Cowboy looked at Carly and said, “Why don’t I hang around for class, darlin’? Make sure things don’t get out of hand.”
“No!” Carly and Birdie said at once.
Birdie grabbed her purse and hurried around the counter toward them. She took Cowboy by the arm and dragged him toward the door. “Come on, Cowboy. I need your help with my car.”
She pulled open the door, and Cowboy stilled, an immovable mountain. He looked Carly dead in the eyes and said, “You sure you’ve got this?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said far more confidently than she felt. Her eyes drifted to Zev, and a smug grin spread across his face. She realized she was playing with her stupid earring again and dropped her hand, wishing she could tie it down.
“Let’s go, Cowboy,” Birdie said loudly. “Damsel in distress here. My car needs fixing.” She moved behind him and shoved him out the door, calling over her shoulder, “Class list is in the drawer. See you tomorrow. Have fun!”
“Your taste in men sure has changed,” Zev said with a playful look in his eyes, closing the distance between them. “Do you have an open relationship with him, too?”
Carly struggled to keep a straight face. “Why would I limit myself to just one boyfriend when there are so many buff cowboys around here?”
“What’d you do, put out an ad in the local newspaper?”
Without thinking, she fell back on their storytelling days. “Actually, he rescued me. My car broke down, and suddenly there he was, sitting on a big, beautiful white horse. He fixed my car just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “He followed me home, and I climbed onto his horse, and we rode off into the sunset. The rest is history.”
Zev stepped closer, electricity sparking between them. Her breathing quickened, and she tried to reel it in. But she missed this. She missed him. She wanted to keep up the storytelling, to build a tale they both wanted to continue, like old times. But that was dangerous. The line between playing and touching had always blurred fast for them, like wicks of dynamite igniting, unstoppable and explosive.
“It’s hard to believe the woman who used to get jealous if a girl asked me for a ride home would have an open relationship with any man, much less two.” He paused just long enough for that truth to make her chest ache.
Was there anything he didn’t remember about her?
“That makes about as much sense as the woman who despises milk chocolate working in a chocolate shop, Carls.”
His tone was warm, as if basking in good memories. She hadn’t always despised milk chocolate. When they were in fourth grade, they’d stolen and eaten an entire bag of chocolate bars from her parents’ pantry, and she was sick all night. He’d begged his parents to let him spend the night so he could help her feel better. But since they’d stolen the chocolates, his parents must have known the worst punishment was keeping them apart, and they hadn’t allowed him to stay over. Carly hadn’t been able to stand the taste of milk chocolate ever since. Why did knowing he remembered that make keeping her distance even more difficult?
Trying to climb out from underneath that memory, she forced herself to redirect to the present and said, “I don’t just work here—I own the shop—and I need to get ready for my class. You should get going.”
“That cute little brunette already took my money for the class. Besides, you, me, and melted chocolate? That has fun written all over it. You might not like milk chocolate, but you know I love it. And on you…?” He leaned in, his eyes darkening as he said, “I could eat that all night long.”
She inhaled shakily just as the door to the shop opened and a young couple who had signed up for the class last week walked in. They’d been so touchy-feely, they’d reminded Carly of how close she and Zev used to be. She hadn’t thought much about it at the time—there was always something reminding her of Zev—but now that he was standing right in front of her, it brought those memories rushing in, making her even more nervous.
She forced her attention to the couple and said, “The class is starting in fifteen minutes. Feel free to look around.” Lowering her voice, she said to Zev, “I have to get ready, and if you’re staying, you’ll need to keep your chocolate fantasies to yourself.”
“I never said anything about fantasies.” His lips quirked up. “But it’s good to know where your thoughts have gone.”
The heat in his voice seeped beneath her skin, unearthing all those dark fantasies she pretended didn’t exist. He licked his lips, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her. She struggled to ignore the desire bubbling up inside her, but it was like trying to keep a wave from crashing over the shore.
He leaned impossibly closer and whispered, “They must be good. You’re blushing.”
With a frustrated groan, she spun on her heel and stalked toward the kitchen. It was going to be a very long night.
Chapter Four
ZEV WAS MEZMERIZED. The last forty minutes had been bittersweet, watching the girl he’d loved as the professional woman she’d become. Carly moved confidently around the kitchen of the chocolate shop looking hot as sin in denim shorts and a red T-shirt that had SURRENDER TO DIVINE INTERVENTION printed across the chest in brown swirly letters. If he were a man of faith, he might take that shirt as a sign, or at least try to convince Carly of it. But this was her domain, and as much as he wanted to explore the fantasies he’d seen simmering in her eyes earlier, he was enjoying seeing this side of her. She talked as much about the history of chocolatiering as she did about the recipe for the white-chocolate almond-butter cups they were making. She handled the class with humor, grace, and a certain level of authority, making her even more impressive. Everyone was having a good time, although Carly was giving the others one-on-one attention and pointedly not getting too close to Zev. But that didn’t stop him from catching every one of her stolen glances.
He didn’t blame Carly for keeping her distance. Despite the indifference she was trying to portray, there was no escaping their intense connection.
“Zev, you’re going to burn the chocolate,” Miranda, the flirtatious blonde working beside him at the stove, whispered. She had been trying to get his attention since the class began. “You’re supposed to take it off the double boiler and scoop half of the white chocolate into a bowl so you can mix in the matcha.”
“Right. Thanks.” Zev tore his eyes away from Carly, who was praising a couple’s efforts, and picked up the pot of white chocolate. “Excuse me, Teach?” he called out.
Carly turned his way, and in her beautiful blue eyes he saw the walls she’d been erecting since the class started. The walls he was determined to take down.
“I think I need a little hands-on attention over here,” he said coyly.
“I’ll help you!” Miranda exclaimed.
That wasn’t the attention he was looking for, but as Miranda showed him how to sprinkle in the matcha, there was no hiding the jealousy wafting off Carly like a breeze. This would probably earn him a solid place in hell, but he decided to use it to his advantage, turning all of his attention to Miranda.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re very good with your hands.”
“You have no idea how good. Have you taken her classes before?” Miranda whispered. “I don’t think she likes you very much.”
“No? I thought she really dug me.”
Miranda shook her head. “It sounds like you need a few lessons in the ways of women.” Her eyes drifted down his chest, and she said, “I can help you with that, too.”
“I bet you can.” He snuck a glance at Carly, who practically had fumes coming out her ears as she strode to the front of the room.
“You’re all doing great.” Her eyes found Zev’s, the jealousy of moments ago morphing to a look as icy as winter wind. “I’m sure you don’t want to be here all night, so let’s keep moving along.” She shifted her gaze away and said, “Put a teaspoon of white chocolate into each mini muffin cup and then we’ll get them into the fridge to chill and start to tidy up our works
paces before we add the almond butter and the final layer of white chocolate.”
Miranda spent the rest of class brushing against Zev every chance she got and whispering double entendres, while Carly avoided him completely. Zev kept his eyes on Carly and his ears open as she talked about chocolate being her life and long hours spent in the shop. He took it all in, trying to unravel his thoughts and figure out hers. Aside from trying to avoid what was so clearly still between them, she was impressively comfortable and in control in that kitchen. He was having trouble reconciling the girl who had dreamed of being a world-traveling archaeologist and had hated the confinement of working retail when they were in high school with the woman who appeared to be living a life that was primarily indoors.
By the time they finished making their white-chocolate almond-butter cups and cleaning up their workstations, Zev had come to the conclusion that there was probably a modicum of truth to his not knowing who Carly was anymore, at least on the surface. But while she might have changed directions, he had a feeling that the dreamer in her wasn’t gone for good. She’d poked her pretty mischievous head out with the story she’d told about being rescued by that fricking cowboy. And the jealousy that had simmered in Carly’s eyes had definitely belonged to the girl he’d fallen in love with.
Carly handed out boxes for them to take their chocolates home and made her way around the room praising each person’s efforts and thanking them for coming. Zev took his time putting his treats into the box. He had no plans of leaving without getting a few minutes alone to talk with Carly. He wanted to clear the air, to figure out if their breakup was the reason she’d stopped pursuing her dreams. They’d started college together, and he’d always assumed she’d gone on to get her archaeology degree. How did she end up in Colorado? How long had she been there? Hell, he wanted to know everything about her. Including how much she hated him for leaving.
Unfortunately, Miranda was packing up just as slowly as he was. She eyed his chocolates, which didn’t look great, and said, “I still don’t understand why yours are so uneven.”
I was too busy watching Carly to worry about how much chocolate I was pouring into the cups. “I guess I was sidetracked.”
Miranda touched his arm and said, “I can’t say I’m sorry for sidetracking you.”
Zev glanced at Carly, who had fire in her eyes.
“That’s one of the hazards of flirting in the kitchen,” Carly said sharply. “You got lucky. Usually someone gets burned.”
Zev’s chest constricted, and he shifted his arm out of Miranda’s reach.
“I guess we’ll have to stay out of the kitchen from now on.” Miranda giggled.
“I need to be out of here in a few minutes, so if you two could wrap it up, that would be great.” Carly gave Zev a scathing look and said, “I’ve got to do something in my office. I hope you don’t mind showing yourselves out.”
Fuck. He’d meant to get Carly jealous, not to piss her off.
“Thank you!” Miranda called after her. She turned to Zev and said, “Want to hit the bar down the street?”
“I can’t, thanks. I have to meet an old friend.”
“Oh,” she said with a frown. “Well, do you want to exchange numbers? Get together another time?”
“Actually, I’m not in town for very long. But I’ll walk out with you.” He picked up his box and they walked through the shop. As he opened the door, he said, “Thanks for helping me in class.”
“It was fun. You sure you don’t want my number?”
“You’re a beautiful woman, Miranda. But I gave my heart away years ago, and trust me, I’m not worth your time.”
Her brow wrinkled. “How do you know I’m not just looking for one night of fun?”
“Even if you were, I’m not. Take care, Miranda. I just realized I left something in the kitchen.”
He closed and locked the door and headed back toward Carly’s office.
She was standing by the sink in the kitchen when he walked in. He tossed the box on the counter, startling her. Carly dropped the pan she was holding, and her hand flew to her chest. “You scared the life out of me.”
“I’d rather scare the pants off of you,” he said as he came around the counter.
Her eyes narrowed. “Where’s your girlfriend?”
“I’ve only had one girlfriend in my life.” He closed the gap between them, enjoying the flare of heat in her eyes, and said, “And I’m looking at an older, more beautiful version of her.”
“Zev.” The warning came out breathy.
His dreams couldn’t compare to that sound. “Say it again.”
She shook her head, looking sultry and hauntingly beautiful.
He caressed her cheek, and longing rose in her eyes. “Your skin is still as soft as velvet.” He brushed his thumb over the seam of her sweetly bowed lips, and they both sighed.
“Zevy,” she whispered, full of desire. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” he said, surprised by his honesty, but there was no stopping it now. “I’ve missed you, Carls.” He ran his fingers up her arm and threaded them into her hair. His entire body exhaled, as if he’d been waiting his whole life for that simple touch. “God, Carls, I’ve even missed your fucking hair.” The urge to kiss her was overwhelming. She licked her lips, and he felt himself leaning closer. “Tell me you haven’t thought of me, you haven’t missed me, and I’ll walk out that door.”
“No you won’t,” she said with a slow shake of her head and a plea in her eyes. “You can’t.”
“You’re right, I can’t. But if you had said it, I wouldn’t do this.”
He lowered his lips to hers, praying she wouldn’t push him away. Their first touch was electrifying. He kissed her rough and greedy, devouring her sweet, sinful taste like a starving man at a buffet. He’d wondered if she would react differently to him after all this time. If she would be as eager as she had always been, battling for control and giving in to submission in equal measure. But she was right there with him, just as she always had been. She rose up on her toes, making hungry noises as she grabbed his head with both hands and opened her mouth wider. He’d missed her so fucking much, he grabbed her ass and held tight. He was hard, and she was soft and perfect. Years of repressed desire surged through his veins, and a growl roared out as he hoisted her onto the counter and recaptured her mouth. He hauled her to the edge, wedging himself between her legs, grinding against her. He wanted to strip her naked, relearn all the dips and curves of her body, pleasure every inch of her until they were too worn out to speak. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew they needed to talk, but he was lost in her. In his Carly. His thoughts fractured, and the world faded away, until there was only the feel of her body pressing against his, her hot, willing mouth kissing him back, and her intoxicatingly familiar taste. He didn’t know if he was dreaming, awake, or stuck in some alternate forgiving universe, but he never wanted to leave.
Then he felt what he feared most. Her hesitation. The gears in his head started churning again as she slowed her efforts, pulling back the slightest bit. He fought the urge to deepen the kiss, to try to get her to fly away with him for just a little longer. He reluctantly drew back and touched his forehead to hers, wishing he’d never have to let go. She clung to his back, her nails digging through his shirt. They’d never needed words, but he felt them climbing out of his heart, clawing up his throat, and tumbling from his lips. “I’m sorry, Carls. I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t,” she said in a strangled voice, and pressed her hands to his chest. “I can’t do this with you. I can’t fall in love with you again.”
He didn’t move with the force of her hand, keeping her close as he said, “You don’t have to. You never fell out of love with me. I feel it, Carls.”
She looked away, and in a thin voice she said, “Just go.”
“Carly—”
She met his gaze, and the anguish in her eyes had him reaching for her again. But she leaned away and said, �
�Please go, Zevy. I need you to leave.”
She’d let him in, even if only briefly, giving him hope despite her words. He gritted his teeth, wanting to demand she let him stay, or plead if that’s what it took, and knowing he couldn’t do either. “I’ll go,” he relented. “But we’re not done, Carly. You know we’re not done.”
Chapter Five
CARLY FLEW OUT of her pickup truck Monday morning and bolted through the doors of Divine Intervention more than an hour late. She must have forgotten her phone at work last night, which meant she’d had no alarm this morning.
“Good morning!” she said as she darted past Birdie and a customer and headed into the kitchen. She didn’t slow down until she reached her office, where she dropped her bag on the desk and turned on her computer. She was supposed to turn in an order last night, and she’d completely forgotten. Now she’d have to work some kind of magic to have the products shipped in time to make the specialty order for her customer’s baby shower this weekend. She also needed to order supplies for the festival.
She hated to be rushed. She’d run the chocolate shop without so much as a hiccup for years, and in one evening Zev Braden managed to turn her calm, cool, ultra-organized life upside down. She’d almost forgotten the true power of his ravenous and magnificent mouth. It had always been her biggest pleasure—from the things he said, to his kisses, and the way he’d used it in places that made her toes curl.
She flopped into her chair, cursing herself for kissing him last night and knowing she’d do it all over again no matter what the stakes. He was the king of kisses. Even her favorite documentaries hadn’t taken her mind off them last night.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she typed an email to the supplier of the European chocolate her client preferred. She wiggled in her seat, trying to get used to the thong she’d been forced to wear. She hated thongs. Sunday night was her laundry night, and she’d been so flustered after kissing Zev, she had completely forgotten about that, too. If not for Birdie’s shopping trip, she would’ve had to wear dirty shorts. It was times like these when she wished she were a clothes hoarder like most women. But Carly had never been big on owning too much of anything. Birdie was forever teasing her about being the only woman business owner who was proud of being able to fit all of her clothes in one suitcase, and still fit in her clothes from when she was twenty. Carly still had T-shirts from every concert she and Zev had attended, and according to Birdie, she wore them all too often. She’d always been a utilitarian. It was one of the first things she and Zev had realized they had in common. They used to dream about living in a van and being able to pick up and travel on a whim.
Searching For Love – the Bradens & Montgomerys (Pleasant Hill – Oak Falls) Page 5
