Better Than Chocolate (Sweet Somethings Book 1) (17 page)

Between the mess of renovations and the frantic scramble to put the business back together within two months, Tess and I have hardly had time to breathe. I give her a lot of credit, and a lot of thanks, for taking on a little of my share when my graduate classes started. I’m glad I decided to take it slow with my coursework. At the end of the day, I love being in this bakery. No, this cafe. We’re now officially certified as a quick-service restaurant.

The customers start to dwindle, and I send Lily on her break. Tess joins me at the counter with the checklist for tomorrow’s wedding reception at the Hyatt. The bell over the door jangles as someone enters.

Tess shifts her weight. Technically, brunch is over, but she’ll probably offer a quick Panini or something if the customer is really insistent.

I keep my attention on the checklist. “I don’t think you’ll want to put all the Florentines out at once. Last time we―”

She grabs my arm, and with a wince, I look up.

Right into a pair of semi-sweet chocolate brown eyes.

“Hey, Carmel-cakes.”

Since I’m frozen, Tess springs into action. She skirts around the counter, waving her hands at the handful of customers, the regulars who like to linger. “Okay, folks, time to hit the road. It’s on the house if you haven’t paid yet. Tell everybody about the new brownie recipe.”

By the time she shuts the door and flips over the Open/Closed sign, I still haven’t moved. She bounces from foot to foot for a second or two, then rushes toward the kitchen.

“I’ll just see if Lily wants to go over her schedule for the rest of the semester.”

The double doors swing wildly, then settle in her wake.

With the whole restaurant to ourselves, everything intensifies. The drip of the coffee machine. The whir of the ventilation system. The flicker of that one light in the corner that really needs a new bulb.

The melted chocolate in Ryan’s eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He shrugs, but it’s not dismissive. “It’s been a while. I thought I’d come down and check Savannah out for myself.”

I flatten my hands on the counter. “You just get into town?”

“Maybe you can give me a tour. You kept promising.”

Doffing my apron, I hurry around to his side of the counter. “Seriously. What are you doing here? And no avoiding the question like you always do.”

As soon as I’m within reach, he takes me by the shoulders, halting my progress. “You’re right. No more avoiding it.” He drops his hands. “Sadie sent me an email. About you.”

I shake my head. “I don’t get it.”

He sighs. “Okay, well, how about this? I sold the house in Atlanta. I quit my job and I started a new one. Here. Teaching civil engineering at Savannah State.”

At the news, my stomach flips and my heart races. “And why would you do all that?”

“Because I’m done avoiding this. I tried to move on. To live my life without you. And you know what? It sucked. And according to Sadie, you’re kind of playing a part, too, because your life sucks a little without me.”

“I never said anything to her about―”

“She extrapolated.”

I pull in a breath as his hands frame my face. The touch, so familiar and yet so new, draws a rush of heat to my cheeks.

“Would it make you feel a little better to know the job offer came first? But everything seemed to fall into place after that. I figured it was a sign of some kind of Divine Intervention, if you believe in that stuff.”

I can hardly focus on what he’s saying for the hammering of my heart. “It makes me feel a little better, yeah.”

He smiles, steps just a little closer. “And I thought maybe I screwed up the last time, jumped the gun on telling you how I felt.” His fingers brush through my hair. “How I feel. Because no matter how hard I tried to stop, I feel the same as ever.”

“The same as ever,” I echo. My arms, which had been limp at my sides, rise to snake around his neck.

“Then I got this idea,” he continued, “if you still feel the same, and now you’ve had some time to think and do whatever else you needed to do, maybe this is it, the right moment. And as long as you aren’t lost in a sea of fellowships and chocolate custards, we finally might be in the right place at the right time.”

I am lost, but it’s in his eyes. They’re all I see, and all I feel is his arms around me. The satisfaction of it is better than any cupcake, custard, or chocolate cream pie I’ve ever made or eaten.

Only one thing would be better than all of it combined.

He bows his head, lowers his voice. “So I thought―”

“Ryan?”

His brows lift.

“You’ve been doing way too much thinking. I think you should kiss me.”

His lips stretch, half a smirk. “Anything you want, Carmel-cakes. As long as I get to keep kissing you, whenever and wherever I want.”