Wyne and Chocolate (Citizen Soldier Series Book 2) (5 page)

F
or being a Monday, the day didn’t sucked half
as bad as some
, Jill thought as she put away the last of her cleaned out
molds on a metal rack in her kitchen at the shop. Only one customer had given
Theresa a hard time over a piece of fudge the lady claimed had a strand of hair
in it. A blue-gray strand. Not unlike the ones on the customer’s head.

Even
though she and her employee always wore a net over their ponytails—their
dark-haired ponytails—when they made candy, Jill believed in the old adage the
customer is always right. So, she gave the lady a free pound of chocolate
peanut butter fudge and sent her on her merry way.

It had
been worth the loss to gain the peace and quiet in the store. And it was quiet.
Blissfully so, except for the music playing quietly in the background from a
local radio station. She loved to work to music, especially with a good beat.
Made the day go faster, and the work more fun. She had a few favorites, but a
soft spot for Pitbull, and they featured him regularly. The artist’s songs were
upbeat about overcoming adversity. Something she knew all too well.

Sure,
there were plenty of others who had it far worse than her, but she’d had her
share of
potholes
in life, and related to the sexy singer’s prose.

“Is
there anything else you need me to do before I go?” Theresa asked, sticking her
head around the kitchen door.

She
wiped her hands and walked toward her worker. “No, thanks, Theresa. You can
leave. I’m done back here and can watch the store.”

“Then I
guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay,”
she said, following the woman into the store front. “Have a good night.”

She
watched her employee leave.
Employee
. It was still a little strange to
have one, instead of tackling everything on her own. She liked it. And her
shop. She glanced around. Confection Connection was at the corner of a
three-store block, and she loved having nearly two walls of windows. It let in
a ton of light that gleamed off the display cases and round glass displays
dotting the shop she did up in brown and light blue stripes. Even her tiny
awnings outside carried the color scheme.

Inside,
she did her best to convey an upbeat, welcoming atmosphere by adding bistro
tables along the windowless wall and stools at a small counter for costumers to
enjoy coffee with their ice cream and other sweet treats. Pride straightened
her spine and warmed her heart. Somehow, she managed to pull off the
old-fashioned ice cream parlor feel in a brand new building.

She’d
come so far in just a year. How had that happened?

Last
January, she’d been facing eviction, destitute, going through a divorce,
dodging bookies, praying for a miracle. Then one sunny winter morning, her
prayers had been answered by a visit from her Uncle Al. More like a snatch ‘n’
grab. He showed up at her apartment with her cousins, Nico and Evie, packed up
her meager belongings and carted her off to the Poconos.

The bell
rang above her shop door and Gwen breezed in, looking warm and chic in her
winter gear, bringing Jill’s mind out of her dark thoughts. Dressed in a red
beret and gloves, the beauty wore a white fur coat she’d been pleased to learn
was a fake and a gift to the model for work she’d done to raise awareness of
the real coats.

“Tell me
you have coffee at hand and a decadent slice of cake,” Gwen greeted. Slipping
out of her coat, she draped it on a stool before occupying the next.

“Yes and
yes,” she replied with a grin and headed to the Keurig to get their version of
happy hour started. “Rich? Or Belgium?” she asked, moving to her cake display.

“Better
make it Belgium. We had a visit from Bluebird today.”

Jill
carried two generous slices to the counter and slid one to her friend. “Who is
Bluebird?”

“Oh,
she’s a peach of an older lady who likes to come in and complain about her food
so she can get her meal for free.”

She
stilled and raised a brow. “Ah…”

Gwen’s
derisive laugh echoed through the store. “I take it she hit you up for
something, too.”

“Yeah.”
She nodded, setting a steaming cup of coffee in front of the frowning woman
before brewing another for herself. “She left here with a free pound of fudge.”

“That
old biddy,” her friend mumbled before sliding a forkful of cake in her mouth.
She promptly moaned. “Damn, girl, my sister was right. You are a chocolate
guru. This is so friggin’ good, it’s indecent.”

She sat
on the end stool and smiled. “Then I did something right.”

“Better
than right. It’s perfect. Will you marry me?”

“Depends.
Do you snore?”

“No, at
least, I don’t think so. But I doubt Mason does, and he’s much better looking
than me.”

She
froze, then glanced sideways at the woman, wondering how in the world they’d
gotten on the hottie subject.

“Look, I
know nothing happened between the two of you during that snow storm,” Gwen
said, waving her fork around. “But there’s still plenty of snow outside, and
Mason is a great guy. Maybe you should get stuck—”

“If he’s
so great, maybe you should.” Her stomach knotted as soon as the words left her
mouth, but she continued to eat her cake like nothing was wrong. Because it
wasn’t. Everything was fine. Just fine.

“This
isn’t about me,” Gwen countered, scooping up another forkful of Belgium bliss.
“It’s about you and Mason.”

“There
is no
me and Mason
.”

“Maybe
there should be,” the model stated undeterred. “Almost every woman with a pulse
in the tri-state area would love a shot at him.”

“I don’t
doubt that. He’s gorgeous. Heck, he could easily be mistaken for one of those
Calvin Klein models plastered on billboards all over the big city.”

Gwen
nodded, sipping her coffee. “True. But, he’s more than a pretty face. The guy
is a veteran and has a good heart.”

“I know,
but I’m not sure why you’re telling
me
this.”

“Because
Lea said many have tried to catch him, but he hasn’t shown the slightest interest.
Not since his busted engagement.”

He’d
been engaged? “Who in the world was the idiot who let him get away?”

Her
friend snorted. “I’ve no idea. I haven’t been around, and didn’t ask Lea, but
whoever the girl was, she needs a heart transplant. Or maybe, just a heart.
Mason is smart, a patriot, a hard worker…and you were next to me on the shore
this past summer at the lake when he and eight other hotties dove off that
dock. He’s built for sex.”

Sweet
mother of pearl, she’d been in heaven. Nine muscled hunks with board shorts
soaked and sticking to their hard bodies as they lifted themselves out of the
water mere yards away. “That was a glorious day.”

“Amen.”
Gwen sighed. “Kind of makes you all warm and tingly despite the cold snap going
on outside.”

“True.”
Jill rode the wave of heat caused by memories of Mason and his yummy, wet
ridges.

Something
about the guy had made him stand out from the others that afternoon, but she
refused to dissect why. It didn’t matter. They were acquaintances and probably
wouldn’t bump into each other for days.

“Anyhow,
the point I was trying to make was that Mason is special and deserves someone
with a good heart. He deserves you.” The woman fork-pointed at Jill. “And you
deserve him.”

“Yeah,
well…we already kind of had a talk and both agreed we’re too busy to date.”

Gwen
reeled back and blinked. “Honey, if you’re too busy to find time for that…” She
fork-pointed
in the general direction of the Wyne Resort. “Then you’re a
bigger fool than his ex-fiancée.”

Jill
opened her mouth to respond, but Gwen held up her hand.

“It’s
all right. You don’t have to say anything. I know you have your reasons.”

“Yeah. A
failed marriage.”

“Hey, it
takes two to make a marriage. You said that, remember? So, don’t even think of
trying to take all the blame.”

She
nodded, unconvinced.

“Seems
to me Donny could’ve tried a hell of a lot more.”

“He
wasn’t always a jerk. In fact, the first two years were great. It was the last
two that were bad,” she admitted with a sad shake of her head. She’d always cherish
their first two years, and try to put the rest behind her. “He had a forklift
accident at work that crushed his right hand, leaving him partially disabled.
He couldn’t work. Couldn’t drive. And he had too much pride to go on
disability.”

“I’m
sorry, Jill.”

She blew
out a breath. “Me, too. I tried to be there for him. To be his support, but I
guess I wasn’t enough. He turned to drinking, and gambling, and possibly
drugs.”

After
finding a packet of white powder in his pocket while doing their laundry one
day, she’d confronted him. He’d jumped down her throat, told her to quit
nagging and said a few other nastier things before he stormed out and didn’t
come home for nearly two weeks.

God,
she’d been so frantic, visualizing all sorts of horrors, had barely slept,
expecting a call or knock on the door from the police asking her to identify
her husband’s body. Even had his family looking for him. When he’d returned, he
was good for a while, until he found out she’d talked to his family. She
shivered just thinking about that argument.

“He was
a stranger,” she said, swallowing past old hurts. “It was like my husband had
died the day he turned to them. He’d changed. Was not the same loving, caring
man I married.”

“Because
he wasn’t,” Gwen said, squeezing her hand. “Drugs, alcohol, they change a
person.”

Something
she certainly knew first hand, but the woman’s insight suggested she’d found
out first hand, too. Jill squeezed back. “Sounds like you’ve had experience.
I’m not judging. Just stating.”

“Yeah, I
do, but it’s not what you think,” Gwen said lightly. Casually. Too casually.
“And it’s not important right now. Jeez. I’m one to talk.” Her friend
snickered. “I’m a hell of a lot more screwed up than you, so…far be it for me
to try to give you advice. I can’t even make up my own mind about a job.”

She
waited for her to continue, but the blonde just stared into her coffee as if it
held all the answers. After a minute went by without movement, Jill’s concern
increased.

“Hey,
Gwen. What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Huh?”
Blue eyes blinked at her, then narrowed. “What? I’m sorry, did you say
something?”

“Look,
I’m not trying to pry, but if you need to talk to someone—someone who isn’t
family—I have two really great ears.”

This won
her a smile.

“And one
really great heart. Thanks, Jill.” She sighed. “I’m just trying to decide about
a job opportunity.”

“You
have a photo shoot somewhere?”

God, for
Gwen’s sake, she hoped it was somewhere warm so she could live vicariously
through the model.

“No.”
The blonde shook her head. “It’s not that kind of a job. In fact, I’m done with
modeling.”

She
frowned. “Oh, I didn’t know.”

“It’s
okay. Not many do.”

“Then
what kind of job is it?”

“Cooking.”
The woman gave a half-hearted laugh. “Yesterday, Lea had called me in on a
Skype call with Brandi and her friend Kerri in Texas. You remember her, right?
She owns a restaurant down in Harland County with her sister Jordan.” When Jill
nodded, Gwen continued. “Kerri asked if I’d be interested in taking over the
cooking for her for a few months when she has her baby this spring.”

“Sounds
like something you could handle,” she said cautiously.

“Cooking?
Hell, yeah. I’ve been doing it at my daddy’s diner since I was fourteen.”

“So,
what’s the problem?”

Kerri
McCall and the other Texans they’d met a few months ago at Brandi’s wedding,
held at the resort, had been nice. They’d raved about her chocolate. A few of
the cowboys even flirted with her. One of them was a doctor. A very cute doctor
who resembled the handsome country singer Josh Turner.

Yeah,
she’d had a great time at Brandi’s wedding.

So had
Gwen.

“Does
your hesitation have to do with that hot cowboy I saw you dancing with several
times at the wedding?” she asked, noting a slight blush coloring the woman’s
face, no doubt attributed to having disappeared with the handsome guy toward
the end of the reception.

“Partly.”
Gwen cleared her throat. “I admit, I gave into a moment of weakness where that
bad boy was concerned, and although I should probably regret it, I don’t. Our
night was rather fantastic. But, I’m not looking for more, and hate the thought
of him thinking I am if I show up down there.”

Jill
blew out a breath and nodded. “I understand, but like you said, he’s a bad boy.
I got the impression he wasn’t the type to look for a relationship. You should
be okay.”

“You
think?” Light entered the woman’s gaze for the first time since finishing off
her cake.

“Yeah, I
do. So, what are
you
going to do?”

“I think
I might head down to Harland County this spring.”

Relief
eased the tightness around Gwen’s mouth still covered in red gloss despite
having devoured cake. 

“A
change of scenery will do me good.”

Something
Jill knew well. Changes of scenery. For the most part, they
were
good.

She
finished her coffee and set the empty mug back on the counter before facing her
friend. “Listen, I know there’s more going on with you, and that’s okay. I’m
not prying. I just want to make sure you know that whatever it is, it’s going
to follow you. You can’t run. You can’t hide. Texas. The Gulf. Timbuktu.
Doesn’t matter. It’ll follow. Trust me. I know.” Sometimes the heaviness, the
weight of her past snuffed out bits of newfound joy.