A Thankful Heart (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 2)
Page 19
Her eyes gleamed. “Thank you.”
“I also thought about what you said to me about giving thanks. I have something to add to my list of what I’m thankful for.”
“What’s that?”
“Your heart.” He cupped her face with his hand. “That your heart can love a fool like me.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Bryce.” She stared up at him with affection in her eyes. “Until you arrived in Marietta, I thought all I needed were chocolate and animals. I’m so thankful you showed me I needed more. You. I love you.”
“I love you.” And Bryce always would. He kissed her gently on the lips. A kiss to tell her what to look forward to—a life together, a family, and helping to make each other’s dreams come true. “Happy Thanksgiving, Dakota.”
The End
You’ll love the next book in the…
Love at the Chocolate Shop series
Book 1: Melt My Heart, Cowboy by C.J. Carmichael
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Book 2: A Thankful Heart by Melissa McClone
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Book 3: Montana Secret Santa by Debra Salonen
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Book 4: The Chocolate Cure by Roxanne Snopek
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Book 5: The Valentine Quest by Melissa McClone
Coming soon
The rest of the Love at the Chocolate Shop is coming soon!
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Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from book 3 in the Love at the Chocolate Shop Series
Montana Secret Santa
Debra Salonen
Copyright © 2016
Stilettos and snow? Bad idea.
Krista Martin had lived and worked in Marietta, Montana, long enough to grasp the importance of proper winter footwear. But today she needed the height and authority that came with heels. One didn’t tell one’s best friend and business partner—the person responsible for Krista moving halfway across the country to help create Blue Sky Promotions—that said partner and friend’s work lately had become substandard, uninspired and phoned-in without adequate body armor and a large travel mug filled with Sage Carrigan’s cocoa.
Krista feared Copper Mountain Chocolates—her favorite downtown Marietta haunt—was the reason she could barely snap the waistband of her black Armani pencil skirt. A bad-mommy-forgot-your-birthday gift from Krista’s producer/screenwriter mother a couple of years back. In the year and a half that Krista had lived in Montana, not a single member of her family—from either coast—had made the effort to visit her. Normally, Krista was too busy to care. But once the holiday season set in, all those old hurts and grievances seemed to rise to the surface of her consciousness.
She’d been banking on a big uptick in business to keep her too distracted to feel sorry for herself, but between Sage Carrigan’s decision to table any talk of expansion until after the first of the year and Amanda Heller-Montgomery’s general ennui when it came to their ad agency, Krista was close to reaching level ten on her frustration meter.
She paused a foot from the doorway to take a gulp of fortitude before leaving the warm, fragrant safety of the chocolatier. Sweet, rich, and chocolaty warmth slid like hot lava down her gullet to her mostly empty tummy. She’d been too busy practicing her speech to eat breakfast.
She still hadn’t decided which approach to take.
Direct and businesslike?
Amanda. We have a problem. Blue Sky is underperforming and the obvious correlation to this decline can be tracked back to your marriage to Tucker Montgomery. I’m concerned that marriage has completely gutted your work ethic.
Or something a bit more diplomatic?
Amanda. Girlfriend. We need to talk. You’re more than my business partner and best friend. But I’m worried that we’re not going to meet our year-end goals if you don’t return to your pre-marriage self.
Krista hesitated before reaching for the door. Blaming marriage might backfire. Amanda was the happiest Krista had ever seen her. But, the harsh reality couldn’t be avoided. The Amanda who invited Krista to join her on the new frontier where—to paraphrase Amanda, “…all you need is drive, brains, and decent Wi-Fi to blow the glass ceiling of NYC advertising out of the market”—was MIA.
And, while Krista wasn’t shy about sharing her goals and ambitions, she’d let the situation at Blue Sky slide for the past nine months, hoping Amanda would return to her normal highly focused and efficient self after the first blush of marital bliss dissipated.
They’d made a pretty fantastic team to start out. Amanda brought her local contacts to the table. Krista’s family had enough connections on both coasts to fill any gaps. And Blue Sky’s highly acclaimed promotion of last year’s Big Sky Mavericks’ New Year’s Eve Masked Ball had resulted in a dozen or more excellent paying leads.
Their first quarter rocked. Then, Amanda took off a week at the end of February to join her soon-to-be-fiancé at Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Tucker proposed, Amanda said yes, and the snowball rolled.
Thanks to Tucker’s connection to the Zabrinski family—all successful entrepreneurs and pilots, with several airplanes at their disposal—Krista and nine other Marietta friends flew to Louisiana to celebrate the Heller-Montgomery nuptials.
While Krista could appreciate the romance of the near-elopement, she put no trust in grand gestures. She’d seen plenty growing up in a family of actors. But promised vows were as empty as an actor’s lines. Love and family soon became relegated to the backburner of life so each partner could pour his or her heart and soul into their respective careers.
She truly hoped that whole happily-ever-after thing worked out better for Amanda and Tucker. They certainly seemed happy, committed, and in love. But, for the moment, at least, Krista needed to stay focused on the personal fulfillment side of life.
Crunch time. I can do this.
She set her travel mug on a convenient display table, laden with chocolate treasures, while she tugged on her faux rabbit fur-lined leather gloves and re-tucked the soft alpaca scarf into the “V” of her white tuxedo-style shirt. Anticipating the single digit wind chill she’d already encountered when she scraped a thick layer of ice from the windshield of her Subaru, she pulled up the collar of her knee-length, cranberry wool coat. Even with expensive hose, she expected her legs to be numb by the time she reached the Blue Sky offices about a block and a half away.
She grabbed her mug and turned to leave just as an older woman in a bulky, masculine-looking Carhartt jacket, grubby jeans, and cowboy boots blew in on a gust of arctic air. The woman looked familiar but Krista avoided making eye contact so she wouldn’t get pulled into a neighborly exchange of nonpersonal hi-how-are-yous.
Grabbing the edge of the door with her free hand, she hurried outside. The cold hit like a full-on blast from a high power fire hose. Her stride required mincing steps to keep her thighs together. The last thing she needed was frostbite on her privates. Bad enough a former romantic interest had accused her of “freezing him out of the pleasure zone”.
Who says things like that? Pleasure zone. Bah—
The humbug required to finish the thought disappeared the instant a knee-high dog shot, headfirst, between her legs. A nearly invisible tether attached to a harness hidden beneath the animal’s stylish red and black plaid fleece overcoat snapped taut, sending Krista’s skirt to mid-thigh. She squeezed her legs tight in self-defense.
Wobbling like a tightrope walker, she’d nearly recovered her balance when a shrill zipping sound of the dog’s coated wire tether being recalled—too late, in her opinion—yanked the animal—now square to Krista’s body—sideways against her shins.
Things went downhill pretty fast after that. Although every action and reaction felt like slow motion from Krista’s perspective, the entire debacle probably took seconds.
“Wait. No. Oh, crap.” The last came out on a protracted cry as her skinny pumps shifted sideways on a patch of black ice.
Her wonderful, badly needed insulated cup of
Sage’s divine cocoa went flying. Her small, smart patent leather shoulder bag shot upward to conk Krista on the chin, which caused her to windmill backwards straight into the open arms of the person reeling in their stupid dog.
Since Krista closed her eyes, she couldn’t say for sure what happened next, but it involved ear-piercing barks, grunts and groans, and several colorful curses, which might have come from her. Luckily, the person in meager control of the dog’s leash turned out to be a man, large enough and strong enough to catch her mid-fall. She recognized his gender by his deep voice and the rock solid arm that locked around her chest as they went down. The thick padding of his winter jacket—along with a nicely built torso—cushioned her impact when they hit the sidewalk. The angle of their repose told her they’d taken another casualty with them.
Find out more from Montana Secret Santa…
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More by USA Today Bestselling author Melissa McClone
The Bar V5 Ranch series
Fall in love at the Bar V5 Dude Ranch in Montana
Book 1: Home For Christmas
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Book 2: Mistletoe Magic
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Book 3: Kiss Me, Cowboy
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Book 4: Mistletoe Wedding
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Book 5: A Christmas Homecoming
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About the Author
USA Today Bestselling author Melissa McClone has published over twenty-five novels with Harlequin and been nominated for Romance Writers of America’s RITA award. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, three school-aged children, two spoiled Norwegian Elkhounds and cats who think they rule the house. For more on Melissa’s books, visit her website: www.melissamcclone.com
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