Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
I t was make or break time. Go time. The beginning of the end.
Whatever cliché Lily wanted to use, today’s festival earnings would determine the winner of the fudge shop.
But that was almost secondary to the buzzing giddiness inside her at the thought that she and Declan would finally publicize their feelings for each other. He’d been so sweet to stop by last night, but she was tired of sneaking out to meet him in the darkness.
Even though she appreciated a moonlit goodnight kiss.
Hopping off her bike, she shivered at the early morning chill in the air.
The festival didn’t start for another few hours, but she’d woken before the sun and figured she might as well get over here to start setting up.
At the very least, she could spend some time exploring the upstairs storage room.
Ever since Mom’s suggestion that she clear it out and make it a habitable living environment, Lily had been excited to get up there, to check it out and start dreaming.
Might have done it last night, but then Declan had stopped by and all thought of anything but taking a stroll with him flew from her brain. And then she’d woken today—a day all about second chances. New beginnings. Possibly a win under her belt too.
Humming to herself, Lily stuck the key in the back alley lock, opened the fudge shop, and watched her big win float right out the door along with five-hundred-million gallons of water.
And, even if that was an exaggeration, the destruction inside the fudge shop kitchen wasn’t.
“No—no—no!” She ran inside, the cold water flicking up her bare legs and her sandals sliding on the wet tiles. The bottom few inches of everything—walls, workbenches, tables—had all been wicking water.
“What happened ?” Declan’s voice came from behind her.
“I don’t know. I just got here.”
Oh no. It looked like a leaky pipe in the ceiling—positioned almost directly over her boxes of fudge—was the culprit this time. She just stared at the place where pieces of the soggy ceiling plaster had collapsed all over her boxes of fudge.
“My fudge…” She held out her hand, braced it on a marble top.
“Hey. It’s going to be okay. Let me turn the water off.” Declan disappeared in the direction of the shop’s main shutoff valve.
Lily couldn’t move, the cold water chilling her feet, her heart.
Her fudge, destroyed.
She didn’t want to look, but she had to know. Inhaling a sharp breath, she moved toward her neatly stacked boxes. Not only had the top boxes been crushed by the falling ceiling, but the ones that hadn’t wicked water up from the floor had been sprayed from the side.
Declan was wrong. It wouldn’t be okay.
He returned carrying a mop and bucket, his forehead furrowed.
“We should have had Cody look at all the pipes when the last one busted. He said that most might need replacing due to the age of the building.” He stopped and looked at her.
“Oh no. All of your fudge.” Leaning the mop against the counter, he strode over to her. “Is any of it salvageable?”
“Maybe a few boxes in the middle.” She cleared some of the rubble off the top boxes and finally got to a box that wasn’t crushed but was still soaking wet. Opened it. A mushy mess of chocolate and flowers greeted her. She couldn’t breathe. “It’s all ruined.”
“Oh, no, Lil.” Declan wrapped his arms around her from behind. “I’m so sorry.”
Wait. She straightened. Looked around. “Where’s your fudge?”
Declan dropped his arm from her waist, took a step back. Scratched behind his ear. “In the back storeroom.”
“Oh.” Convenient . She bit back the word and swiped a tear.
Frowning, he cupped her elbow. “Since we were using the same boxes, I wanted to be sure we didn’t get our offerings confused, so that’s where I told Isaac to put it.”
“Isaac?”
“Yeah, he came and helped me out last night. He even closed up so I could come see you.” He sighed. “What can I do?”
“There’s nothing to do.” She pulled the large trash can over from the corner and opened the fudge boxes one by one. “Almost all of my fudge is ruined, and the festival begins in a few hours.”
It was over. She’d lost.
Declan looked at the clock. “Make more. You still have time, and I’ll help.”
“There’s no way.” Lily lifted her hands. “Besides—look at this place. We can’t make fudge in here.”
“We can use the tables out front. Maybe the water won’t have reached that far.” Declan dried his hands on a nearby towel. “Come on, Lil. You’re the one who’s always able to pivot. To roll with things.”
“I just don’t know how this time.”
“We can mop the floors, sanitize. There’s no reason you can’t make batches of fudge this morning—the shop won’t be open to the public anyway.” He reached for her hand.
She sighed, let him take it. He squeezed, and the look in his eyes stole her breath. This seemed bad—like end-of-her-little-world bad. But Declan was here, and he wasn’t leaving or gloating. He was pitching in, trying to help her find a solution. Choosing to stay.
Lily flung herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest. “Thank you.”
He kissed the top of her head before pulling back, then cupped her face with his hands. “You’ve worked too hard to give up now. In fact, your ability to never surrender is one thing I love about you.”
She placed her hands on top of his. “Love?” And now was so not the time to be having this conversation—because hi, they still stood in several inches of water and her fudge was ruined and the kitchen was a wreck—but the one-word question just slipped out.
And she let it hang there.
Declan smiled, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. “Yeah, Lily. Lo?—”
“What’s going on here?” a man’s deep voice rumbled.
Squeaking, Lily twirled to find a red-faced Frank and Martha Kelley standing in the kitchen doorway. A key dangled from Martha’s hand.
“What are you guys doing here?” Declan asked.
“We thought we’d check and see if you needed anything since we couldn’t help last night and we won’t be setting up my booth for a few hours.
Isaac gave us the key.” Martha’s glare stayed trained on Lily for a few long moments before her gaze swerved, taking in the damaged kitchen. “Oh my. What happened in here?”
“A pipe burst in the ceiling.” Declan stepped between Lily and his parents, almost as if sheltering her from his parents’ wrath.
But no. They were in this together, right? Lily moved to stand beside Declan once again. She hooked their pinkies together.
Martha’s eyebrows shot up at the action, but she didn’t say a word. Declan’s dad either didn’t notice or ignored it as he carefully stepped sideways so as not to slip on the wet floor. “Is that your fudge, Declan?”
“It’s Lily’s. Mine’s in the storeroom.”
Martha’s shoulders visibly dropped with relief, and Lily looked away from the smug gleam in Frank’s eyes.
“This place does need a total renovation,” Martha added. “We’ll definitely be speaking with Seb about that when he gets home this week.”
Lily winced.
The jab landed a direct hit. Martha was so sure Declan would win.
And now, with so much fudge ruined, he probably would.
“Don’t count Lily out just yet. She’s going to make more fudge before the festival.
” Declan grabbed his inventory checklist off the magnetic fridge.
“I’ve still got half a gallon of vanilla extract, plenty of butter, and there’s more than two hundred pounds of sugar in the dry storage.
I know it isn’t that fancy recipe you made, but?—”
“Wait a minute, son.” Frank hitched up his pants as he strode forward, tapping the clipboard with his index finger. “You just said those are Kelley fudge supplies.” He shook his head. “You’re not going to hand those items, paid for with our money, over to her.”
“She has to make more fudge, and I’m sure she’ll pay us back.” Declan looked over at Lily.
She nodded, smiling. Because he was really doing this. Standing with her, no matter what. Her heart soared?—
Then she caught the looks on his parents’ faces.
Utter disdain. Contempt. Withering glares.
Oh. Her throat thickened. “I?—”
But Frank wasn’t done. “Declan, I feel like all that money spent on your MBA was a complete waste if that’s the kind of business sense they taught you. This is a competition .”
“Oh, come on, Dad, you can’t be serious.”
“I’m completely serious. You do understand your grandma’s place is on the line here, right? Do you want to watch her heart be broken because you were too weak to do what needed to be done? Because you sold out your family?”
Now, wait just a minute. “Declan’s just being a decent human being. And as for his grandma’s house?—”
“Frank.” Martha looked from Lily to Declan. “I think this is something we should talk about in private.”
Private.
Because this was a family matter.
And Lily would never be family—at least as far as Martha was concerned. To her, she was only a Hart. The enemy.
Declan’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking between Lily and his parents. “Fine. Let’s talk.”
Everything in Lily screamed for Declan not to go.
Not to listen to his parents—but he followed Frank and Martha right through the swinging kitchen door.
Lily couldn’t hear Frank’s words, but she could hear his hammering tone.
And, when Lily peeked out into the lobby, she could see Declan’s face fall.
Saw the way he scrubbed a hand through his hair.
His pinched reply. “Yes, sir.”
Lily’s eyes filled with tears as she fumbled her way back toward her ruined fudge and began tossing more boxes into the trash can.
Finally, Declan pushed through the kitchen door, holding it and calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be out in a minute” before turning to Lily.
“So? Can any of it be saved?” he asked.
Lily shrugged, still feeling the sting of his desertion. But he was here now. He was going to help her. That was what counted. “Maybe like forty pounds?”
“All right. Look, I’ve got to go set up the booth?—”
“Wait, what? You’re leaving me with this mess?”