Charmed by Chocolate (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 6)

by Steena Holmes

  Charmed by Chocolate

  A Love at the Chocolate Shop Romance

  Steena Holmes

  Charmed by Chocolate

  Copyright © 2017 Steena Holmes

  Kindle Edition

  The Tule Publishing Group, LLC

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-945879-77-7

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Love at the Chocolate Shop Series

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  “I came home why again?” The view outside her front window did nothing to convince Leah coming back had been a good idea.

  She’d exchanged green grass, rolling hills, and soft sea breezes for freezing snow, flat land, and chilling blizzard winds.

  If she had to do it all over again, coming back here should have been the last option.

  Who was she kidding? This had been her only option.

  She ran home to lick her wounds and this…this cold, never-ending white stuff outside was the price to pay.

  One freakish blizzard after the other. Almost as if Mother Nature herself was trying to keep Leah in Marietta.

  A chilly burst of air from the crack at the bottom of the front door wound its way around her ankles and nipped at her skin. Her four pairs of wool socks were sitting in the washing machine along with her only comfy pair of Mukluks. Thanks to Dylan’s cat, Jack, all she had left were ankle socks. Who wore ankle socks during the winter in Montana?

  Dang cat and his miserable temperament.

  She’d been home for exactly twenty-four hours, but she’d forgotten how cold Marietta could get in the winter. She’d expected all her winter gear would still be here, but her brother gave it all away during a clothing drive last year.

  Nice one, Dylan.

  When she’d said she’d never return to Marietta, he’d apparently believed her.

  He should know her better than that. She might say words she regretted in the heat of the moment…but that was all they were…words.

  As if she could get Marietta out of her system.

  She didn’t mind coming back to visit…but she preferred coming back in the summer—when it was sweltering hot.

  Her favorite time to come back was during the rodeo. Not in March.

  Southern California never got this cold. Ever.

  Leah shivered and drew the ends of her cardigan closer to her small-framed body.

  “Is today the day I’m going to face the world?” Leah tossed the question over to Jack, who laid on his bed in front of the floor heater, ignoring her.

  “That’s what I thought. Licking my wounds a little while longer it is.” Leah went to lightly rub the cat’s head, but his deep growl had her pulling away. There were enough scratch marks on her hands to know he was an ornery old thing.

  “One day, you’ll like me. I don’t care if it takes all the time in the world, either.”

  She eyed the heavily blanketed sidewalk in front of the house and knew she needed to go out and clean it off before anyone from the retirement home down the street went for their daily walk. Dylan sent a message earlier saying he’d take care of it when he got home, but if she bundled up, no one would recognize her. Right?

  Whether it was the cold draft snaking around her ankles or just watching the snow fall, goose bumps started to cover her body and Leah shivered. She’d turned the kettle on earlier for tea. Hopefully, it was still hot. She’d prefer hot chocolate, but after convincing Dylan to bring home a carafe of Sage’s delectable concoction last night, she’d never go back to the pre-packaged garbage her brother kept in the cupboard.

  Leah reached for the tattered brown-and-blue knitted scarf Wade had made for her one Christmas, wrapping its softness around her neck before pouring boiling water into an awaiting mug of tea. The moment she wrapped her hands around the hot mug, she sighed with relief, enjoying the warmth as it seeped into her palms. Now, if only her fingers would de-ice.

  Of all the places in this home she missed the most, it was this kitchen. So many sweet memories of her life had started here. Baking with her mother as a little girl, learning how to read recipes, create treats from scratch…she cherished those moments. Her mom would tell her stories about her past, of growing up and learning how to bake herself. She shared stories about how her and Leah’s father met, fell in love, and then stories about her and her brother, and then all those memories where her mother gave her advice about her friendships, her failed relationships, and then with…

  No. Leah clamped down on all thoughts about that…stuff.

  It made her miss her parents even more. They’d been gone for over fifteen years now, having died in a tragic car accident where they were forced off the road by a truck full of drunken teens.

  Losing her parents at the age of eighteen had changed her life in more ways than one.

  Leah dedicated her life to working with teens, speaking at assemblies, and even volunteered as a designated driver on the weekends…anything to do her part in making sure they were aware of the dangers of drinking and driving. Saving lives was her focus and goal.

  She hoped she hadn’t screwed that up by her latest faux pas.

  Leah picked at one of the fresh-baked chocolate chip oatmeal muffins she’d made earlier this morning. The plate of cinnamon buns she’d made in the middle of the night after not being able to sleep called out to her, but she’d save those as a reward for shoveling.

  Food made for great rewards.

  “Sorry about the blizzard, folks. Apparently, March is coming in like a lion this year and not the lamb I’d predicted.” Dylan, her brother as well as Marietta’s local radio DJ and weatherman’s voice, caught her attention on the radio she had playing in the background. “Keep those ice skates handy, though, as the weather should break by midafternoon. And remember, I may not always get the weather right, but I can make your mood better thanks to the sounds of our next music artist, Garth Brooks.”

  Leah snickered at the apologetic tone to his voice. She could imagine the phone calls her brother was getting at the station. There was a running bet down at the local pub regarding Dylan and his weather guarantees.

  Leah took a sip of her tea and enjoyed the scorching sensation as she swallowed.

  By the time she was bundled up with her brother’s oversized hooded jacket, waterproof mitts, knitted hat, and his extra-large snow boots, she was sweating.

  The street outside
was quiet. The falling snow muted the sounds of traffic down the street. For a moment…a very brief moment…Leah relished the stillness. Until cold puddles of liquid soaked through the bottoms of the discarded boots she’d found in the front closet.

  Now she knew why they’d been buried at the back of the closet.

  Leah bit back a groan, pulled up the scarf around her neck to cover her mouth and nose, reached for the shovel that rested just inside the small alcove of the front porch, and started the arduous process of clearing away the fluffy, yet dense snow.

  She hated winter. Hated it with a passion. Every year since moving away, she’d send Dylan photos of her enjoying the warm sun whenever she checked the weather and saw it’d snowed in Marietta. Every photo she sent, Dylan would reply with a warning that karma had a nasty temperament. Of course, Leah ignored that.

  Karma loved her. Karma would never turn on its heel and kick her in the butt. Karma was her best friend.

  Until she did something to piss karma off.

  Karma sucked.

  With that in mind, Leah bent down and pushed her shovel along the sidewalk. When it was full, she lifted it up, aiming the snow to go flying over the curb and onto the road in front of her. Except a gust of wind hit her and carried the snow behind her. A muffled gasp caught her attention. Leah spun, her eyes widening in dismay as her grandmother wiped snow off her face.

  “Oh my…Grams! I’m so sorry.” She dropped the shovel. “I didn’t realize you were behind me, and the wind—” Leah rushed over and brushed snow off her grandmother’s coat and scarf.

  Grams brushed her hands away, relinquished her hold of the man’s arm beside her, and smoothed her bright red winter coat. “I always did like a good snowball fight.” Her eyes twinkled while the color in her cheeks matched her coat. “Wade, be a dear and finish clearing Leah’s sidewalk?”

  Leah froze. Her mouth flapped like a gasping fish.

  “Close your mouth, Leah, it’s unbecoming.” Grams tapped her on the sleeve.

  Leah’s hand tightened around the shovel but did as she was told, like a little child.

  Wade Burns. Damn the man. Karma must really have it out for her right now.

  “I’m not ready for you. Not yet.” The words made their way out of her mouth before she even knew she thought them.

  The way his eyes softened at her words made her want to scream.

  Not fair, Karma. Not fair.

  Wade Burns was her best friend. Her soul mate. The one person she trusted more than anyone else in the world. Until last month, not a day went by when they weren’t talking via text message, sharing a laugh on Facebook, or even messaging on Twitter. This was the one man who knew her inside and out, who loved her without prejudice. She treasured his friendship more than anything in the world, which was why seeing him here, now, when she wasn’t ready…

  Not fair, Karma. Not fair.

  Exactly five days ago, she’d blurted out her love for him on national television.

  It had been the five longest days of her life.

  The five roughest days in the past few years.

  Did he know? Was she living in a dream world by hoping he didn’t?

  Probably.

  The nail that’d been hammered deep into her heart after that humiliating episode twisted, reopening the wound Wade himself had placed there, and she was surprised she was still standing.

  She’d told him how she felt one night about a month ago, and he’d turned her down. Not just turned her down, though; he completely obliterated her by acting as if the words hadn’t popped out of her mouth at all.

  I love you.

  Gah. She couldn’t even look at him now.

  “Well, kiddo,” Grams nudged her out of the way, “ready or not, here I am.” Her grandmother headed to the front door and climbed the steps. “Leah? Give the shovel to Wade.”

  Leah wordlessly handed the shovel over to the one man she’d hoped to avoid for a little while longer.

  His soft, insanely gorgeous smile and wink confirmed he knew it, too.

  “It’s good to see you, Leah.” His voice, the audible version of smooth butterscotch rum sliding down one’s throat, had her weak in the knees. “I’ve been waiting for you to call or text…” He watched her with those kind, gorgeous eyes of his, and her heart started to tap-tap-tap against her chest. She rubbed at the spot, as if it actually ached, before dropping her hand, hoping he hadn’t caught that little response.

  “Something you need to get off your chest?” His low voice rumbled all the way through her.

  “What? No…no…I just…” The words were all twisted up inside of her.

  For Pete’s sake, she was acting like a love-struck teenager, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  “Child, get in the house.” Grams’ voice was full of laughter, leaving Leah wishing that dying from embarrassment was actually a real thing.

  “Grams, you don’t play fair,” Leah hissed as she climbed the steps and opened the door, moving to the side so her grandmother could walk in first. She cast a quick glance down at Wade, who caught her looking and gave her one of those heart-thumping smiles of his.

  The edges of her lips started to curl into something she hoped was a smile, but feared might actually look like a grimace. The sudden frown on his face confirmed that fear.

  “I never have, love,” Grams teased. Leah tore her gaze from Wade’s and looked at her grandmother. “Why start playing fair now?” The saucy grin on Grams’ face told Leah more than she needed to know.

  She’d brought Wade here on purpose. Damn the woman.

  “Do you have any salt or rock chips?” Wade asked before she could close the door.

  Leah pointed to the round white container just off to the side of the front porch. “There’s salt in there. Careful though. Dylan filled it last night, so it’ll be…” Her jaw dropped for a few seconds as she watched Wade lift it with one hand. “Heavy.” She shook her head as Wade winked at her once again.

  Damn the man and his winks. And strong arms. And knowing smile. And…

  She was honest when she’d said she wasn’t ready for him yet. She wasn’t. She needed another few days at least to work up the courage to talk to him. Weeks even.

  Heck, make that months…and only after there were at least a thousand miles or more separating them.

  Chapter Two

  “Stop frowning at the poor boy, Leah. You’ll give him a complex.” Grams hung her red coat on a hook by the front door and set her boots on the drying rack.

  Leah shrugged herself out of the giant coat she wore, toed off boots that belonged in the garbage, and searched for her Mukluks before remembering they were in the wash.

  “Your feet are soaked. What are you doing wearing Dylan’s old boots? They’re too big for you, girl.” Grams tsked as she stared at Leah’s obviously wet socks.

  “Too big and full of holes.” Leah rummaged in the closet for an extra pair of slippers she was sure had been in there earlier. “I assumed Dylan would have kept all my winter clothes for me, but he apparently donated them.”

  “Go get some wool socks on then, for Pete’s sake.” Grams pushed her off toward the stairs, but Leah bypassed them and headed for the laundry room. First, she dumped all the clothes in the dryer in an empty clothes basket, then she fished through said clothes for a pair of thick wool socks she remembered seeing earlier. After pulling them on and sighing with relief, she pulled everything from the washer, put it in the now-empty dryer, and then turned it on, praying that her Mukluks would be okay. She’d never actually washed them before, so she had no idea if they’d survive the heat or not.

  Guess she’d find out soon enough.

  “Would you like a cup of tea? I’m sure the kettle is still hot,” Leah asked, projecting her voice as she headed down the hallway. “The last thing you need is to get hit with a cold.”

  Grams had already poured water into a teacup and was dipping a tea bag into the water while petting Jack. The cat lay on t
he counter, his purr louder than a damn train whistle.

  Leah scowled at the cat and swore the furry thing winked back at her.

  “Why are you out and about on a morning like today?” Leah asked. “You should be back in your apartment, snuggled beneath a throw and watching your soap opera.”

  “As if I’m going to let a little cold weather keep me in doors. I had a craving for a muffin and all they had for breakfast was oatmeal and toast.” A frown settled on Grams’ face as she reached for one of the muffins Leah had made earlier.

  Leah knew that wasn’t true. “What was wrong with the fruit salad or a smoothie?” There was always an assortment of foods to choose from at Kindred Place, the local retirement home located in one of Marietta’s Victorian houses.

  “I didn’t want a fruit salad or a smoothie. I wanted a muffin. Specifically, the muffins your brother told me you’ve been making.” Grams gave her a pointed look.

  “So you’re only here for my baking, is that it?” There was an unmistakable challenge in Leah’s voice, one that egged Grams to deny what they both knew.

  Grams chuckle admitted defeat. “For the record, as long you’re staying, I expect fresh baking every morning.”

  Every morning? That wasn’t so bad. “Deal.”

  “I also expect to see you every morning as well. Enough of this hiding here at home,” Grams added.

  Every morning? That was pushing it.

  “I’m not hiding.” Leah turned before she could see the disbelief on her grandmother’s face and reached for a few plates from the cupboard. “Would you like a cinnamon bun?”

  “You are hiding, and you know I would. Doctor says I need to add some weight to these old bones.”

  Leah chuckled. “I’m not, and I’m more than happy to oblige.” Two could play that game.

  “You really shouldn’t be arguing with me, child. It’s not fair to this old woman. Besides, you know you’ll never win.”

  Leah kept her mouth shut as she led Grams to the kitchen table. Her grams might appear frail, but she was anything but.