A Taste of Chocolate Read online

Page 3


  He moved behind her and settled his hands on her shoulders. “Do you think I’m creepy?”

  “I do with the way you keep touching me. You have a way of invading my space.” She turned and glared at him.

  “We are the way we are, Hope. I like to touch. You like to boss.” The corners of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to laugh at her. If he flashed those dimples again, she’d be lost.

  “I do not boss. I…I…”

  A calloused fingertip trailed down the side of her face. “Yes?”

  She batted his hand aside and squared her shoulders. “I do not boss. I encourage. Now, tell me about Freya.” The tone of her voice was merely insisting. She did a mental eye roll. Okay, so it was bossy.

  Declan shook his head twice before aiming those cobalt eyes at her. “Freya helps men who are too busy or too hurt by past relationships to do the dating scene. We tell her what we want in a woman, and she keeps her eyes open for a possible match.”

  His fingertips tucked under her chin and pushed it up so her mouth closed. Goodness, had she been gaping? Most men she knew were running from commitment, not actively seeking a mate. Especially not enough to engage the help of a matchmaker.

  He flashed his dimples again. “Her success rate is phenomenal. Freya helped my brother, Matt, to find his wife. He and Misty bonded quickly, filling the cracks and holes in each other’s soul. To this day, they get along great. They’re expecting their third child.”

  This was beyond her comprehension. “Which are you? Too busy or too hurt?”

  “Both.” They walked on, his hand back at the small of her back and his head inclined as they talked. “I’m usually pretty busy with the shop. Twice as busy during the football season.” He waved at a couple teenage boys.

  Both hollered “Coach Deck” in return.

  “No jokers,” he fired back. When he saw her questioning look over the exchange, he laughed. “Those are two kids from my football team. They all call me Coach Deck, and I tell them there are no jokers in my deck of cards, only players who want to work hard.”

  She couldn’t fault him for that. Hard work was the key to so much. Her own career was very important to her. “So, you’re too busy to find women to date and use a matchmaker service?” This whole concept was so foreign to her.

  “I’m also disheartened with most modern women. Do you know, the last two dates I had, the women were more interested in texting than holding a conversation? All I saw of them was the top of their heads and their thumbs flying across buttons. Pitiful.”

  “You don’t text?”

  “Not every waking moment. Never on a date. A man likes attention.”

  “Women do, too.”

  “Oh, believe me, any woman I’m with will get plenty of attention.” The hand at the small of her back slid to the side of her waist and brought her tight to his side. “Probably more than she can handle.”

  Her nipples reacted to the passion in the tone of Declan’s voice. Just what kind of attention was he talking about?

  Chapter Three

  Hope and Declan walked hand-in-hand across the parking lot in darkness, illuminated only by security lighting. They were both full of popcorn and amped by the thriller they’d seen. “God, all that blood.” Hope shivered.

  “Yeah, it was great, wasn’t it?”

  She laughed. “Men.”

  “Hey, we are the way we are, sweetheart. Men dig violence and action. Women dig chocolate and shoes. Uh-huh, I saw how you salivated over every pair you saw in that shop window.” His demeanor was one of gentle teasing. “I’m surprised you stopped at two pair.”

  She elbowed him in the ribs and he chuckled. Declan was easy to talk to, she’d give him that. She’d learned some important things about him as they slowly made their way through the mall and consumed a bucket of popcorn before the movie started. He’d been married to a woman who tried to pass off another man’s child as his. Because he’d taken his commitment to his wife and unborn son seriously, he resigned his commission with the SEALs. In a matter of days, he’d lost faith in his wife and lost, also, the little boy he still mourned. The look of pain in his eyes when he told her about Cole’s picture still on his nightstand nearly broke her heart. Family was important to him.

  Now that the movie was over, she was surprised he insisted on escorting her to her car.

  “Last week a woman was mugged here in the parking lot. A man should see to the safety of his lady. Indulge me.”

  Hope glanced at him. “I’ll give you that, but you’re not getting a kiss.”

  “Funny, I was about to say the same thing.” His palm slid up and down her spine. “I’m not fast and easy.” He winked and smiled. “Give me your keys. I’ll unlock your door for you.”

  “You really are old school, aren’t you?” She pressed the button on her key fob to unlock her door.

  He tossed his bag of shorts and her two bags of shoes onto the roof of her compact and backed her against her door, his hands at her waist. He inclined his head, his lips at her ear. “Hope Morningstar, you are about the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. I enjoyed today. I hope you did too.”

  She was trembling too much to talk. No man had ever praised her like this. Or had such a potent effect on her. “Y-…yes.”

  “That’s good. Will you see me again?” His lips tickled her ear and his warm breath feathered against her neck, doing delightful things to her insides.

  “O-…okay.” Her response sounded breathy, sexy.

  He groaned and trailed his lips across her face and lips to her other ear, barely making contact and yet branding her with the heat of his light touch. “Are you free tomorrow?” His teeth lightly closed on her earlobe. “I don’t open the shop on Sundays. We could spend all day together.”

  Her hands grasped his biceps to keep from sliding down her car as a puddle at his feet. Frankly she couldn’t recall if she had plans or not. “Ah…”

  His teeth grazed lightly down the column of her throat, his facial hair adding its own brand of torture. “Do you enjoy boating?” Warm lips pressed the base of her neck. “We could go out on the gulf for the day. Bring your swimsuit and something to wear in the evening. We’ll dock in New Orleans and take a buggy ride through the French Quarter to a nice restaurant I know. My cousin’s the chef there.”

  “Sounds…sounds lovely.” She tilted her neck to give him better access. “Do…do you own a boat?”

  “Yeah. A two-forty Sundancer.”

  “Does…does…” His lips were seriously driving her to distraction. “Ah…does your boat have a name?”

  “My Solitude.” He pulled back a few inches. She missed the heat of him and the magic of his lips. “Tomorrow, I’m kissing you, Hope. Just so you know. I’m taking you on Solitude and kissing you senseless.”

  Merciful heavens, what had he been doing to her all this time? Granted he hadn’t kissed her on the mouth, but he’d kissed his way into her soul. She’d never been so beguiled, so seduced, and yet so untouched. He eased her to him again, and her heart pounded a sensual salsa beat against her chest as his lips forged a fiery trail of longing up her neck to her jaw line. And then he bit the edge of her jaw. Gently. Sensually. Possessively. Oh, sweet heaven. She clamped her thighs together to ease the pooling of desire.

  He straightened and reached around her to open the car door. “I’ll see you home.”

  Home? Where do I live? God help her, she couldn’t think. She stood there as her mind and thinking processes slowly kicked into gear. Declan exuded too much power. If he followed her home, she’d be defenseless in keeping him from coming inside. “There’s no need.”

  “Oh, but there is. I need to know you’re safely home and where you live so I can pick you up tomorrow morning. Can you be ready by eight?”

  She was beginning to get excited about Declan’s plans. “Yes.” She tossed her bags into her car and handed him his.

  He trailed fingertips down her cheek. “Bring your sunscreen, my beautiful Hope. No
w, get in, and I’ll see you safely home.”

  She slid into her compact and laid her flowers on the dash. To her surprise, Declan leaned over her and fastened her seatbelt.

  “I’m not helpless. I can do that, you know.”

  Even in the dark, illuminated by the mall’s security lighting, his cobalt eyes shone. “I think you could do anything you set your mind to. You strike me as a very intelligent and strong woman. Good qualities, in my opinion. But quite often a man isn’t the best at words, so he shows he cares by protecting and doing things for those who are dear to him. Okay?”

  He was an imposing yet gentle man. “Okay. It’s just…”

  Declan dropped to his hunkers, with one knee bent and an elbow braced on his other thigh as if whatever she had to say was worth the wait. “Just what?”

  “I’m not used to a man taking care of me in any situation. Men are more inclined to leave me than stick with me.” Geez, don’t I sound pathetic?

  “I wasn’t raised to walk away from the people I care about or from responsibility.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I know it seems as if I’m rushing things with you. If I make you nervous, I’ll slow down. You’re worth the wait. Worth the wooing.”

  She smiled. Who used the word wooing anymore? She cupped his face. “You’re a strange man, Declan Fleming.”

  “Am I scaring you? Coming on too strong?”

  Was he? In some ways, yes. In other ways, being with him felt right, almost as if he were the other half of her soul. Or was he merely salving her wounded ego after being dumped by Barclay? She needed time to think this through.

  “I’d sooner go slowly.” Her hormonal system, on the other hand, was screaming, Are you freaking nuts? Did you forget all the delicious things he did to your neck?

  “Then slower is what you’ll get. I’m a very passionate man, sweetheart, one who feels things deeply. But your wishes carry equal weight with mine, if not more.” He looked down at the macadam for a beat. “Since Freya arranged for our meeting, I guess I feel as if you’re already mine. That’s kind of an immature way of looking at things, isn’t it?” He sighed and raised his gaze to hers. “I’ll go slower. I’ll be a perfect gentleman tomorrow, and we’ll have a great day getting to know each other more.”

  He was so different from any man she’d ever met. Did he mean what he was saying? Time would tell. “Sounds good.”

  “Great.” He stood. “Lock your door and stay here until I bring my Jeep back. I’m parked a few rows over.” He took off, jogging through the parked cars.

  His receding body disappeared in her rearview mirror. She pursed her lips, exhaled a long slow breath, and acknowledged she still trembled with desire. “Whew, mister, you are one magnetic guy.” What kind of man closed a woman’s seatbelt? She glanced at the purple bouquet and snatched it off the dash. Or knew the language of flowers?

  Even though Declan had a commanding air about him, he also treated her as though she were very important. She hadn’t noticed him ogling other women, although many had given him appreciative glances. Oh, he didn’t mind ruffling her feathers. In fact he seemed to enjoy riling her temper. But he was never nasty or impolite. He was just…Declan.

  His honesty just now impressed her, too.

  Headlights approached and blinked on and off. She started her car and backed out of her parking spot. Declan had the top and doors off his Wrangler. Country music blared from his speakers.

  ****

  Declan had already made his decision. She was the one. He’d woo her and win her. And cherish every moment God gave him to be with Hope Morningstar soon-to-be Fleming. She was smart, driven, prickly around the edges, and yet vulnerable underneath. It didn’t hurt any that she had a lush body and expressive brown eyes that seemed to see deep within. Freya had chosen well.

  All he had to do was convince Hope. Given that she’d just broken up with a guy, his objective might not be easy. Plus he didn’t want to be a rebound thing. He wanted her to want him—and him only. Going slow would be the wisest tactic and would yield the strongest and happiest results. A strong sense of purpose and determination set in.

  Several miles later, Hope pulled into an area of townhouses and swung into an assigned parking spot. He eased his Wrangler into guest parking across the street.

  Just as she got out of her compact car, a man got out of an expensive sports car next to hers. He made no attempt to open her door or help her out. “Where the hell have you been?”

  Sensing danger to Hope, Declan hopped out of his vehicle and hurried to her side.

  The slick dude kept up his criticism. “And what the hell have you done to your hair? You never answered me. Where have you been? I’ve been here for nearly twenty minutes.” His angry gaze swept to Declan and then back to her. She raised her eyebrows, as if surprised or annoyed to see this man, but then hid her expression by lifting the roses to her nose before answering the guy in plaid shorts. “On a date. What are you doing here? We’re history. Remember?”

  “A date? That didn’t take long.” The man put his hands on his hips and glared at her. “Who is this muscle-bound guy?”

  Declan extended his hand. “Declan Fleming. And you would be?” He continued taking his measure of the man in plaid. He hadn’t expected this development. Who would Hope choose? Did she still have feelings for this guy?

  The man refused to shake hands. “I’m none of your business, buster.” The twerp glanced back at Hope. “We need to talk.”

  He stood next to her, resisting the urge to snarl and draw her to him in a show of possession. But it was too early for male posturing. Hadn’t he promised he’d go slowly? He’d have to abide by her choice whether he liked it or not. “Want me to walk you to your door?”

  “I’ll walk her to her door.” The twerp grabbed her arm, and she gasped in discomfort.

  In the dark shadows of Pelican Lakes, a dark green haze lowered over Declan’s vision field. His hands clenched and unclenched. Pain shot from his jaw where he had it clenched so hard it was a wonder he didn’t shatter a molar. “Get your hand off Hope before you hurt her.”

  Twerp’s eyes widened for a beat before his gaze slid from Declan to Hope. To his credit, he let go of her arm. “Look, about that text I sent you. I was drunk. I didn’t mean it. We had plans to go to the shore this weekend. Maybe we can still go.”

  “You broke up with me, Barclay. I’ve moved on.”

  “In twenty-four hours?” Twerp’s voice squeaked. “I thought we had something special going on. Baby, I didn’t mean what I wrote in that text. You know I could never stay away from you. I’m crazy about you.”

  “You are? Since when? You made it quite clear I wasn’t good enough for you. Now leave.”

  “Look, can we talk this out?” He pointedly glanced at Declan. “In private?”

  The possibility of Barclay’s wearing her down and schmoozing his way back into her good graces tore at Declan’s soul. Maybe she wasn’t over this guy yet. Didn’t she say she’d dated him for six months? “Hope, I’ll leave if you want to talk things over with him.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the guy’s name. Childish, he knew, but he might be losing Hope before he ever had a chance at earning her love.

  “Okay, that might be best.”

  Declan had taken a few steps before a small hand grabbed his wrist. “Declan?”

  “Yes?” He stilled, hoping, wanting, craving.

  “I enjoyed meeting you and I like you a lot. It’s just…” She glanced over her shoulder. “Barclay and I have some unresolved issues. We do need to talk things out.”

  “Does he make you feel special, Hope? Does he tell you how lucky he is to have you in his life?” He trailed his fingers down her cheek. “Make sure he’s worthy of you.”

  She exhaled an audible sigh. “I never said I was going to give him a second chance. You’re a very special man.”

  “Yes, I am. And special deserves special. That’s why I was thrilled to meet you. About tomorrow…” He g
lanced away for a beat, willing the constriction in his chest to ease up so he could breathe. “Maybe it’s not such a good idea. Not until you know who you want. I don’t share.”

  He couldn’t handle knowing she might return to Barclay’s arms. Sharing had never gone well with Declan. Without his knowledge, he’d shared Courtney while he served in the Navy. Getting over her betrayal had taken a long time. He had to know he was first in a woman’s life. Plus, it was important to know Hope wanted him as much as he did her. He had to be able to trust her.

  He walked back to his Jeep, coiled his hand around the roll bar, and jumped in. As he drove off, he saw Barclay put his arm around Hope and walk her to her door.

  Acid rolled in his stomach. The claws of jealousy ripped across his heart.

  Had he given up too easily?

  Or, like a fool, had he put too much stock in Freya’s matchmaking?

  Chapter Four

  “You’ve been brooding for two weeks.” Gracie leaned over and smelled a huge bouquet of red roses and orange daisies from Hope’s ex-boyfriend. “Is Barclay still trying to get back in your good graces?”

  “Yes. The jerk.” Hope was kissing Olivia over and over, making her laugh. “In the six months we dated, he never once gave me flowers. Declan gives me one small bouquet and now Barclay’s sending these ostentatious arrangements. I feel like he goes into a florist and says, ‘Give me the biggest thing you’ve got.’”

  “Declan must have shaken him up.”

  Hope pulled a toy out of Olivia’s diaper bag and waved it in front of her niece. “Declan is a hard man to follow.” She couldn’t get him out of her mind. He’d even invaded her dreams with his swagger and three pairs of identical shorts.

  “Have you been in contact with him?”

  “No. We exchanged so much personal information during our time at the mall. Our likes and dislikes. Our hopes and dreams. But never our phone numbers.” She blinked back tears. “He breezed in and out of my life so quickly, at times I wonder if he really exists. If it wouldn’t be for a purple rose under my windshield wiper every morning…”