Seduction and Snacks (Chocolate Lovers #1)

by Tara Sivec

  "Yes, Mommy said bad words. Sometimes mommies say bad words. Just don't ever repeat them, got it?"

  He started bouncing up and down on my stomach like he was riding one of those stupid hopping balls with handles.

  "Gavin, come on. Mommy doesn't feel good," I complained.

  He stopped bouncing and leaned forward to sprawl his body out on top of me, putting his face right up to mine.

  "Do you want me ta' beat up your friends, Mommy?" he whispered conspiratorially.

  I removed my hands from my head and opened my eyes to look at him.

  "What are you talking about, Gav?"

  He brought his hands up and put them on my chest, resting his chin on top.

  "Your friends, Mommy. The ones who maded you sick," he said in a voice that clearly screamed, "Duh."

  I wrapped my arms around his little body and shook my head at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about, buddy."

  He let out an exasperated sigh. Poor kid. He got stuck with a dumb mother.

  "Papa says your friends Johnny, Jack and Jose maded you sick. Friends shouldn't do stuff like that, Mommy. If Luke maded me sick, I'd punch him in the nuts!"

  "Gavin! Come on, we don't say things like that," I scolded him.

  "Fine," he huffed. "I'd tickle him in the nuts."

  Jesus Christ on a waffle cone. There's a reason why some animals in the wild eat their young.

  "Just don't talk about nuts," I said with a sigh, rolling over so he slipped down onto the bed next to me with a giggle as he went.

  "My best friend Luke talks about nuts. He showed me his wiener once. Do girls have wieners? Papa took me to breakfast and I ate fwee pancakes wif syrup and sausages, and Papa let me have Dr. Pepper last night wif dinner, and I told him I'm not allowed to have pop wif dinner but he told me not to tell you, and I said okay but I forgot. Can we go to the park?"

  Make it stop. Please God just make it stop.

  "SO HOW YOU FEELING THERE CLAIRE?" my dad screamed at the top of his lungs as he lounged against the door frame to my room with a cup of coffee in his hand.

  I squinted one eye open and peered at him through it, trying to muster up a dirty look but my face hurt too much to do that.

  "Really funny there, old man. Don't make me come over there and punch you. When I don't feel like puking. And my legs start to work again," I muttered as Gavin fidgeted and kicked and scrambled his way over top of me to get off the bed.

  He ran across the room to my dad and threw himself at his legs, his head smacking into the family jewels.

  "Shit! Gavin, you gotta be careful there, buddy," my dad wheezed as he picked him up.

  "Papa, can we go to the shit-park?"

  I have to give it to my dad, he never laughed at that shit. Er, stuff. I don't know how the hell he always kept his composure. As long as Gavin didn't do that sh..stuff in public and embarrass the hell out of me, it was hard not to laugh.

  "Gavin, remember the talk we had last night about big-people words? Well, shit is one of those big-people words. You don't say it," my dad said sternly as he looked into Gavin's eyes.

  "Can I says it when I'm a big boy?"

  "Yes, you can SAY it when you're a big boy," he replied.

  Gavin seemed satisfied with that answer and forgot all about the shit-park. My dad put him down and he ran out the door and down the hall to his room.

  "Thanks for watching him last night after Liz got home to Jim," I said as I pushed myself up in bed and leaned against the headboard.

  "Yep."

  He stood there staring at me silently while he sipped his hot coffee. He knew something was up. I liked to have some drinks every now and then, but getting tanked like I did last night, especially at work, meant something bad happened. Thank God Liz stayed with me at the bar all night and made sure I didn’t drop any more glasses or puke in someone’s lap.

  I don’t even know how I’m supposed to process what happened last night. Or more to the point, who happened last night. As soon as I saw his face, I knew. Those eyes were a dead give-away. Aside from the fact that I used to dream about those blue eyes and would remember his face no matter how much time had passed, I’ve had to look into those same eyes every single day for the past four years.

  Fuck!

  I'm pretty sure the wet dream I was having this morning was about him too.

  Double fuck!

  His voice was a dead giveaway as well. That deep raspy voice that murmured the words "Jesus, you're so fucking beautiful" in that dark bedroom five years ago floated through my mind all the time. After I tipped the tray full of glasses and dropped down behind the bar, I sent a panicked look to the other end where Liz sat. Without hesitating, she got to my side to see what was wrong. My frantic words of “OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, IT’S HIM, HOLY SHIT LIZ IT’S HIM AND HE’S HERE AND HE SAW ME AND OH MY GOD I CAN’T DO THIS RIGHT NOW!” spurned her into action and she popped her head up to get a better look at him. After just a few seconds she dropped back down to my hiding place and with a squeal and a clap of her hands she confirmed it was him.

  My dad stood there in the doorway tapping his foot, waiting for me to proceed. I needed more time to think about what I was going to do, but I never kept anything from my dad. With a huge dramatic sigh, I let it out. "He came into the bar last night."

  Dad stared at me questioningly for a few seconds before it clicked and his eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open. He knew exactly who I was referring to. There were only a small handful of men in my life, and we both knew I would call them by name if I was talking about them. The only person we ever referred to as "he" over the last few years was….

  Fuck! I still don't know his God damn fucking name!

  "Did you get his name this time?" my dad asked sarcastically, practically reading my mind.

  I shook my head and let it drop into my hands.

  My dad let out a sigh. "Well, if he comes back into the bar and you need me to kill him, let me know. I can make it look like an accident."

  If you're George Morgan’s enemy and you can see him, it's too late. He already killed you and you just don't realize it yet.

  ***

  After a shower and two cups of coffee, I almost felt human. I checked my voicemail while Gavin got dressed and there was a message from Liz. She told me to meet her at the old location of Andrea’s Bakery as soon as I woke up. She wanted me to look at the place before I had a chance to freak out about the bomb she dropped on me in the car the previous night. Liz knew me entirely too well. She knew as soon as I came to my senses I would tell her there was absolutely no way I would let her buy me a freaking business. She was out of her mind. Forcing me to meet her at the shop was cheating as far as I was concerned. Liz was smart though, I’ll give her that. She knew this would take my mind off of my other situation.

  Butler was a small college town that had a town square right in the heart of it where all of the mom-and-pop-type stores were located. Andrea’s Bakery was situated on the busiest corner. I had to clamp down my excitement as I buckled Gavin into his car seat and headed towards downtown. I would not get my hopes up about this yet. There were entirely too many things to work out and consider. How much rent would I have to pay Liz? What would Gavin and I do about healthcare? Would Liz and I be partners with this whole thing or two separate entities just sharing a space? Could our friendship survive something like this? Would Gavin have to skip college and spend his life as a male prostitute just to make end’s meet because I stuck every penny into a business that tanked?

  Fuck, this was going to throw me into a panic attack.

  "Are we going to Auntie Wiz’s house?" Gavin asked from the backseat, looking out his window at the cars and houses we passed.

  I looked at him in the rearview mirror and reminded myself that whatever I did was all for him. He deserved the best life, and I was determined to give that to him.

  "No, bud, we're not going to her house. But we are going to see her," I told him as I pulled up
in front of the building a few minutes later.

  I sat in the car for a minute staring at our building. It was right on the corner and windows took up the entire front of the store, wrapping around to take up the whole other side as well. It was the perfect corner store where we could each have our own window displays. Andrea’s Bakery had recently been repainted bright white and had brand new flower boxes installed beneath the windows overflowing with Gerbera daisies in every color. It looked beautiful.

  Our building, our window displays. Jesus, I'm already thinking of it as mine. Liz is an evil genius and I haven’t even walked inside yet.

  Speaking of the she-devil, Liz stepped out of one of the doors, holding it open with her hip.

  "Stop gawking and get your ass in here," she yelled out to me, before turning around and walking back inside.

  Gavin unfastened his seat belt and tried to open his door but the childproof lock prevented him from doing so.

  "Come on, Mommy," he complained. "Auntie Wiz said to get our ass in dare."

  "Gavin, language," I said, rolling my eyes at his refusal to listen as I got out and walked around to open his door. I grabbed his hand and helped him jump down out of the car.

  "Be good, you got it?" I asked as we walked up onto the sidewalk. "Don't run, don't yell, don't touch anything and stop saying bad words or you're going home to take a nap."

  "Naps can suck it."

  I will not sell him to gypsies. I will not sell him to gypsies.

  A bell dinged above the door as I opened it, and Gavin yanked his hand out of mine to go running into Liz’s arms.

  "Ooooooh, my handsome man is here!" Liz squealed as she scooped him up and swung him around. "What's new, little man?" she asked as she set him down on top of the counter next to her.

  "Mommy don't feel good today and I got a big wiener!"

  Liz barked out a laugh.

  "Gavin, please. Enough with the wiener talk," I complained

  "But, Mommy, look," he said as he attempted to unbutton his jeans. "My wiener is really big and tall right now and it feels funny."

  "Ooookay," I said as I quickly walked over and stopped him from whipping it out. "No one needs to see it and remember what I told you the other night?”

  Gavin nodded in understanding and I slid him down off of the counter and told him to go look out the front window to count the cars that go by. When his face and hands were plastered against the window, I turned to face Liz who was silently laughing with her hand over her mouth.

  "It's not funny," I hissed at her in a loud whisper. "Why the fuck didn't anyone tell me four-year-olds get woodys? I am not equipped to deal with this shit, Liz."

  She wiped tears out of her eyes and looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Claire, but seriously. That is some funny shit right there. Sorry, I know nothing about four-year-old boys. When the hell did it first happen?"

  "ONE!" Gavin yelled from in front of the window as a car went by.

  "The other night after his bath. He was lying on the floor on his towel and I gave him a book to read while I ran down the hall to get his pajamas out of the dryer," I started.

  "TWO!" came another yell from Gavin.

  "I walked in the room and he rolled over onto his back and that thing stuck straight up into the air like a lightening rod. It was horrific. He kept smacking at it and saying it felt funny. Jesus Christ, will you stop laughing!"

  "FWEE!"

  "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" Liz gasped in between laughs.

  "And of all the books he could have been reading when it happened, it had to be Barney. My son gets a hard-on for fucking BARNEY," I screeched and quickly turned around to make sure Gavin didn't hear me.

  Liz was hysterical at this point. Her mouth was closed and her shoulders were shaking. Every time she tried to breathe and not laugh she snorted and then choked.

  “Did you ask your dad about it?” she asked between giggles and coughs.

  I rolled my eyes before responding as I thought back to the conversation I’d attempted to have with my dad the other morning.

  “You know my dad. As soon as I said the word penis he turned and walked out of the room and told me to call my mother. And she was just as much help as you are right now. When I asked her if it was normal she replied “Does a one-legged duck swim in circles?” I hung up on her after ten straight minutes of her doing that hyperventilating laugh thing after I told her about the Barney Boner.”

  Liz finally calmed down and we both turned to check and make sure Gavin was still occupied.

  "Now every time it happens he wants to show me and say 'Mom! Look at my big wiener!' So I just told him it was normal and it happens to all little boys and it just wasn't something he should go walking around telling people."

  Liz patted me on the back and gave me a look of pity. "Well, that's just proof you need a man in your life, Claire. And speaking of men in your life…."

  "Don't. Don't even go there,” I threatened, pointing my finger in her face so she knew I was serious. “I am so not ready to have this discussion with you right now. I'm still wondering if last night was a dream and that wasn't really him. Maybe I was just imagining things in the haze of alcohol. I mean, in all the bars, in all the towns, in all the world…"

  "Easy there, Humphrey Bogart, it was him. I immediately recognized him and the friend he had with him. That was the guy who tried to make out with me that night right after telling me he usually liked girls with bigger tits but since I was pretty he would make an exception."

  I knew I was full of shit trying to convince myself that maybe it wasn't him. But having Liz confirm it made me feel like a dumb ass.

  "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Did you see his eyes? God, those were Gavin's eyes. They were that same weird blue-grey color with a black outline. What the fuck am I going to do?" I asked in a panic.

  "TEN!"

  "Gavin, four comes after three," Liz yelled to him while I tried not to throw up on the floor.

  "That's boring," he announced.

  "Come on, let me give you the tour before he starts showing his penis to all the people walking by and gets an indecent exposure ticket before the ink is dry on this place," Liz said as she grabbed my hand. "You're going to stop worrying about this right now and just enjoy taking a look at your dreams coming true. We'll worry about blue-eyes later."

  ***

  I was still in shock and awe mode as I drove us home two hours later. Gavin fell asleep as soon as the car started, so I didn't have any nonsense chatter about wieners and nuts coming from the backseat to break up my thoughts. The kitchen at the store was much nicer than I remembered from the years I spent stopping in there for a cup of coffee and a muffin, and it was stocked with supplies I only dreamed of using, let alone owning. There was an industrial-sized, two-door reach-in freezer with a matching three-door reach-in-fridge, a heavy-duty electric range with six burners, two Cyclone convection ovens, a holding cabinet that could keep sixteen trays of chocolates cool, a refrigerated bakery case that was right below the front counter and two copper kettles to melt chocolate, caramel or pretty much anything I needed. Right in the middle of the room was a four-foot by six-foot island with a cooling marble countertop - perfect for making candy. In all the time I’d patronized Andrea’s Bakery, I always loved the open floor-plan. I loved how when you were at the counter paying you could see into the kitchen and watch someone making cakes or pies.

  It was too much and I told Liz that as I walked around the kitchen, letting my hand trail over all of the equipment. She tried to tell me that the previous owners recently upgraded everything so all of the stuff in the kitchen came with the space, but I knew she was lying. I’d been in Andrea’s Bakery not that long ago and spoke with the manager. I knew for a fact they didn’t upgrade. Plus, Liz could never look me in the eyes when she lied and she swore twice as much.

  "Liz, this is too much. I can't let you do this."

  "Oh for fuck's sake, Claire. This fucking shit came with the fucking place and th
e previous fucking owners just want to fucking get rid of it."

  Liar liar, fucking pants on fucking fire.

  Liz’s side of the store was just as nice, only without the amazeballs kitchen that my side had. She showed me where she wanted the wall to go that would separate the two spaces right down the middle, but not extend all the way to the front. She wanted enough room up by the windows for customers to walk back and forth between the two stores. It would provide just enough privacy in case my customers weren't too keen on looking at the dildos, lingerie and lube on Liz’s side and she said we could put a door back by my kitchen where the two of us could easily go back and forth without going to the main parts of the stores. The front of both of our sides had a counter where a cash register would go. Liz’s side had display tables littered throughout the front so she could display the items she would have for sale. Mine was left empty right now, so I could possibly add some tables for people to sit down in the future. I realized she made changes to the place long before she clued me in, knowing full well I wouldn’t be able to turn it down once I saw the hard work she put in to it. Where my side was wide open so when you were standing in front, you could see the entire kitchen in the back, Liz’s side had a wall right behind the front counter since the only thing in the back of her store would be inventory. She’d thought of everything and I was completely amazed at all she’d done in such a short amount of time.

  While Gavin ran amok, we sat down on the floor with all of the paperwork strewn around us. We were knee deep in zoning permits, sales tax licenses, business plans, insurance policies and a hundred other different forms that made my head spin. This dream was so close I could touch it, but the fear of not being able to afford it had me biting my fingernails down to stubs. I could take up extra shifts at Fosters to save some more money and of course there was the additional income I would get from suffering through a bunch of Liz’s sex toy parties, but it still wouldn’t be enough to swing the rent and I refused to let Liz invest any more of her money for me. Liz called my father before I could protest and he met us up at the shop to take a look around.