How Sweet It Is (10 page)

“With all this chocolate around? Girl, you
don’t know how to enjoy what’s right under your nose.”

Delphine wondered if there was a double
meaning in that. She eased her lips into a smile.

“I was thinking of something slightly more
nutritious.”

Seven

After having a fruit smoothie at a local
shop, Delphine strolled with Brad through the downtown shopping
area of Glendale. A warm evening breeze blew along the sidewalks,
causing her to feel a little wistful.

She realized her restlessness hadn’t been
solved by the snack. Maybe she was more than hungry. She angled a
glance up at Brad, afraid at the direction of her thoughts. He
caught the movement and sent her an engaging smile.

Maybe I want more than
friendship with this man
.

The realization that she was
falling for Brad Larsen made her heart somersault within
her.
How does he really feel about me? Will
he ever try to kiss me again?

Maybe he remembers that
slap. Heat flooded her cheeks. Brad was hardly the type of guy who
needed to put much effort into pursuing females, especially those
who made it clear what they thought of his over-warm
attentions.
What’s the point in getting
attached? The end result is always the same
.

Suppressing a sigh, she peered up at his tall
form, seeing his dim reflection in the glass of shops they passed.
He stopped.

“Delphine. We forgot to do something.”

“What?” she asked, alarmed, wondering if
she’d neglected to lock up her shop before leaving.

“Research our competition.”

“Huh?” Her eyes followed his gaze until she
realized they stood in front of a candy shop.

Brad tugged on her hand. “Let’s go inside and
check this place out.”

Any thoughts of research flew out of her head
at his touch. Clutching his hand, she entered the store with
him.

The candy shop had been painted in a cotton
candy pink color with pink and white square tiles on the floor.
Chrome-trimmed seats and tables ran along one edge of the shop. A
bright pink neon sign announced an assortment of confections
ranging from chocolate to milkshakes to candy.

Brad purchased a few of the chocolates and
led Delphine out the door. From there, he found a phone booth and
made a list of all the candy stores and gift shops in the area.
They spent the next two hours hitting every store in the district,
eventually making it back to Delphine’s shop at nine in the
evening.

Inside her shop, Brad dumped a pile of sacks
and boxes on the wooden prep table back in the kitchen. Delphine
drew up a couple of stools so they could sit. A small pool of light
shone down on the table, while the rest of the shop remained in
shadows. They perched atop the stools, close enough that their
knees touched. Brad lifted the lid on the box and looked hungrily
at the contents.

Delphine laughed at his expression. “I don’t
think your research is entirely altruistic. Admit it, you just want
more chocolate.”

“Admitted,” he said before popping a
chocolate-covered turtle into his mouth.

She reached into the box and drew out another
turtle. She gave it a delicate sniff before taking a small bite.
After swallowing, she frowned. “Too much sugar. It’s used to mask
the inferior quality of the chocolate.”

Brad looked at her in surprise. “It tasted
fine to me!”

“You’ll learn.”

He grinned at her, his blue eyes alight.
“Teach me.”

Delphine quirked her mouth
into a smile. “It’s like anything else. Learn about the real thing
first and
en effet
,
you will easily be able to discern between what’s genuine and
what’s counterfeit.”

“Counterfeit? There’s no such thing as
counterfeit chocolate.” Brad groaned, slapping his hand to his
head. “Oh no, don’t tell me. You’re a chocolate snob!”

“I only want to make and sell the highest
quality products,” she said primly.

His eyes glinted. “Delphine,
do you even
like
chocolate?”

She considered how to answer. It wasn’t that
she disliked it exactly…

“You hesitated!” Brad said, aghast. “How can
you open a candy shop and not be a chocoholic?”

“Because I’m depending on chocoholics like
you to keep me in business!”

He leaned forward, resting his arms against
the table. “Then let’s test this amazing snobbery, er, skill you
have. Close your eyes.”

Opening the most expensive box he’d
purchased, Brad chose a chocolate based on the description from the
leaflet inside. He glanced at Delphine. Her eyes were indeed
closed. He paused to admire the way the soft light shone on her
hair.

The last few weeks had been difficult for
him. His plan to treat her with the utmost courtesy had achieved a
certain goal—Delphine had become more relaxed in his company.

But he wanted more. He wanted to see her dark
eyes light up with something other than friendship when she looked
at him.

“Okay,” he said, putting the candy in her
hand. “Taste this chocolate and see if you can identify it without
looking.”

She obediently took a bite from the candy,
and keeping her eyes closed, smiled. “Easy. This is a high quality
dark chocolate truffle, probably Godiva.”

“Lucky guess,” Brad said, his frown at war
with a smile. “Let’s try that again.”

He chose a piece of candy from a different
bag and waited for her judgment. Her eyes flew open after taking a
bite. “Really, Brad. This is one of those chocolate football
thingies. They hardly count.”

“Snob.” Brad promptly unwrapped and ate
three at once. “Mmmm,” he garbled around his mouthful.

Delphine wrinkled her nose. “Yuck!” She
leaned forward. “You cannot tell me that the chocolate you just ate
can compare to what we made this afternoon.”

She reached behind her and picked up one of
the caramels they’d made together. “Now, think about the how the
flavor of what you just ate compares with this.”

Brad took the glossy brown candy from her
hand and popped it into his mouth. He made a show of chewing it to
annoy her, but had to admit there was a big difference.

The chocolate melted in a slow velvety way,
unlike the almost wax-like crunch of the football candy. Delphine’s
candy was aromatic, assaulting his senses with new pleasure when
the coating melted away and he tasted the caramel.

As soon as he swallowed it, he plotted how he
could snatch another one without her noticing.

“Well?”

He saw the confident, knowing gleam in her
dark eyes. He put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay,
you win. No contest.” He picked up the remaining football chocolate
and sneered at it. “Such dismal candy shall never pass my
discerning lips again!”

Delphine giggled. “See what you’ve been
putting up with, when the real thing’s been right in front of you
all this time?”

Brad’s brows notched upward.
Is she talking about chocolate or herself? A rush of adrenaline
surged through him. Maybe I should test this theory. His heart
hammered. Do I dare? Is it worth the risk of getting smacked again?
She stared at him, her cheeks flushed with color.
Oh, yeah
.

He took a deep breath. “Now, Miss D’Arleux, I
admit you’re a chocolate professional, but it’s time to find out
what I know, to see if I’ve learned anything from you yet.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“Pick any chocolate and eat it. Then I’ll
see if I can guess what it is.”

Delphine blinked in confusion. “What do you
mean?”

“Trust me. I’ll close my eyes while you pick
one. Tell me when you’re ready.”

Shrugging, she reached toward the pile of
boxes. Brad closed his eyes, struggling to keep his expression
bland while his heart beat out a frenzied rhythm.

“Okay, I ate one,” she said. “Now just how
do you plan to tell what I had?”

“Like this.” He leaned over and gently
pressed his lips against hers.

Delphine went very still. He raised his lips
an inch from hers. “My guess,” he whispered, “is milk chocolate and
coconut.”

He rested his forehead against hers,
listening to the sound of her rapid breathing, wondering if she
would punch his lights out, or kiss him back.

After what seemed like an eternity, she
reached up and touched the side of his face. Brad held his breath.
She tipped her face up and brushed her lips against his, then put
her arms around his neck and pulled him off his stool. Brad held
her tight as her lips clung to his, swept away on a tide of
sweetness he never knew existed.

When Delphine finally ended the kiss, he felt
shaken and dazed, but with a keen understanding of ‘the real
thing’.

“Well,” he croaked. “That’s better than
chocolate any day.”

Heart racing, Delphine clutched the front of
Brad’s shirt, unable to believe she’d responded to him so eagerly.
A tide of heat rose up her neck.

What must he think of me?

He looked down at her and wiggled his brows.
“Shall we try that experiment again? I need more practice.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she said with a
lightness she didn’t feel, lowering her hands to her sides.

She feared this was some kind of game for
him. But now that her world had been upended by that wondrous kiss,
how could she resume their easy-going friendship? “Um, Brad—”

A knock came at the front door of the shop.
He squeezed her hand and went to see who it was. Delphine felt
bereft at his absence. Needing a few seconds to gather her
fragmented emotions, she straightened her hair and then slowly made
her way to the front of the store—in time to see Brad’s father
entering.

“I saw the lights on and thought you’d be
here.”

“Good evening, Mr. Larsen,” Delphine said,
embarrassed he might suspect what she and Brad had been up to.

“I was in the area and have never seen your
place. Thought I’d stop in for a peek.”

“I’m glad you did,” she said, avoiding
Brad’s amused gaze. “Let me give you the grand tour.”

While she showed Mr. Larsen around the space,
she struggled to gain control of her muddled heart and mind.

She pulled in a deep breath and forced her
attention to the elder Larsen. “Brad suggested that I stress the
fact I’ll use only natural ingredients, even going so far as to
have an organic line of chocolates as well.”

“We’re having brochures printed up right
now,” Brad said, “to tell about Delphine’s experience and
schooling, the products she’ll offer, all of which will also be
featured on the website I’m setting up for her.”

“Impressive. By the way, Miss D’Arleux, I
also stopped by to ask if you would like to come to church with us
Sunday? That is unless you already have a home church.”

Delphine focused on Brad’s father. “Thank
you, Mr. Larsen, I really wish I could, but I work on Sundays. I
haven’t been able to attend for the last year or so.”

Brad looked at her in surprise. “What exactly
is your work schedule?”

“I work six days at the bakery from six to
two in the afternoon. I’m off on Mondays, but there aren’t many
church services on that day.”

“And you’re up late every night working
here. When do you sleep?” he asked.

She gave a small shrug when she saw Brad’s
expression of consternation. “I’m one of those rare people who need
very little sleep.” She looked over at Mr. Larsen. “I plan to quit
my bakery job in a few weeks or so. I would very much like to
attend with you then, if the offer still stands.”

“Of course. We’ll look forward to it.” He
shook Delphine’s hand. “You have a great place here. I’m sure
you’ll succeed beyond your wildest dreams.”

“Thank you, Mr. Larsen.”

When he had left, Brad turned to her. “I feel
horrible, Delphine. I had no idea the kind of hours you’ve been
putting in. You should’ve said something!” He took her hands in his
and gave them a little tug.

Seeing his compassionate gaze, Delphine was
tempted to share her burdens—of working so many hours to make ends
meet, of keeping her parents out of mischief, of her added worries
about the loan, not to mention running a business. But where would
it get her? He’d only feel sorrier for her, and the last thing she
wanted from Brad was his pity.

“
Ce
n’est pas la mer à boire
.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not all that bad, okay?”

He studied her expression for a time before
shrugging. “Let’s get you home.”

After cleaning and locking up the shop, they
made the drive back to her apartment. Delphine wondered what Brad
was thinking. She sent him a sidelong glance, trying to decipher
his abstracted air. What if he regretted kissing her? What if he’d
already forgotten it? She bit her lip and turned to stare out her
window.

He walked her to the door of her apartment.
“Can I come in?”

“Of course, but my parents are probably
asleep.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not expecting to
get fed. And I won’t stay long.”

Inside the apartment, soft shafts of
moonlight streamed through the lace curtains on the kitchen window.
Brad sat down on the rocker while Delphine checked on her
parents.

Once sure they slept peacefully, she glanced
around the room. On the nightstand next to her mother’s side of the
bed, her eyes fell on an empty bag of fruit candies. Thinning her
lips, she crumpled the bag in her hand and returned to the living
room.

“Sleeping like babies?” Brad asked.

Delphine held up the bag. “My mother is
diabetic. It seems whenever I’m out of the house, she indulges in
sweets. Though how she finds the money for them, I have no
clue.”