Vodka and Chocolate Drops: A Blueberry Springs Sweet Chick Lit Contemporary Romance

by Jean Oram

  But she’d already made him wait so long. He wanted her. They knew each other better than anyone else.

  She couldn’t chicken out. What if this was the only chance she got? She cleared her throat, placed her hands on Scott’s waist and tipped her head up to meet his half-amused eyes. “I’m ready.”

  “Yeah? Then prove it.”

  “I’ve been trying!” She pushed away from him. “I was going to do this grand gesture thing up here today, but I thought of what a pain in the butt that would be for you because you’d have to arrest me. I am so sick and tired of you telling me I’m not ready, and wanting marriage before we even have a date. I can’t promise you forever when we hadn’t even had today. You’re expecting too much from me, Scott. I can’t do it. I can’t give you everything because I don’t even have everything.”

  She froze. What did that mean?

  “You’re an incredible friend. I’m just…” She sputtered to a halt, Scott’s gaze so intense and probing it broke her heart.

  “Just what?” His hands were flexed at his sides, his body coiled with something she wasn’t sure she liked.

  Tears were streaking down her cheeks like missiles. “I’m scared, okay?”

  “Of me?”

  She shook her head, picking at the pine gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

  “Then?”

  She shrugged, unable to say it, a large lump forming in her chest, making it difficult to breathe without hiccuping.

  “What?” His voice was loud, echoing back over the valley.

  “Of… of ruining everything. Okay?” She stood up, suddenly angry. “Of wrecking everything. Our friendship. Your reputation. I mean, look at me. Actually look at me, Scott. Not who you think I am or my potential or your fantasy of me or whatever you think you see. I’m nothing special. I screw things up. My family is one big screwed-up secret. I’m not something great and wonderful. I like Blueberry Springs. I like waitressing. I’m… I’m one step away from showing up at bingo with curlers in my hair. I’ll never be mayor. I’m the kind of person boyfriends make fun of in books. I can’t… I just…” Amber choked up, feeling so empty and worthless and hurt that she couldn’t even begin to process everything swirling up within her like a muddy lake bottom in a storm. She collapsed onto the metal walkway with a clang, sobbing as every worthless feeling inside broke free.

  She covered her face, embarrassed at the way she was ugly crying in front of the man she had planned to woo. She didn’t know whether to be mad at him for giving her space and not comforting her, or relieved.

  “They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” she sniffed through her tears, “but I sure don’t feel any stronger.”

  “You’re also not dead,” he said, carefully placing himself beside her so they were shoulder to shoulder. “That’s something, right?”

  She let out a choked laugh, mopping her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

  “You’re even leaving,” she said. “Leaving the town you love. Leaving me. How can you ask for forever when you’re not staying?”

  “Aren’t you leaving?” His voice was gentle.

  Stupid Blueberry Springs. Of course she wasn’t leaving. The town had her hooked. She’d served her first burger, and now she was stuck here forever. It had lured her into its comforting familiarity, and now the idea of moving back to the city, of being a stranger who didn’t matter, felt exhausting and chilling.

  “I’ve always been honest about where I stand on that matter,” she said, not wanting to let him be right. “I’m not going to change.”

  She’d tried and had failed.

  “I happen to like you the way you are.”

  “No you don’t!” she exploded. “You want me to change. You say I’m not ready, and all this other mumbo-jumbo, instead of wanting me the way I am.” She stood, yelling at him, not caring if anyone in the park below could hear her. “I want a man who is proud of me, proud to be by my side and tell everyone that he loves me just the way I am. Who isn’t secretly trying to make me into something else. I’m not anyone else. I’m me. I’m Amber and I serve a purpose. I’m important.”

  Scott’s expression became unreadable. “I never asked you to change. I only want you to come to me when you’re ready. Ready to be mine until the end of time. You can never brush your hair again and I’ll still love you, still want you as mine. But you have to be ready, Amber. You have to be ready in here.”

  He pointed to her heart.

  “And until you can say the words I need to hear, you’re not.”

  Damn him. Damn him and his perfect lines crumbling her inner bitchiness. Damn him for always being right.

  He gently placed a kiss on her lips, which brought her falling against him, trying to get closer, willing the tingles that seared her skin to never stop, but to keep building as she knew they would. As they would only with a man like Scott. Only Scott.

  He broke away and she said, “You are one steamy guy, Officer Malone, and if there is one thing I do in this life it will be to prove to you that I am ready.”

  His gaze burned and he grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He stared at her with an intensity that made her feel as though there could never be any secrets between them. That he saw the truth—she did love him, even if she couldn’t say the words.

  He blinked, breaking the spell. “You don’t even own curlers and you don’t play bingo.”

  She lifted her chin, jerking free. “I could buy curlers. Maybe those fuzzy ones I’ve seen Mary Alice wear while walking her dog.”

  “But you won’t.” His gaze was smoldering again. “I won’t let you.”

  “Try and stop me.”

  His look took her breath away as he snatched her hand, pushing it above her head against the water tank. Then he kissed her in a way that made her think maybe he had seen all of her all this time, and maybe, just maybe, he still loved her. And all she had to do was find that secret piece that would put them together.

  Forever.

  Chapter Eight

  Amber was a mess. Scott had kissed her like crazy there against the water tower, then let her go.

  She’d lain awake all night thinking about him, his kisses, and how she wanted more. A lot more.

  Amber paced around her yard, wondering how on earth she was going to find a version of herself that was ready to dive into forever without even a first date. She trusted Scott, loved him. But there was still something about herself that prevented her from saying those three little words. They were so simple.

  “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

  Simple. Easy. And completely unavailable when she needed them the most.

  She needed to figure it out.

  And then there was her mother. Amber was getting nowhere there, either.

  She sat on her front step, inhaling the fresh mountain air. She would miss the way mornings smelled in Blueberry Springs if she went back to Dakota. The quiet. The peacefulness. The way she’d see bears walking down the road, toward town to find garbage to munch on before the berries ripened.

  Bear.

  Amber scrambled to flatten her back against the closed door behind her, not moving, even though the animal was well over two hundred feet away. She’d never liked the fact that bears sometimes came into town. When they did it usually meant the berries weren’t ready and they were looking for other meal options.

  Such as Amber.

  Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she quickly texted Scott, alerting him about the situation. The idea of him having to deal with the wild animal sent her heart racing. Bears tended to be fairly predictable, and Rob Raine—Jen’s boyfriend—would likely be doing most of the bear herding. But Amber knew Scott would be backing him up, trying to chase the bear out of town.

  Was this love—a deep-seated fear that something would happen to Scott and she wouldn’t have the chance to tell him how she felt?

  A familiar tightness gripped her vocal cords at the thought of expressing
how she felt. What would it take to be able to tell him?

  Maybe finding her sister and her father were the missing pieces. Maybe it did matter more than she’d realized. Maybe knowing them would help her get over this feeling inside that she wasn’t enough, help her understand herself better. It seemed ridiculous to depend on someone else to figure out what she needed to fix, but she was out of ideas again.

  The dress and the grand gesture had belly flopped. All that was left was being herself.

  Which would be easy if she knew who she was. If she knew where she had come from. If she understood how it all fit together.

  And there was only one person who could help her with that.

  Her mother.

  Realizing that she had no car, no golf cart, and a bear was in the middle of the road, Amber groaned. She was trapped.

  Sighing, she climbed into her car, hoping for a miracle. She fished the keys from above the visor and held her breath as she cranked the engine, keeping her forehead against the steering wheel as the motor turned over, first try.

  She sat up, staring out the dusty windshield at the town nestled in the valley below. Blueberry Nosy-Rosy Springs. Someone must have fixed her car, because no amount of sitting would have cured the shudder it had had just before it died.

  She grinned.

  “I love you, Blueberry Springs. See? I can say it. Love, love, love.”

  Maybe her life wasn’t what she wanted it to be yet. Maybe it wasn’t as exciting as she had dreamed it could be. But it wasn’t so bad, either. She didn’t need a lot to be happy, so maybe she simply needed to stop trying to chase dreams that weren’t her own, and start loving it.

  * * *

  “Mom?” Amber walked through the house, searching for her.

  “I’m out back,” Gloria called.

  Amber joined her on the patio, where she was tending to her garden—everything in pots so she could bring it in on cool days and nights up here in the mountains, thereby extending the season. When she saw Amber’s expression, she rocked back on her heels.

  Amber sat on the edge of the patio, hugging her legs against her chest. “I’m going to visit Delia on the weekend,” she said. “Would you like to meet her?”

  Her mother studied the lettuce in front of her, plucking a dried leaf. “Is she… What’s she like?”

  “She’s really nice.” Amber held her breath as her mom watched her for a long moment, deciding.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, you’ll meet her?” Amber let go of her legs and stood. She could barely believe it was that easy. All she’d had to do was ask. It seemed too simple.

  “I figure if all of Blueberry Springs has met her, then I probably should, too.”

  Amber hesitated, wondering how far she should push. Should she take the success and run with it, or could she ask about her father, as well?

  Life was short.

  It was her right to know. What was the worst that could happen?

  “Can I meet my dad, too?” Amber gave her mom a playful look in hopes of easing the bluntness of her question.

  “Don’t push it, Amber Lynn. The last thing I need is you running around town trying to figure out who he is. It’s bad enough that you have everyone thinking you hate the man. Word is going to get back to him, if it hasn’t already, you know.”

  “I thought he didn’t know who I was?”

  Her mother’s lips turned white as she pressed them together. “He doesn’t.”

  “Then why would you say that?”

  “He’s not a stupid man.”

  “So he does know who I am, even though you lied to him?”

  “Nobody wants to think they are hated. I raised you better than that.”

  “I thought you said he didn’t live in town.”

  “I never said that.”

  Amber sat on the edge of the patio once again. Her father knew who she was and lived in town. He had seen her grow up and hadn’t stepped forward. He didn’t want her as part of his family. She had disappointed him somehow.

  The thought brought tears to her eyes and she jumped to her feet again, heading back into the house.

  “Amber?” her mother called, worry lacing her voice.

  She needed to get out of here, but couldn’t stop the tears from falling. It had felt so freeing, thinking that her father hadn’t rejected her. That there was a possibility he might still want her in his life even though she was an adult.

  “Amber.” Her mother caught up with her at the door, since she was unable to leave without showing the town that she was bawling her face off. “Oh, Amber. I am so sorry.”

  “He knows who I am and hasn’t stepped forward?”

  “Oh, honey. I wish it were simpler. He’s just trying to respect my wishes. I did what I thought was best for everyone.”

  “Tell him I want to meet him,” Amber pleaded. “Were all adults. Please, Mom. I just want to know.”

  “Amber, it will change everything.”

  She had thought knowing who her father was no longer mattered, but was beginning to feel as though he was the one thing that mattered most.

  “Then maybe it’s time for change.” Amber gently shut the door behind her as she fled her mother’s house.

  * * *

  Amber parked her car in front of Mandy’s restaurant. She was early for the meet-up where she would introduce her mother and sister to each other.

  She had barely spoken to her mom since the blowup about her father, and wasn’t sure if Gloria had talked to him or not. But as if to make a point, her mother had suggested she meet Delia in Blueberry Springs. And in a public venue, no less.

  Amber wasn’t sure what it meant, but hoped to know soon. It was ten minutes to eight and the café was quiet, other than the odd tourist having a late supper. Except her mother was already there. As was Delia. They had already met and were sitting head to head, chatting over the table that separated them, sharing one of Mandy’s huge whiskey-and-gumdrop brownies.

  Amber stood in the doorway, not quite believing her eyes. She had trusted Delia. Had thought nobody could ever replace her in her mother’s eyes. But there they were. Acting as though they had known each other for years.

  She almost turned to flee, feeling as though she was a third wheel, but her mother—their mother—spotted her and waved her over, smiling.

  Amber gave her a hug, even though it wasn’t her usual thing when they’d seen each other recently. She had a suspicion that sibling rivalry was providing the deep-seated urge to claim ownership over her mother, as though it was a competition. As though she had to flaunt in Delia’s face that she was first in their mom’s thoughts and heart.

  She didn’t like acting this way, and definitely didn’t like the feelings storming around inside her like a bad case of indigestion.

  “You two have met?” Amber said, stating the obvious as she sat down.

  “It’s as though we’ve known each other all of our lives. It’s incredible,” Delia stated, forking more brownie into her mouth.

  She looked so happy that Amber felt bad for not wanting to share their mom. But she wanted Gloria all to herself. Delia already had a mother, and didn’t need two. Three, if you counted her mother-in-law. She was flush with mothers. She also had two dads—she’d met her biological father through the government adoption database already—plus she had a father-in-law. Amber had one parent. One. And Delia, her sister, was honing in on her.

  A red haze flashed in front of Amber’s eyes, and she feared she was going to say something rash. She needed to get a grip on the anger ripping through her.

  But seeing the two so cozy…

  Breathe, Amber. It’s okay. Your mom still loves you.

  “I’m going to go get a brownie,” she said, wondering for a second if they would tell her to simply grab a third fork and share with them. They didn’t.

  She went to the counter and ordered one, handing Ethan her money.

  “Is she a cousin?” he asked, placing change in her pa
lm.

  “She’s related, yes.” Amber still didn’t know if her mother was letting the Delia secret out or not.

  “She seems cool. A lot like you.”

  “Yeah. Just like me.” Only better. More exciting.

  Amber headed back to the table, focusing on her treat instead of the way her sister and mother were talking a mile a minute with no attempts to include her.

  “Sorry I was late,” she said. “I thought we said eight.”

  Her mom patted her hand, not looking away from Delia, who was asking about Gloria’s personal history and how she’d met Delia’s father. Amber feared her mother would clam up at the mention of her old high school boyfriend, but instead she smiled at Delia and said, “Anything you want to know, just ask. There are no secrets.”

  “Do people know who Delia is?” Amber interjected. “Or is that still a secret?” She knew she was giving her mother tone, but couldn’t help it. She was fed up with the mysteries and the stingy delving out of information. How could Gloria offer to tell Delia everything when Amber was still receiving so little? And why was Amber’s father a bigger secret compared to an entire secret child? A secret child whose father had sought her out despite abandoning her before birth.

  “Are you okay?” her mother asked.

  “I’m fine. So?” Amber crossed her arms. “Can I tell people I have a sister? Or do I have to keep lying to the town and dodging questions so that you can keep having your big secrets?”

  “Amber!” her mother scolded, darting a glance at Delia, who looked uncomfortable.

  “Would you like a few minutes?” Delia asked.

  “No, it’s okay. I’m leaving.” Amber stood up, catching a glimpse of Frankie walking toward Mandy, his gait slow and patient. As the couple kissed their hellos Amber squeezed her hands into fists, fighting for control. Friends to lovers. Just one more thing she couldn’t have.