Chapter 14 #5
Examining his body in the mirror, he wondered if it was enough. What was Rachel’s type? Back in D.C., she’d shown them all pictures of her boyfriend, Logan, a guy she dated her final year of undergrad. He’d looked like a jerk.
And when he dumped her a few months into the fellowship, never bothering to visit her in D.C., always making her fly back to L.A., he’d proven that to be a fact.
“This is silly,” he muttered to himself, going into the bedroom, finding the shirt that fit, and getting dressed. Dark gray suit. White shirt.
And, of course, a red tie and red socks.
It took him three tries to get the knot right, but soon, it was like looking in a mirror from five years ago.
Plus twenty pounds of muscle.
“Not bad, Luview. Not bad at all,” he told his reflection.
Revved up and in need of something physical to burn off the spike of adrenaline, he decided to walk to The Food Alchemist to pick up their dinner, then head straight to the chocolate store.
But wait–candles? He wanted candles.
A quick text to Blake: You have any candles I can borrow?
An immediate reply: Sheila already thought of it. Packed you up two glass holders, candles, matches, and some rose petals like we sprinkle on our tables. Also a red tablecloth, white napkins, wine glasses, water glasses, and two sets of utensils. Need anything else?
You’re the bomb.
I am, indeed, Blake wrote back with a bomb emoji.
I owe you, Kell replied.
I’ve got a nasty pine on the north side of my house. I’ll collect later.
Kell replied with a thumbs up emoji.
As he approached The Food Alchemist, regret crept in.
The windows were all lined with soft white lights, looking magical against the snow.
Candles were set on the steps of the front porch, with red accents wrapping around twin pillars.
As he stepped inside, the extraordinary aroma made his mouth water, and the warmth and happiness in the place made him wish he could have brought Rachel here.
How was a chocolate shop conference room supposed to compare?
“Kell!” Sheila called out softly as he walked in. She gave a low, approving whistle. “You look amazing.”
Sheila wore a red silk dress that hugged her ample curves. Her updo accentuated her long neck, garland earrings glittering in the restaurant’s low lighting.
“You are a vision of beauty,” he said as she hugged him, her laugh making him grin. He pulled out his wallet to pay, but Sheila waved him off.
“It’s a trade. You’re helping with tree work.”
“This is worth way more than tree work.”
“Wait until you see the pine you're removing.”
“You sure?”
She batted at his wallet. That was enough of an answer. She looked him over again.
“Not only do you look like some fancy politician, you sound like one. When have you ever uttered the phrase ‘vision of beauty’ before?”
“When he’s looking at my prime rib,” Blake interrupted, walking into the entry with a large black insulated bag and a smaller kraft bag with the restaurant’s logo on it.
Sheila considered that, then nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Here,” Blake said to Kell. “The black bag has all the hot food. Salads and crème brulée are in here,” he said, holding up the brown paper bag with handles, “along with the utensils, linens, candles, etc. Put the dessert in the fridge.”
“This is amazing.”
“It’s what we do.”
“You don’t offer four-course takeout, Blake.”
Sheila gave Kell a happy look. “You’re our test case. We might offer this in the future, because why not? We have to turn people away because we don’t have enough tables. But we could handle more food volume, you know? Thanks for forcing us to try something new!”
“I’m about to try something new, too.”
Blake and Sheila shared a raised-eyebrow look. His cousin placed a hand carefully on Kell’s shoulder and looked him hard in the eye.
“First time tonight? You need some tips?”
Kell shrugged him off as Blake cackled.
“Shut up,” Kell growled, reaching for the bag handles and heading for the door. Sheila opened the door for him, giggling. A wall of cold air hit them.
“No coat?” she called out as he left.
“I’m running hot tonight!” he called back, passing a couple walking toward the door, people he didn’t know. The woman murmured something to her partner about takeout.
“Good luck!” Sheila called out as Kell turned to the right to head back toward Love You Chocolate.
Everything was working out perfectly. He had his haircut and shave. The suit now fit. Dinner was in his hands, and he was headed to a romantic location.
And then it hit him.
Rachel had no idea where their date was.
“Geeeez,” he groaned as he picked up his pace, reaching the store’s front door quickly. As he set the bags down, he dug his phone out of his jacket pocket.
Whew. Boyce had texted him the code.
Once he was in the store, the scent of chocolate invaded every pore, the store itself cool but not too cold.
Boyce’s text told him how to operate the thermostat in the conference room and gave him the code for the walk-in cooler where they stored delicate ingredients, in case he needed a refrigerator.
It ended with:
Please be discreet.
Kell didn’t have to wonder what that meant. Of course he wasn’t planning to actually have sex with Rachel in the chocolate shop.
That would happen later.
At his apartment, in his nice, big bed.
Although, as he entered the conference room, he did eye the table. It was nice and wide, with an ethereal view of the hot springs, the steam rising up, shimmering in the moon’s glow.
But his own bed was still better.
He got to work setting up the table. A quick text to Rachel telling her to meet him here at Love You Chocolate set off a firestorm of replies, with Rachel asking a ton of questions. That was understandable, of course–she wondered if this was about Lucinda and Boyce.
Guiltily, he realized he should have clarified.
Don’t worry, he texted her. It’s all good. I promise.
He got back a heart in reply.
The clock now showed he had twenty minutes, which he put to good use, the red table cloth and the white napkins a beautiful contrast, the small white votive candles giving off a subtle flicker.
He sprinkled the rose petals, just like they did at the restaurant.
The food was keeping warm in the insulated bag, with plates next to it, ready to go when she got here.
Salads and crème brulée were in the cooler.
Blake had sent a nice red wine that didn’t need to be chilled.
Kell was ready.
In the bathroom, he washed his hands. The reflection in the mirror startled him. Seeing his jawline, so surprisingly clean now, he felt his nerves start to really kick in.
Was this all too much? Was he reading into her signals too far?
And worse–if this worked, and they slept together, then what? Would they just go their separate ways after her February 15 meeting? Would they try for a long-distance relationship? What would be the end game?
He was never, ever leaving his hometown again. Roots he was born with had grown stronger these last five years.
And yet… love was a mighty force, too.
His phone buzzed.
I’m here, the text said.
Kell took one last look in the mirror. He flattened his palms against his suit jacket, smoothing it across his chest and hips, then he marched to the front of the shop and opened the door.
Rachel’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.
“Kell?” she gasped as he took her arm and guided her inside, the nighttime chill increasingly sharp.
“That’s me.”
“You–wow! You look like you again!”
“I’ve always looked like me,” he said as he pulled her into his arms. No pretenses tonight. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and went for one on the lips, but she giggled and pulled back, staring at him.
“I–I’m sorry! It’s just a shock. You look like twenty-three-year-old you!” Eyes combing over him from crown to toe, she said, “No, you look better than you did five years ago! That suit is on point.”
“It is?”
“The close fit is so in fashion.”
All the trouble he’d gone to today to get the suit tailored… he burst out laughing.
“And you have a face again!”
“It may surprise you to learn it’s always been there, Rachel.”
She used one finger to stroke his jaw. “I know.” Then she frowned. “I’m not sure which look I like more.”
“Come inside. Let me take your coat.” Rachel’s dark hair was a cascade of curls, pulled over one shoulder, her eyes catlike and large. Something was different with her makeup, and she smelled like roses and vanilla, a strange blend he liked.
Doing the whole gentleman thing, he helped her out of her red coat and liked what he saw.
Her black suit jacket was cut to nip at her waist, red icicle-shaped earrings shining against her dark hair.
Lips that were fire-engine red and a red silk scarf were beautiful and perfect for Love You in February.
“Let’s talk about you,” he said as he slung her coat over the back of a chair behind the cash registers. “You look stunning.”
Her thousand-watt smile made all of this worthwhile.
“It smells like heaven in here.”
“The chocolate. It’s intoxicating.”
“I meant you.” She moved close, her lips by his ear, and whispered, “You always smell like woodsmoke and lime, and pine. A few other spices, but there’s a signature scent that immediately makes me think of you when I smell it.”
“When do you smell it?”
“When I’m close to you.”
“Then let’s give you as much as possible.”
The kiss wasn’t planned, but it was definitely what he needed. Her mouth was perfect, and having her in his arms was a welcome feeling. His suit was snug, and he knew his mouth would be bright red from her lipstick, but it all felt so real, so perfect.
So inevitable.
Fate had brought her to his town for a reason.
Time to make sure he didn’t lose her again.
“So,” she said, pulling away, gazing up at him. “Is dinner nothing but chocolate?”
He jokingly smacked his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that? It would have been so much easier.”
“Easier?”
“We’re having a four-course dinner.”
“Where?”
“Here.”