at heart.” Dustin sat in the tube and placed his legs apart. “Get in front of me.”

  She gulped. The tube seemed tiny with Dustin aboard. “I don’t want to hurt your knee.”

  “You won’t. You’ll be sitting between my legs.”

  That wasn’t making her feel any more comfortable. Especially when she remembered her legs wrapped around him yesterday. Forget this being a quest. It was quickly turning into the Valentine dilemma.

  Should she or shouldn’t she sit?

  “We can’t lose our advantage.” He patted the tube. “Hop on.”

  This was a bad idea, she had no doubt about that, but she sat between his legs anyway. She tried to keep space between her and his well, front. It wasn’t easy to do on such a small tube. The hole in the middle kept her sliding back against him.

  Whoever had come up with these tasks had no respect for personal space. Being carried. Now spooning while sitting. The positions were too intimate for two people who barely knew each other.

  She inched forward, only to fall back again.

  Her muscles bunched.

  He touched her shoulder. “Relax.”

  That wasn’t possible. “Your knee—”

  “Is fine.” Dustin snapped a selfie of them.

  Something rustled. His jacket. He must be putting away his cell phone.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  No, but she knew what he’d say to that. She scooted forward. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “It’ll be fun.”

  He pulled her closer to him.

  The space she’d wanted between them disappeared. Her bottom and back were against him.

  He wrapped his arms around her. “Wouldn’t want you to fly off.”

  Heat flowed through her veins. An ache grew inside her.

  Flying off might be safer than staying seated.

  A part of her liked being in his arms and so close to him.

  “Here we go,” he shouted.

  And they were off.

  Cold air hit her face.

  The tube accelerated.

  “Wheee!” Dustin yelled. “This is a blast.”

  He held her tighter. His breath was warm against the back of her neck.

  Nevada’s pulse raced faster than the sled. Her heart lodged in her throat. The response had nothing to do with the sledding—that part was fun—but everything to do with the man behind her.
r />   Physical awareness buzzed through her.

  Dustin was so solid, so male.

  She felt safe, protected between his legs while wrapped in his arms. She missed being touched and held by a man, but as much as she liked that, she was nervous and afraid.

  Nevada clutched the two handles in front of her like lifelines.

  “Isn’t this fun?” he asked.

  Not trusting her voice, she nodded. Hopefully, he would see her head moving.

  The hill flattened near the bottom. The tube slowed before coming to a stop.

  She jumped off the tube as if it was about to explode. Okay, more like she might.

  “Get back here,” Dustin said. “We need another selfie.”

  Begrudgingly, she sat on the edge of the tube.

  Dustin pulled her back against him. “Smile.”

  She had no idea if she was smiling, but the heat coursing through her made her feel warm and toasty. The cold temperature did nothing to cool her down.

  Not good.

  “We’re finished,” he said.

  Nevada stood and looked around. “I see another flag. Clifford and Emerson must be over there.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Instead of jogging, she walked. No one else had arrived yet, and she didn’t want Dustin to aggravate his knee.

  He kept her pace.

  That told her he was hurting or he would have been going faster.

  Near the flag, the two men sat in lounge chairs with champagne flutes full of what looked like mimosas. Flames danced from crackling logs in a portable fire pit positioned between them.

  The larger man—Clifford if she remembered his name correctly—raised his glass. “Congratulations. You’re the first to reach the pit stop.”

  Emerson rolled his eyes. “Puh-leze. This isn’t the Amazing Race.”

  “No, it’s the Valentine Quest, but I like saying pit stop.”

  Shaking his head, the thinner man pulled out an envelope. “Here’s your next task.”

  Dustin took it. “Let’s get to the truck.”

  Limping, he jogged back to the parking lot. Two more cars had arrived.

  “We have to hurry.” He handed her the envelope. “You can read this when we get to the truck.”

  “Okay, and this isn’t the time for manners. Opening my own door will save us time.” And he would be able to sit sooner. “Deal?”