A low, impressed voice feathered her ear in an almost-kiss. “You did a good job with the structure and design on those last two. They look great. I’m sure whoever you’re making that for will love it.” The possessive tone in Luke’s voice made it pretty clear who he was referring to.
“Thanks,” replied Dani, forcibly keeping herself from leaning back against him. “This class is really amazing, Luke.” Her gaze turned stern then. “Not that I’m saying this Valentine’s Day ‘chocolate for your man’ idea of yours isn’t still borderline barbaric,” she added quickly.
The lips at her ear curved into a smile. “Well then put me in a loincloth because the thought of you making something special like this just for me makes me want to drag you back to my cave.” His fingers gently brushed the backs of hers.
A warm feeling uncurled in her tummy. “Cut it out,” she whispered.
He let out a very male sigh. “You’re right. Wouldn’t want the others to think you’re the teacher’s pet. I better make sure to treat every woman in here the same way—”
His teasing was cut short by a truffle being rammed into his now laughing mouth.
With her jealousy making a rare but flagrant appearance, she looked around and thought back to some of the hushed conversations she’d overheard throughout class. Seriously, a man on the make was one thing, but a woman on the prowl? Downright scary is what it was. Though she couldn’t figure out why it was riling her so much. It wasn’t as if Luke belonged to her. He was a free agent in a sport she had no desire to participate in. Relationships. Nope, not her game. Considering the fact that she was the one imposing all the road blocks to anything more serious between them, she didn’t like this feeling of powerless possessiveness. Not one bit. “Not all of these women are in relationships, you know,” she muttered when he finished chewing. “Most of them think you’re a bigger treat than all the chocolate in this shop combined.”
“Really?” he asked, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Does that include you?”
“
I
think,” she said deliberately, “the biggest treat in here that we can
both
enjoy is that warm drizzling chocolate. You should bring some of it with you on our fifth pre-date.”
His fingers flexed sharply against her waist. “Jesus, have some mercy, woman.”
“Nope.” She licked a bit of melted ganache off her finger slowly. “Suffer in silence.”
Luke spun around and walked to the back kitchen, muttering something about needing to get something from the freezer to cool off...the chocolate.
With a satisfied smile, Dani hunkered back down and poised her hand above her last molded chocolate, trying to decide how to decorate it. The decision, it seemed, was linked to who she was making it for. Instantly, that warm feeling returned to her belly. She decided making chocolate for someone special really was a nice idea. Highly romantic.
Not that Luke would
ever
get that admission out of her.
AFTER THE LAST
of the chocolatiering students left, Dani leaned against the entrance of Desert Confections, contentedly admiring the lines of Luke’s broad back as he reached up to lock the storefront door and set the alarm. He had the body of a guy’s guy, the kind kept tan from running and playing street ball shirtless, and solid from regular lifting. Distractingly sexy. In fact, so intent was she on eyeing all those ropey muscles rippling beneath his polo shirt that she didn’t even hear the whispered oath he muttered before he snagged her by the waist and slid her in front of him. With his body blocking hers from any nosy onlookers, he bent down and seized her lips in a roller coaster kiss that told her he’d been as eager for a kiss as she’d been all night.
Oh wow.
She had to hold the door handles to keep from melting into a puddle.
“So, movie or dinner first?” he asked roughly, after finally taking a breath.
Eyes half-lidded from being so thoroughly kissed, she was sure the answer of what she wanted was written all over her face, and it wasn’t one of the two choices he’d listed.
Her very responsible mouth answered, “Dinner,” however, and his visible disappointment matched hers. She kept her resolve though. Just a few more of these friendly pre-date dates. She could do it. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. “I need food,” she told him firmly.
“You mean to tell me you didn’t get enough to eat in class?” he teased then, planting one more soft kiss on her lips before taking her hand in his and walking them over to his car.
Her cheeks reddened. She’d been quite literally a big kid in a candy store throughout class, nibbling on all the ingredients they’d worked with as if the world’s supply of chocolate were going to disappear. “I was hungry! You try cooking for eight hours straight.” Since her head cook was playing merry-go-round with his hours due to
personal matters
—aka love life drama—Dani had spent all day on the grill covering his shift. On the bright side, the flip in her schedule had finally given her an opening to squeeze in another long-awaited pre-date with Luke.
“I’m still bummed you didn’t tell me earlier. I would’ve come in for lunch,” said Luke with true disappointment in his voice. “Nothing against Javier or Dave but I always thought my lunches on Fridays and Saturdays at Ocotillos tasted just a little bit better than the ones during the week.” He slid his arm around her shoulders. “Turns out
you
were that difference.”
Dani grinned proudly at the praise. Back when Ocotillos had been her dad’s cozy craft brew tavern, Dani had learned to be a good pub and diner cook. She’d enjoyed it immensely. Truth be told, if she hadn’t taken over the brewpub, she would’ve tried opening an eatery with the same mixed-ethnic menu Ocotillos had. Maybe a bar and grill. Definitely not a restaurant though. Pretty, tiny-portions-on-giant-plates variety of metro fusion cuisine simply wasn’t her.
That’s why being the brewmaster
and
cook of Ocotillos was the best of all worlds in her book—rustic, family-style dishes made with the beer she brewed. What more could she ask for in a dream job? “Bet you didn’t think a
gringa
was making your favorite food in the kitchen, huh?” she teased, eyes twinkling. Customers often flattered her with that remark. Though the Latin American flavor profiles of her cooking was a mismatch with her fair, mostly Irish skin, she cooked the pedigree of food she grew up loving, courtesy of her dad and his favorite aunt, the two people responsible for most of the skillsets she possessed. Unlike a majority of her peers, Dani had neither a brew science degree nor formal culinary training, but she more than made up for both by pouring her heart into everything she made. It was how her dad had always done it for both his family and his customers—and how she
assumed
mothers did for their kids.
Not that she’d know firsthand.
“Un-classically trained
gringa
or not, Dani, you’re amazing at what you do.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” She smiled as her taste buds began humming over the remembered taste of his chocolates. “Your Juniper Whip is seriously the stuff of fantasies.”
His dimples flashed as he curled her closer to him. “That’s my favorite too. It’s not my fanciest or best creation but it’s the one that first made me believe I could open my own shop.”
The layered emotions in his voice did funny things to the rhythm of her pulse. Lately, just being near Luke could get her to this utopic place where smiles came for no reason and heartbeat irregularity was a constant state of being. As wild as it was comforting, it just...fit.
She faltered a step then, tripping over what was very likely her heart.
Luke caught her. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah.” She jerked back and tried to school her features before they betrayed her emotions. “Guess my leg just gave out there for some reason.”
And it was a big reason. In a word: Luke. Luke, who regularly dropped off chocolates for the residents of a nearby retirement community and care home…just because. Luke, who was great with children, generous and loving without limits or expectations, and so unbelievably patient with her that it boggled her mind sometimes. Luke, who made her weak in the knees from a kiss, sane after just a quick chat, and as safe as she’d ever felt with a simple hug. Luke, who had her seeing tiny glimpses of something she never allowed herself to see with anyone anymore.
A future.
If she wasn’t careful, she was going to fall heartbreakingly in love with the man.
Damn it.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I AM OFFICIALLY
in love with Dani.”
Frowning, Luke walked into Quinn’s office after hearing that bizarre announcement from her. “Why are you declaring your love for the woman I’m dating?”
Holy crap. He’d just barely checked the impulse to insist she not steal his line.
That couldn’t be right.
Sure, he and Dani had been talking on the phone every night for weeks now, but with their hectic schedules, they’d only been on two dates. He couldn’t really be starting to have serious feelings for the woman could he? This soon?
That was too fast, even for him. His heart
had
to know better; following his normal MO of falling hard and fast was a trip to heartbreak city where Dani was concerned. She’d made it clear she didn’t want the white-picket-fence ending with him.
No
...it wasn’t possible.
Then Quinn said Dani’s name again and the unmistakable gallop in his ribcage smacked the logicizing right out of his brain.
Well, apparently, it was possible.
Damn. When his heart set him up to fail, it evidently liked to swing for the fences.
His head was still spinning from this revelation when Quinn elatedly slapped a printout against his chest and turned her laptop around to demand his full attention.
Looking at the order on the screen he shrugged, puzzled at the degree of her excitement. “So Dani ordered some chocolates. Big deal. Most of our distributors get at least triple that.”
“Yes, but the question is
why
she ordered that chocolate. She’s planning something—a counter attack. And she’s using our chocolate to do it. I repeat, I love that woman.”
“You do know that whatever she has planned will probably skewer us.”
She dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “It doesn’t matter. All publicity is good publicity. Any tactical maneuvers she makes continues to build the hype over both your businesses.” She preened. “Our website and blog have been getting a ton of traffic since. Folks all across Arizona are weighing in...albeit, a lot for beer over chocolate, but who cares.” She swatted her hand against the shop’s financial tally paperwork she’d shoved at him. “Our sales quintupled this week alone, and that’s not even counting the advance orders for our Valentine’s Day home kits.” Tapping her finger on her chin thoughtfully, she continued to leave the muzzle off all the lightning-fast inner workings of her mind, “Maybe I should slide a mention into a few local news anchors’ twit feeds throughout the week? That might get them curious enough to look into it for a human interest story or something, get our foot traffic up even more.”
Luke shook his head in amazement. When it came to marketing, Quinn left no rock unturned. “Sometimes you scare me.”
“But most times you love me. Like now.” She pulled open a box sitting on her desk.
He leaned over to peer inside at its contents. “What are these?”
“You’d mentioned wanting something like it for women to personalize the chocolate valentines for their men. Well, I’m delivering. A week early. These are design transfer sheets similar to the ones you use to put our gold emblem on our elite chocolates. I had the same company make short little gold messages instead—just a few key phrases of our choosing. Sort of like a cross between M&Ms and candy hearts, with a provocatively sweet twist.”
Luke’s eyes widened. Provocative was putting it mildly for some of the messages.
“Oh, relax,” she said in a rare display of identity swapping with him. “They go on the bottom of the chocolates like a hidden message so they’ll be the couple’s secret. Plus, since they’re simple heat-transfers, customers can easily DIY them for their homemade chocolates. Or, for the women who’ll be buying instead of making their valentine chocolates, we can apply whatever messages they want to anything here in the shop as well.” She grinned. “I made sure to come up with a wide variety of messages—some sweet and heartfelt and ‘old school,’ others
descriptively
sexy. The extra racy ones that made your eyes pop earlier are courtesy of my sister’s dirty mind; anything more, ah,
personal
would have to be custom ordered, of course.” She looked at him expectantly. “So what do you think? If they get popular, we can do this all year round.”
He was impressed. “These are perfect. I have to hand it to you. You always manage to take my ideas and give ‘em a shot of steroids.”
“Try nuclear steroids. Check this.” She opened up their Facebook page, showing the small get-the-word-out contest she’d made.