The Valentine Quest (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 5)

by Melissa McClone

  “Watch each team,” he whispered. “See if there’s a better way to get through the course. Note where they make mistakes and figure out what they did wrong.”

  Nevada shot him a sideways glance. “You’re being methodical about this.”

  “You have to be if you want to win.” The first two teams did well. “We’ll need to move fast. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.” Her voice sounded stronger. Not quite adamant, but not hesitant, either.

  Maybe they could pull this off. “I’ll try not to jostle you when I’m carrying you.”

  “Don’t worry about jostling me,” she said. “I just hope I’m not too heavy.”

  “You won’t be.” Too heavy was a term he might use with cattle, never a pretty woman. No man in his right mind, or at least who appreciated the female gender, would use that term with one.

  “Next,” the obstacle course starter called. She held a clipboard.

  “Hey, Rosie,” he said. Rosie Linn sometimes worked at the chocolate shop. Less hours than she worked last fall, but that was before she and her brother started writing screenplays for a television series.

  Rosie grinned. “First name, please.”

  Nevada stepped forward. “Nevada.”

  He followed her. “Dustin.”

  “You must piggyback your partner between obstacles. If you don’t or if you miss an obstacle, a thirty-second penalty will be added to your total time. Any questions?”

  Nevada shook her head, as did Dustin.

  “Get ready,” Rosie said.

  Dustin stood in front of Nevada. “Hop on.”

  She didn’t move. “I feel weird about this.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “We have no choice unless you want to quit.”

  “It’s still awkward.”

  “Yes, but even if we hadn’t teamed up, we’d still have to find a partner.”

  “True.”

  She didn’t sound convinced. He’d try again. “And it’s better than if we were doing the course naked.”

  “We’d get frostbite.”

  That was where her mind went with naked?

  “And hypothermia,” she added.

  Ivory tower. He bit back a laugh. “Hop on.”

  A deep inhale was followed by an extended exhale. “Ready?”

  He bent his knees so she’d have an easier time. “Yes.”

  She hopped up. Her arms went on his shoulders. Her body pressed against his back. Her legs wrapped around him.

  He held onto her thighs.

  Forget being cold. His blood was simmering and would be boiling soon.

  She moved, and the slight wiggle raised his temperature another ten degrees.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He needed to stop thinking about her body being soft in all the right places. “I’ve got you.”

  “Good, but if you need to drop me—”

  “I won’t.”

  Rosie pointed to the starting line. “3, 2, 1… Go!”

  With Nevada on his back, he sprinted to the first obstacle, a tunnel with red and pink streamers hanging down from the top. She wore a heavy jacket and so did he, but her chest jiggled against his back.

  Focus.

  He ran into the tunnel. The streamers hit his face. More than once, he had to close his eyes.

  “Aren’t I supposed to get off?” she asked.

  “The rules said to carry your partner between obstacles, but they said nothing about having to put you down. We were faster than the team before us.” Running toward a hurdle course, he ignored a twinge in his knee. “But I can’t carry you through this one.”

  Nevada hopped off and darted over the small hurdles.

  He followed her. “You’re quick.”

  She got on his back. “My high school soccer coach made us do jumping drills for conditioning. Guess my muscles remembered.”

  He hoped his muscles and body forgot what she felt like. Each time she moved, a flash of heat zigzagged through him.

  Focus.

  They were racing, not fooling around.

  The next obstacle was rows of two tires. If football players could do this, so could he. “I’ll carry you.”

  “Your knee.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He made it through the four rows before red-hot pain sliced through his knee. Grinding his teeth, he kept going.

  And didn’t drop Nevada.

  But man, that hurt.

  Next up was a set of hoops to run through. “You’ll have to get off.”

  She did, and he felt some relief.

  Nevada dropped down to all fours and crawled through the hoops. Her bottom wiggled.

  Sexy.

  Watching her, his knee didn’t feel so bad now.

  Oops. His turn.

  Dustin crawled after her. That felt better than standing had.

  By the time he reached the last hoop, she was half-jogging, half-stumbling across a cargo net that was raised several feet off the ground.

  Nevada’s foot slipped through. “Oh.”

  She landed horizontal on the netting with her leg hanging between squares.

  “You okay?” he asked, ready to help her.

  “Keep going.” She pulled up her leg and then crawled. “I can do this myself.”

  He finished before her, but she wasn’t too far behind him.

  Next came a rope swing over a child-sized plastic pool. No way could he carry her during this obstacle, but she was already getting into position without him.

  Nevada climbed up the small platform, grabbed the rope, and swung across.

  Dustin clapped. “Way to go.”

  His turn.

  His knee felt as if someone had hit him with a sledgehammer, but he managed to cross the pool in one try and land on his good leg.

  Her eyes darkened. “You’re hurt.”

  “I’m fine.” Forcing a smile—something he’d gotten skilled at doing during the long summer months—he bent slightly. “Get on.”

  She did.

  Dustin’s knee rebelled, but he kept going. Nothing was going to stop him from completing this task.

  He carried Nevada across the finish line to the cheers of the spectators waiting. He recognized real estate agent Maddie Cash and Mick Meyer. Her little dog Clementine, who was the best-dressed pooch in Marietta, wasn’t around. The temperature must be too cold for the Yorkie.

  “You can let go of me,” Nevada said.

  Oh, right. Dustin was still holding her. His knee was killing him, but he liked the feel of her legs around him. “Be careful getting off.”

  With both feet on the ground, she bent over as if to catch her breath. Her face was flushed.

  From the obstacle course, but he would like to see her look that way after kissing him.

  She straightened. “We seemed to do that pretty fast.”

  “We did well.”

  Better than he expected, but his knee ached. He had enough experience to know he hadn’t done any additional damage, but the extra weight he’d been carrying and the rapid movements had caused him pain.

  He kept his knee bent and put his full weight on his right leg. “Bet we move up on the leader board.”

  “For sure.” She glanced around. “We need a selfie at the finish line.”

  “That’s right.” Dustin pulled out his phone and held out his arm to get them both on the screen. “Smile.”

  Nevada did.

  “I took a couple just in case.” He checked the photos. “We’re good.”

  Selfie-wise, yes, but his knee hurt. Badly.

  What he wouldn’t give for a bag of ice and ibuprofen.

  “Rest your knee,” she said to his relief. “I’ll get the next envelope.”

  While she walked toward a table that had been set up with more heart-shaped balloons, he leaned against a tree. The cold from the bark seeped through his jacket, but keeping his weight off his knee was helping. He only hoped that would be enough if another physical task came next. />
  She returned with a pink envelope. “So far, we’ve got the fastest time, but over half the teams still need to go.”

  “Great. Let’s hope our time holds up.” Dustin fought the urge to touch his knee. He didn’t want Nevada to know how much he hurt. “What’s our next task?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t opened it.”

  Huh? He gave her a look. “Because…”

  “I thought we should open it together.”

  That was sweet, and something her sister would do, too, but he wasn’t about to say that aloud. “I opened the envelope this morning. It’s your turn.”

  She lifted the flap, pulled out a pink sheet of paper, and read.

  “Now that you’ve made your way around the park, it’s time for another service-oriented task. Grab your lint roller—joking!—and head over to the Whiskers and Paw Pals Animal Rescue to see what you can do for the rest of the day to help the animals looking for forever homes.”

  “We’ll be there a while, but it doesn’t sound too hard,” Dustin said.

  “Hard?”

  The excitement twinkling in her eyes made him do a double take. Nevada’s skin glowed in a way he’d never seen before, and he fought the urge to reach out to her.

  “We’re going to win this one.” Her tone was strong.

  “Now you’re talking.” Dustin had no idea why this task was different for Nevada, but her confidence overflowed. Something he hadn’t seen before. The change appealed to him.

  Big time.

  Now, he had to figure out a way not to let her down with his knee.

  As she reread the letter, he straightened. Raw, hot pain ripped through him. He stiffened so she wouldn’t notice.

  Her smile widened and brightened her face.

  Something inside him kicked. More like a newborn calf than a bull. Weird.

  “Ready to go?” she asked.

  He’d honed his acting skills the past couple of years to hide his bad days. Today would be no different. “All set.”

  “I can’t wait to see what we have to do at the rescue. I’ve been there a few times with my sister. That’s why I think we’ll do well.”

  He hoped the next task required him to be in a horizontal or sitting position, but no matter how bad his knee got, carrying her through the obstacle course had been worth the pain. He liked touching her and couldn’t wait for another chance to put his hands on her again.

  Maybe he’d get his chance at the rescue.

  *

  Two hours later, Nevada sat on the floor of the cat room at the Whiskers and Paw Pals Animal Rescue. A fluffy black cat named Inky lay on her lap and purred, but her gaze strayed to Dustin, who leaned his back against a nearby wall with his legs stretched out in front of him, an ice bag on his left knee, while felines of every shape, size, and color climbed on him.

  Resting was good for him. He’d hurt himself from carrying her. She felt awful because she thought something like this might happen.

  “It doesn’t look like you’re going anywhere for a while,” she said.

  “Nope.” He scratched under a gray cat’s chin. “You, either.”

  “This one has settled in, but that’s okay.” Especially being surrounded by so much purring. She’d read an article that claimed the frequency of purrs could promote healing. Maybe that would help Dustin’s knee. “We’re supposed to work a minimum of four hours.”

  “I’m comfortable. I can stay longer.”

  “For bonus points?”

  He nodded. “And the company.”

  She remembered what Dakota had said about his ranch’s barn cats. “You like cats.”

  “Yes.” His gaze met Nevada’s. “And you’re here, too.”

  Her pulse kicked up a notch. Maybe two.

  Not good. The awareness buzzing through her body from Dustin carrying her had finally stopped. Such a relief when her nerve endings had felt as if they were doing the cha-cha. She didn’t want that nonsense to start up again.

  Best to ignore what he’d said. “Well, this is my kind of task. Much better than cleaning kennels and scooping poop.”

  “Yeah, but they call this cat socializing,” he said. “That’s wrong.”

  “Why?”

  “Cats, not humans, decide when they want to be social.”

  She glanced around. “That appears to be true.”

  Cats roamed free in this room full of cubbies, shelves with beds, and cat trees. One four-level tree was occupied by multiple cats. Some curled up in balls. Others stretched out with half of their bodies hanging off the ledges.

  Nevada sighed. “Hard to believe all the animals had been adopted last Thanksgiving, and now they have this many again three months later.”

  “Unfortunately, there are more animals to take their place.”

  An orange-and-white kitty with the name Zara written on her collar walked up to Nevada. She scratched behind the cat’s ears and was rewarded with purrs. “I can see why my sister likes volunteering here.”

  “Animals are the best.” Dustin removed the ice pack and rubbed his knee. He leaned forward to peer out the room’s glass door. “Carly and Dan Hayworth just passed by. Looks like they are taking dogs for a walk.”

  “Which couple are they?” Nevada asked.

  “Middle-aged. He’s got thinning hair and wears glasses. She’s the brunette with a ponytail. Big smile and dimples.”

  “The one who looks like a pixie?”

  “I never thought of her that way, but yes.”

  “I know who they are.”

  “They’ll be one of the pairs to watch.”

  That surprised her. “They don’t look very young.”

  “No, but age won’t stop them,” Dustin said. “They own a small ranch outside of Marietta. Working the land is better than going to the gym. They’ll give their all during the quest like they do with their ranch.”

  She rubbed Zara while Inky slept. “Sounds like they got the right job here.”

  “This is more my pace today.”

  “How is your knee holding up?” she asked. “Be honest.”

  “A little sore, but that’s normal.” His gaze didn’t dart around, nor did his voice sound any different, so maybe he was being truthful. “I’ve got enough pins and rods in me to set off airport metal detectors. Some movements or activities just hurt.”

  Nevada couldn’t imagine. “I’ve never broken a bone.”

  “You’re fortunate. I’ve lost track of the number I broke. One of the hazards of the rodeo.”

  She heard no regret in his voice. “Was being in the rodeo worth the injuries?”

  Dustin nodded. “I’d still be riding if I could.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”

  “One hundred percent.” Another orange cat pawed at the blue disposable shoe covers he wore. “My dad competed in rodeos, too. It’s been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.”

  “Where do your parents live?”

  “My dad is in Colorado. Still a cowboy and working on a ranch down there. No more rodeos for him though. I’m not sure where my mom is. We lost touch a while ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged, but he didn’t look indifferent.

  Even though her mother was a hundred percent annoying right now, Nevada couldn’t imagine losing touch completely. “It’s your mom’s loss.”

  Dustin’s gaze locked on hers. “That’s what my dad says.”

  “Smart man.”

  “He can be. He can also be mule stubborn.”

  A black cat rubbed against Dustin. He picked up the feline and cuddled the cat like a baby.

  Her heart bumped at the sight of him and the cat. She fought the urge to sigh. Hard to do with a rugged cowboy being so sweet and loving to a small animal.

  “I grew up in ranch bunkhouses wherever my dad could find work,” Dustin continued. “The rodeo was something I watched my dad do. I never understood why he loved the rodeo so much until I competed, and then I
was hooked.”

  He’d told her that school hadn’t been a priority. “What’s the appeal?”

  He tiled his head. “It felt like home. The rodeo was also an exciting, challenging place where no one cared if you drove an old truck or a new one—if your daddy owned his own ranch or worked on one. Your skills brought you respect; nothing else could give you that. And the pretty ladies love rodeo cowboys who wear shiny champion belt buckles.”

  That made her laugh. “That would be appealing.”

  He nodded, but his attention was focused on the black cat.

  “What’s your job like now?” she asked.

  “A lot of riding, caring for livestock, mending fences, and maintenance. The hours are long in the summer with all the guests, and in the fall when we move cattle, but it’s a good job with benefits. Room and board are included. I’ve been there almost three years, and I’m not in any hurry to find another job.”

  “Is your boss giving you time off to do the quest?”

  “I have two bosses, Ty and Nate. Both expect you to work hard, but they’re also generous with time off. They thought the race would be good for me. Guess we’ll find out if it is or not on February fourteenth.”

  “You mean when the winner is announced.”

  “Can’t wait to hear my name called.” He winked and then stared at the black cat in his arms. “I think the little guy fell asleep.”

  Nevada was getting a taste of that cowboy allure he’d mentioned at the coffee shop. She didn’t understand the groupie mentality, but she understood the attraction.

  Falling for a charming cowboy like Dustin Decker would be easy to do.

  She might be tempted, but she couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

  No more rejections and no more broken hearts had been her motto—well, refrain—for years and would continue to be so.

  In New York and here in Marietta.

  Chapter Seven

  Saturday night in Walt Grayson’s kitchen, Nevada wiped her mouth with a napkin and leaned back in her chair. Four empty plates sat on the table. Not too long ago, they’d been filled with generous helpings of lasagna, green beans, and tossed salad. “Dinner was delicious, Walt, thank you.”

  The older man’s smile spread to his eyes. “You must have worked up an appetite doing the Valentine Quest today.”

  “Nevada moved up to seventh place.” Dakota sat across the table and held hands with Bryce. They kept sending love-filled glances at each other.