Sweet Hearts (13 page)

That tramp! Beau surely told her
he was engaged and yet she still came on to him. Sam picked up the chocolates
and tucked the box under her arm. Her self confidence began to wane. She walked
out, past the front desk, down the sidewalk to her truck, each step an effort.
The combination of the special ingredients for the chocolates and her handling
of the magical wooden box must have created an extra-strong batch.

Her joy at seeing how much her
customers appreciated them—how could it all have backfired on her so
drastically?

She started her truck and pulled
away from the curb. A half block away she spotted that distinctive silver
Lexus. Felicia was still here in the neighborhood. Perhaps even inside the
small inn at the end of the block. Sam felt a momentary urge to ram the car and
then sprint along the row of buildings, to find Felicia and slap her
way-too-pretty face. The image made her feel a little better but that sort of
confrontation wasn’t her style.

She waited at the corner for a
break in the traffic, realizing that it had been a long day and she was
exhausted. The drive to Albuquerque, the knowledge that a rival was after
Beau—Sam decided to go home and lock her fragile emotions away for the night.
In the morning, in a better state of mind, she would have to decide how to
address this with Beau.

Down inside her pocket her phone
buzzed but she ignored it.

Kelly’s red car sat in the
driveway at the house and lights glowed from the kitchen and living room
windows, a welcoming sight. But the peace was short lived.

“Mom, what is going on between
you and Beau?” Kelly demanded before Sam had even taken off her coat. Her
daughter stood at the refrigerator, browsing the food choices. “He just called
here, sounding kind of shaken up. He wants you to call him.”

Sam hung up her coat, taking her
time about it, then reached into her pocket for her phone. Sure enough, the
missed call came from Beau’s number.

Kelly stared at her.

“Either choose something or close
the door,” Sam said, nodding toward the fridge.

Kelly closed it and watched her
mother cross the room. “You okay?”

Sam took a deep breath.
“Probably.”

“You obviously need a minute.
I’ll be in my room.”

Sam filled the kettle with water
and looked for a packet of her favorite raspberry spiced tea. The good part
about a call from Beau was that he probably wasn’t locked away in a hotel room
with Felicia. She held that thought while she dialed him.

“Hey, where were you? Ortiz said
you stopped by.” His tone was a little hesitant.

“Where were
you
? She said
you were in your office but I didn’t find you anywhere.” She took a deep
breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be—”

“I, uh, just had to step out for
a minute. Why didn’t you wait?”

The kettle whistled and Sam
turned off the burner.

“Darlin’, really. I wasn’t
avoiding you.”

“I found the chocolates on your
desk. I brought them home with me, in case you were wondering.”

“Oh, that.”

“She was there, wasn’t she?”

“Sam, I think we need to have
this conversation in person. Can I come by?”

This could degenerate into a
fight at this point or she could cool it down. “I’m tired, Beau. It’s been a
long day.”

“Sam, nothing happened. I promise
you.”

She stared at the dark kitchen
window. The wall phone rang. “I better get that,” she said. “I’ll talk to you
in the morning.”

What now?
She clicked off
Beau’s call and reached for the other phone.

“Ms Sweet? This is Diane Milton.
Marla Fresques wanted me to call you.”

“Oh, dear, is she okay?” Sam’s
mental gears switched from her own problems to the much more serious ones Marla
faced.

“She’s in the hospital. I wanted
to let you know that Jolie is staying with us. She knows that her grandmother
is sick but Marla has been really obstinate about any of us letting the girl
know how bad it is.”

That’s not good, Sam thought.

“She’s pinning a lot of hope on
your getting her son to come home. I guess she thinks that if Jolie has the
positive news that her dad is back it’ll make losing her grandmother easier to
handle.”

“What does the doctor say, about
how long . . .?”

“They don’t tell us much, mainly
because I’m not related. But I get the feeling we might be down to a matter of
days or weeks. They’ve recommended hospice care.”

Sam stared at the teabag in her
cup, where the water had become darker than coffee.

“Diane, I have to be frank with
you. I’ve made almost no progress toward finding Tito, and the authorities
aren’t pursuing the case at all.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“I don’t want to put it quite
that bluntly to Marla,” Sam said, “but I can’t really give her any false hope,
either.”

“I know. Just do what you can.”
Diane hung up after giving her Marla’s room number at the hospital.

Sam carried her tea to the table
and dropped into one of the chairs. Marla dying, Felicia coming after Beau, the
crazy schedule at her shop. And she was supposed to be moving to Beau’s house
today and getting married two days after that. Something had to give.

She picked up her cell phone and
speed-dialed.

“Beau, you’re right, we better
talk tonight.” As she clicked off she choked back a sob.

Three minutes later, flashing red
and blue lights bounced through her kitchen window. Well, one benefit of dating
a law enforcement man was that when you said now, he came
now
. Sam bit
back the smile that tickled at her mouth, dumping the scrap of ironic humor
into the muddle of her other emotions.

Heavy steps hit the service porch
and a second later he was in the kitchen. When he spotted her at the table he
crossed the room in three strides.

“Darlin’, what’s—”

She stood up and let him pull her
to his chest. The outdoor chill on his coat felt good against her hot skin.
Somewhere behind her she heard Kelly’s bedroom door open, a little exclamation,
then the door closed again. Sam allowed herself to cave, sobbing until she
became aware of Beau’s hands making wide circles on her back, his breathing
steady in her ear.

“Shall we sit down?” he finally
asked.

Her head shook against his chest.
“I can’t move.”

He took her shoulders and stepped
back, trying to make her meet his gaze.

“Have you eaten anything all
day?” he asked. “You look plain tuckered out.”

She sighed. “I can’t remember. I
think I had something in Albuquerque.”

“Well, that was too many hours
and too many miles ago. Let me find you something.” He steered her back to her
chair and pressed her into it.

He sat patiently while she worked
on a bowl of vegetable soup. When she’d finished, he cleared the dishes and sat
facing her.

“Better?”

She nodded.

“Okay, now that you can be a
little bit coherent again, you want to tell me what this is all about?”

She took a deep breath. Where to
start? “Several things, I guess. I just learned that Marla Fresques is dying,
probably soon. I feel so obligated to follow up to find her son. She begged me,
Beau. She may only have a few days.”

He nodded slowly. “I’ll do what I
can to help. Somehow, I’ll make time for it.”

“I’m also getting a little
freaked about moving and the wedding. It’s coming up so fast.”

He stared at her intently. “Are
you changing your mind?” His voice came out barely above a whisper.

“I don’t think so. But I need to
know if you are.” Her blood felt as if it were racing through her veins.
“Felicia Black. I need to know.”

His gaze slid to the box of
chocolates sitting across the table. Sam lifted the lid, revealing that two
pieces were missing.

“She gave you those, right?” Sam
asked.

“Darlin’, don’t worry. I got your
message. I didn’t eat any.” He reached out to run his fingers down her arm. “I
don’t understand why, but I didn’t touch ’em.”

Sam flipped the lid back onto the
box. As if the mere sight or smell of the candy might bewitch him.

“There’s just something about
this particular batch . . .” She wasn’t quite sure how to explain it. Was the
love-inducing power specific to the giver and receiver of the gift? Or did it
simply work on anyone who got in its way?

“Were you there when she brought
them?” she asked, hating the whine of jealousy that crept into her voice.

“I was.”

“Did she . . .” Damn, it was hard
to phrase the questions without sounding like a shrew.

“Sam, she did come on to me.” He
paused a fraction of a second too long. Realized it. “She kissed me. I stepped
away, walked to the back door of the squad room and showed her out. Last I saw
of her she was throwing me the finger along with a few choice words.”

Sam found herself smiling at that
image.

“So? Are these things tainted or
something? Why didn’t you want me to eat them? You would never let bad food out
of your shop.”

“No, they’re not tainted.” She
chewed at her lip. “I don’t really know how to explain it. Everyone who eats
them seems to become very attracted to someone . . . And, well, I knew Felicia
was coming after you.”

She told him about the remarks
she’d overheard Felicia make to Jen at the shop.

“So that’s it.” She shrugged. “I
have to admit that I was afraid she might really win you back and with these
things— You might actually fall for it.”

He lifted the lid and peeked
cautiously at the chocolates.

Sam said. “Who took the two
pieces?”

Beau thought for a minute. “My
bet would be on Rico. I’d said something about how you didn’t want me eating any
chocolate and he asked if I didn’t want them anymore. I didn’t say anything,
but I’ll bet he came back and took a couple.” His mouth twitched. “In fact, an
hour or so after the box arrived I caught him in one of the back rooms, kind of
off to himself, talking on the phone in a very suggestive voice. He like to
have jumped a mile when I spoke to him. He blushed and covered the phone.”

“You think—”

“I think he was having phone sex.
He’s got this cute little girlfriend. Maybe they—”

“Oh my.” Her eyes went wide.

“He came in a few minutes later,
kind of jittery, said he had a bad headache coming on, wanted to go home for
prescription medication.” He rolled his eyes. “I had to let him go.”

Sam pictured the deputy dashing
home for a quickie and they both erupted in laughter at the same moment.

At least Rico’s antics proved
that the chocolates worked on anyone who ate them, not specifically the person
who received them as a gift. And she hoped Rico’s lust was solely directed at
his girlfriend and not just any woman who crossed his path.

“Unless you want your whole
department going on some kind of love-binge, I think you need to keep this
candy away from the office.”

“This stuff, it’s just for you
and me.” He closed the box. “So. Felicia problem solved. Marla’s problem, we
will work on.” He stared at the center of the table. “Wedding. What do you want
to do?”

“I want to marry you.” She waited
until he met her gaze and then she repeated it. “But I can’t cope with the push
to do it in two days’ time. There’s too much going on right now. I feel like I
was crazy to buy into the whole idea that it would be so romantic to do it on
Valentine’s Day.”

“Fine with me.” He reached out
and took her hands. “Darlin’, I want our life together to be happy. The
marriage can’t be a source of stress for us.”

“Thank you.” She sent him a
little smile. “You’re sure?”

He nodded.

“Kelly’s probably starving by
now. I kind of banished her to her room, I’m not sure how long ago.”

“We’ll fix it.” He walked to the
closed bedroom door and tapped. “Safe to come out now.”

Kelly emerged cautiously. “You
guys okay? I was getting a little worried in there.”

At Sam’s inquiry about dinner,
Kelly admitted that she’d broken into her stash of late-night snack food,
filling up on peanut butter crackers and trail mix.

“We’ve decided to put the wedding
off for a few days,” Sam said. “I’m sorry. I know you pictured how beautiful it
would be at Valentine’s Day but I just can’t handle the bakery business and my
own wedding at the same time.”

She purposely didn’t mention
Felicia, although there was no doubt Kelly had overheard a few juicy tidbits on
the subject.

“So, I could help out by calling
the guests,” Kelly offered. “Gramma and Grampa will be kind of upset.”

“Oh, why? They’re used to me by
now aren’t they?” Sam half-joked. From the day she’d skipped out of west Texas
at the age of eighteen she’d had the feeling her parents disapproved of most of
her lifestyle choices. This could just be another checkmark on her mother’s
I-told-you-so list.

“Who else do I need to add to the
call list?” Kelly was asking. “Florist? Judge?”

“At least the baker got the word
in time. I won’t have a cancellation charge there,” Sam said, feeling her old
sense of humor returning. “If you’ll contact the others, I’ll call Zoë. She
better hear this from me or she’ll freak.”

Kelly headed toward the computer
desk in the living room, the portable phone in her hand. For most of the guests
an email would suffice. But the grandparents better get the word by phone. They
were supposed to be in the car heading to New Mexico first thing in the
morning.

Zoë took the news well, Sam
thought, considering that she’d probably rearranged her living room, stocked a
bunch of extra food, and turned down bookings at the B&B to dedicate her
home to Sam’s wedding.

“Samantha, are you
sure
you’re all right?” she kept asking. “Never mind about the extra food. Most of
it can go into the freezer. And if you don’t reschedule the wedding and use it
soon—well, our skiers will just get some exotic breakfasts for the next few
weeks.”