Brad raised his hands. “Hey, you’re making me blush.”
“You really must accept some kind of payment.” She swallowed a lump in her throat, knowing she had nothing really to offer. Except chocolates.
“Think of it as a work-study program for me,” he said with a grin. “I’ll put the experience on my résumé.”
“Still, how can I ever repay you?”
Brad surveyed her for a moment, then put his hands on her shoulders. The warmth of his hands came through the thin fabric of her shirt. She couldn’t decipher the expression in his eyes, and was only aware of an odd breathlessness, of an unnamed expectation surging through her.
The clock in the back ticked out industrial minutes, and beyond the shop windows, the sounds of traffic permeated the otherwise silent room. Brad’s hand strayed to her hair, smoothing an errant strand from her face. Delphine’s heart leaped into her throat. She stood motionless, watching him, wondering what he’d do next.
What if…what if he kisses me again?
What if he doesn’t?
His expression subtly faded. He lowered his gaze, dropping his hands.
Anticipation melted away under the weight of disappointment.
Delphine tried to keep the regret from showing. She took a deep breath. “Um, I’m anxious to start my first batch of candy in the new kitchen. Want to watch?”
“Are you going to make chocolate candies?” he asked, his blue eyes gleaming again.
She suppressed a smile. Never had she known such a hopeless chocoholic. Nodding, she headed into the kitchen and looped an apron around her waist.
“Can I help?” he asked, following close behind.
She turned around. “You mean do more than be my taste-tester?” At his guilty expression, she smiled her assent. “First, we wash our hands.”
They stood at the sink side by side, scrubbing their hands, creating mountains of bubbles. Brad insisted on doing everything the silly way, and managed to get soap on his face as well as his hands. She went to the stock room and collected a small supply of ingredients and put them next to the marble slab, which was set on one end of the wood prep table. Brad plopped onto one of the nearby stools.
His enthusiasm was infectious, but Delphine was at a slight loss as to understand it. She made chocolates because she had a knack for cooking, and while she could discern good flavor in the product, she was more interested in excellence of quality than just eating it for fun.
“First,” she said in an instructor’s tone, “I have to check the temperature of the air conditioner to make sure it isn’t too warm, or else the chocolate won’t set up.”
He jumped up from the stool and headed for the thermostat. “I’ll do it. What temp do you need?”
“Below seventy degrees.”
“We got sixty-nine.” He came back to the stool, his gaze fastened on the eleven-pound slab of chocolate on the worktable.
She nodded her approval. “D’accord. Now for dipping chocolate, we need what’s known as courveture, and I’m using Callebaut, one of the best brands.”
She broke off a chunk at the segment mark and put it in a double boiler on the stove. Brad slid from the stool and came up to the stove to watch more closely. She smiled at him. He didn’t notice because his gaze remained fastened on the chocolate.
Once it began a slow melt at a low temperature, Delphine pulled a professional grade electric skillet from one of the shelves and set it on the worktable. Next, she put out trays lined with wax paper, along with a tray she’d prepared earlier filled with soft caramel centers to dip into the chocolate.
“It’s really melting,” Brad said, his voice tinged with awe. “Is it ready to eat?”
“Nope. We’re tempering it first. It has to get to about eighty-five degrees before we can start dipping.”
When the thermometer read the correct temperature, Delphine put her hand in the double boiler and scooped some chocolate into the skillet.
“What are you doing?” Brad asked, his eyes wide as if she’d just done something shocking.
“Checking for correct consistency and temperature.”
“Isn’t it too hot to touch?”
She shook her head.
“Okay, I need to do that, too,” Brad said, nudging her gently aside.
Delphine laughed. “All right, but no licking your fingers until after we’re done.”
As if in a trance, he reverently lowered his hand into the chocolate and scooped some into the skillet. “Wow.”
“Move your hand in an S motion to cool it and to keep it from setting up. She guided his hand through the chocolate as it cooled a little.
He glanced up at her and arched a brow. “I knew it was fun to eat, but had no idea how much fun it was to make.”
Delphine lowered her gaze to hide the effect his words had on her. “Now,” she said in a brisk manner, “touch your finger to this waxed paper to leave a little blob of chocolate. If it sets up within three minutes, we know it’s ready for dipping.”
Brad complied, but after making a dot on the paper with a chocolaty finger, he stuck his finger in his mouth.
“Hey! I said no tasting yet.”
Brad raised a brow. “Will this batch be for public consumption?”
“Well, no, but—”
“But nothing.” He grinned, unrepentant. “This stuff’s meant for eating and I’m just obliging it.”
She watched him lick his fingers and shook her head. “I can see you’ll be a threat to my profit margin.”
“Guilty.”
Delphine tried to frown. “When you’re ready to continue, we’ll be moving to the next step—dipping.”
Brad peeled the wax paper away from the test dot and pronounced it also ready to eat.
She blew out a noisy sigh. “Pay attention!”
Brad licked his lips and looked at her expectantly.
“Okay, now we take the caramel centers and dip them like this.” Delphine suited action to words and expertly placed her first candy onto the wax paper lined tray.
“It’s poetry in motion,” Brad said, his expression mesmerized.
She stepped to the side. “Your turn.”
Brad responded with alacrity. He popped a bare caramel in his mouth and held up his hand. “Just a little quality check. The best chocolate in the world couldn’t mask an inferior caramel.”
Delphine rolled her eyes. “I’d hardly buy high quality chocolate while using other inferior ingredients.”
He returned her look with a limpid one and plunked a caramel into the chocolate. When he tried to pick it up, it slid from his fingers. He scrunched his brows in concentration, scrabbling in the liquid chocolate before finally holding up the candy, while melted chocolate ran in little brown rivers down his arm.
“Set it on the—” Before she could finish the sentence, Brad had eaten the dipped candy.
“I better try that again,” he said with smudged lips. His next attempt lacked improvement, but at least he managed to set the candy onto the paper.
Delphine wedged herself between him and the table. “I think I’ll take over from here.” She moved her hand in the chocolate, alternately dipping all the caramels, and tapping them slightly to make a little decorative squiggle on top. She added more chocolate from the pan, and continued dipping until the entire batch was complete.
“You make that look easy,” Brad said, greedily gazing at the full tray.
Delphine sent him a rueful smile. “You have a dab of chocolate at the corner of your mouth.” Remembering their time at the café, she lifted an edge of her apron to wipe it away, but he took a step backward.
“Don’t waste it!” His tongue darted out and took care of it.
Delphine cleared her throat. “I have to remind myself that it’s people like you who will help me succeed.”
He ate another caramel and sent her a lazy smile. “Don’t you forget it.”
She cleaned up the workspace, amazed that she could enjoy a mundane task s
o much when Brad was with her. What would she do when he moved on to other things? To other people?
An image of him flirting with some other female darkened her mind. She frowned, wishing away the thought.
He stepped in front of her and tipped up her chin. “Hey, why are you so serious all of a sudden?”
She shrugged, unable to suppress the notion that she was probably just a temporary diversion in his life. But wasn’t that what I wanted? “Just tired, I guess. And hungry.”
“With all this chocolate around? Girl, you don’t know how to enjoy what’s right under your nose.”
Delphine wondered if there was a double meaning in that. She eased her lips into a smile.
“I was thinking of something slightly more nutritious.”
Seven
After having a fruit smoothie at a local shop, Delphine strolled with Brad through the downtown shopping area of Glendale. A warm evening breeze blew along the sidewalks, causing her to feel a little wistful.
She realized her restlessness hadn’t been solved by the snack. Maybe she was more than hungry. She angled a glance up at Brad, afraid at the direction of her thoughts. He caught the movement and sent her an engaging smile.
Maybe I want more than friendship with this man.
The realization that she was falling for Brad Larsen made her heart somersault within her. How does he really feel about me? Will he ever try to kiss me again?
Maybe he remembers that slap. Heat flooded her cheeks. Brad was hardly the type of guy who needed to put much effort into pursuing females, especially those who made it clear what they thought of his over-warm attentions. What’s the point in getting attached? The end result is always the same.
Suppressing a sigh, she peered up at his tall form, seeing his dim reflection in the glass of shops they passed. He stopped.
“Delphine. We forgot to do something.”
“What?” she asked, alarmed, wondering if she’d neglected to lock up her shop before leaving.
“Research our competition.”
“Huh?” Her eyes followed his gaze until she realized they stood in front of a candy shop.
Brad tugged on her hand. “Let’s go inside and check this place out.”
Any thoughts of research flew out of her head at his touch. Clutching his hand, she entered the store with him.
The candy shop had been painted in a cotton candy pink color with pink and white square tiles on the floor. Chrome-trimmed seats and tables ran along one edge of the shop. A bright pink neon sign announced an assortment of confections ranging from chocolate to milkshakes to candy.
Brad purchased a few of the chocolates and led Delphine out the door. From there, he found a phone booth and made a list of all the candy stores and gift shops in the area. They spent the next two hours hitting every store in the district, eventually making it back to Delphine’s shop at nine in the evening.
Inside her shop, Brad dumped a pile of sacks and boxes on the wooden prep table back in the kitchen. Delphine drew up a couple of stools so they could sit. A small pool of light shone down on the table, while the rest of the shop remained in shadows. They perched atop the stools, close enough that their knees touched. Brad lifted the lid on the box and looked hungrily at the contents.
Delphine laughed at his expression. “I don’t think your research is entirely altruistic. Admit it, you just want more chocolate.”
“Admitted,” he said before popping a chocolate-covered turtle into his mouth.
She reached into the box and drew out another turtle. She gave it a delicate sniff before taking a small bite. After swallowing, she frowned. “Too much sugar. It’s used to mask the inferior quality of the chocolate.”
Brad looked at her in surprise. “It tasted fine to me!”
“You’ll learn.”
He grinned at her, his blue eyes alight. “Teach me.”
Delphine quirked her mouth into a smile. “It’s like anything else. Learn about the real thing first and en effet, you will easily be able to discern between what’s genuine and what’s counterfeit.”
“Counterfeit? There’s no such thing as counterfeit chocolate.” Brad groaned, slapping his hand to his head. “Oh no, don’t tell me. You’re a chocolate snob!”
“I only want to make and sell the highest quality products,” she said primly.
His eyes glinted. “Delphine, do you even like chocolate?”
She considered how to answer. It wasn’t that she disliked it exactly…
“You hesitated!” Brad said, aghast. “How can you open a candy shop and not be a chocoholic?”
“Because I’m depending on chocoholics like you to keep me in business!”
He leaned forward, resting his arms against the table. “Then let’s test this amazing snobbery, er, skill you have. Close your eyes.”
Opening the most expensive box he’d purchased, Brad chose a chocolate based on the description from the leaflet inside. He glanced at Delphine. Her eyes were indeed closed. He paused to admire the way the soft light shone on her hair.
The last few weeks had been difficult for him. His plan to treat her with the utmost courtesy had achieved a certain goal—Delphine had become more relaxed in his company.
But he wanted more. He wanted to see her dark eyes light up with something other than friendship when she looked at him.
“Okay,” he said, putting the candy in her hand. “Taste this chocolate and see if you can identify it without looking.”
She obediently took a bite from the candy, and keeping her eyes closed, smiled. “Easy. This is a high quality dark chocolate truffle, probably Godiva.”
“Lucky guess,” Brad said, his frown at war with a smile. “Let’s try that again.”
He chose a piece of candy from a different bag and waited for her judgment. Her eyes flew open after taking a bite. “Really, Brad. This is one of those chocolate football thingies. They hardly count.”
“Snob.” Brad promptly unwrapped and ate three at once. “Mmmm,” he garbled around his mouthful.
Delphine wrinkled her nose. “Yuck!” She leaned forward. “You cannot tell me that the chocolate you just ate can compare to what we made this afternoon.”
She reached behind her and picked up one of the caramels they’d made together. “Now, think about the how the flavor of what you just ate compares with this.”
Brad took the glossy brown candy from her hand and popped it into his mouth. He made a show of chewing it to annoy her, but had to admit there was a big difference.
The chocolate melted in a slow velvety way, unlike the almost wax-like crunch of the football candy. Delphine’s candy was aromatic, assaulting his senses with new pleasure when the coating melted away and he tasted the caramel.
As soon as he swallowed it, he plotted how he could snatch another one without her noticing.
“Well?”
He saw the confident, knowing gleam in her dark eyes. He put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, you win. No contest.” He picked up the remaining football chocolate and sneered at it. “Such dismal candy shall never pass my discerning lips again!”
Delphine giggled. “See what you’ve been putting up with, when the real thing’s been right in front of you all this time?”
Brad’s brows notched upward. Is she talking about chocolate or herself? A rush of adrenaline surged through him. Maybe I should test this theory. His heart hammered. Do I dare? Is it worth the risk of getting smacked again? She stared at him, her cheeks flushed with color. Oh, yeah.
He took a deep breath. “Now, Miss D’Arleux, I admit you’re a chocolate professional, but it’s time to find out what I know, to see if I’ve learned anything from you yet.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Pick any chocolate and eat it. Then I’ll see if I can guess what it is.”
Delphine blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Trust me. I’ll close my eyes while you pick one. Tell me when you’re ready
.”
Shrugging, she reached toward the pile of boxes. Brad closed his eyes, struggling to keep his expression bland while his heart beat out a frenzied rhythm.
“Okay, I ate one,” she said. “Now just how do you plan to tell what I had?”
“Like this.” He leaned over and gently pressed his lips against hers.
Delphine went very still. He raised his lips an inch from hers. “My guess,” he whispered, “is milk chocolate and coconut.”
He rested his forehead against hers, listening to the sound of her rapid breathing, wondering if she would punch his lights out, or kiss him back.
After what seemed like an eternity, she reached up and touched the side of his face. Brad held his breath. She tipped her face up and brushed her lips against his, then put her arms around his neck and pulled him off his stool. Brad held her tight as her lips clung to his, swept away on a tide of sweetness he never knew existed.
When Delphine finally ended the kiss, he felt shaken and dazed, but with a keen understanding of ‘the real thing’.
“Well,” he croaked. “That’s better than chocolate any day.”
Heart racing, Delphine clutched the front of Brad’s shirt, unable to believe she’d responded to him so eagerly. A tide of heat rose up her neck.
What must he think of me?
He looked down at her and wiggled his brows. “Shall we try that experiment again? I need more practice.”
“You’re incorrigible,” she said with a lightness she didn’t feel, lowering her hands to her sides.
She feared this was some kind of game for him. But now that her world had been upended by that wondrous kiss, how could she resume their easy-going friendship? “Um, Brad—”
A knock came at the front door of the shop. He squeezed her hand and went to see who it was. Delphine felt bereft at his absence. Needing a few seconds to gather her fragmented emotions, she straightened her hair and then slowly made her way to the front of the store—in time to see Brad’s father entering.
“I saw the lights on and thought you’d be here.”
How Sweet It Is Page 7
