A Taste of Chocolate Read online

  Gracie’s hands stilled on top of Olivia’s diaper bag. “What?”

  “Every morning there’s a purple rose on my windshield.”

  “No note?”

  Hope shook her head and swiped at a falling tear. “I don’t need a note. I know what the purple roses mean.” At her sister’s raised eyebrows, she continued. “Declan said a purple rose means love at first sight.”

  “Oh, wow. How romantic is that? I like him already.” Gracie took Olivia from her to change the baby’s diaper. “If you were to compare Barclay and Declan, how would he rank?”

  “Barclay is all flash and show. Superficial. Funny I never saw it until I met Declan. Barclay’s not happy unless he’s on his way to a party. Declan’s more in tune with my feelings and lifestyle. I mean, what was I thinking to hook up with someone like Barclay to begin with?”

  Gracie tugged Olivia’s flowered shorts over her clean diaper. “I’m glad you dumped Barclay’s sorry butt.”

  “Poor guy couldn’t believe I refused to take him back. He actually thought a few sugary phrases would have me falling at his feet. You should have heard him extol his virtues.” She snorted. “The man’s a legend in his own mind. Declan has more character in his pinky finger than Barclay has in his entire designer-clad body.”

  “What are you going to do about Declan? Are you going to try to find this fantastic guy? To work things out with him?”

  “Yes. I have a plan. I’m going back to Freya’s Coffee Shop. I’ll ask her to arrange another meeting.”

  “Great idea.” Gracie winked and smacked a kiss on Olivia’s slobbery mouth. “Your Auntie Hope is getting smarter. At last.”

  ****

  After Gracie and the baby left, she danced around her living room, making plans to see Declan again. Now she zipped down the freeway, past the exit to the Louisiana Mall and to the next exit to Freya’s Coffee Shop.

  She was careful to make the same turns she had a few weeks earlier. Her heart pounded in her ears. Excitement, no doubt. There was the traffic light ahead of her. She saw the laundromat on the corner. Yes, this was it. Her gaze swept to the coffee shop and she froze.

  Even though the light was green, she braked and stared.

  Freya’s Coffee Shop was gone.

  Gone.

  The yellow stone structure with its red door and gray thatched-style roof was gone. In its place were waist-high weeds. What the heck?

  A horn honked behind her, and she coasted through the intersection, her eyes surveying the area. She pulled into an empty parking spot in front of the laundromat. She was in the same neighborhood, right? She got out of the car and looked up and down the street. Same laundromat. Same dingy windows. Same four-storied red-brick buildings hugging the sidewalk. But no Freya’s Coffee Shop.

  Something leaden dropped in the pit of her stomach. This couldn’t be. Seeing a break in traffic, she ran across the street to the empty lot full of weeds. She took one last sweeping glance around the neighborhood. This was it. This was where the little stone coffee shop had stood. She was sure of it. And yet…

  She looked at the vacant lot. And yet the gray stone walkway, the little garden of flowers, and the charming yellow stone building were gone. She swallowed and willed her mind to accept what her eyes saw. It was as though the place had never been there. As though it had merely been a figment of her imagination. Dear God, have I lost my mind?

  In the middle of the weedy area stood a large Bismarck Palm cleaved in two and charred by lightning. A hot jolt went through her as if she’d been struck by lightning, too.

  No traces of Freya’s place remained.

  She made a slow three-sixty-degree turn on the sidewalk. Then she saw the street signs. She stood on the corner of Declan and Forever Streets. It was a sign. Had to be. Please, God, let it be a sign.

  Checking for traffic, she sprinted across the street. She had some serious research to do.

  Once she returned home, she powered up her laptop. First she went to Baton Rouge’s website. She snapped off a piece of chocolate from her candy bar and enjoyed the sweet melting on her tongue. A slow smile spread. Hadn’t Freya said a man’s kiss should affect her like a taste of chocolate? She wasn’t giving up her search for Declan. She was determined to have a taste of his kisses.

  Finally, after several tries, she was able to access the city’s property records. The property on the southeast corner of Declan and Forever was owned by Redheart Enterprises. A shiver shifted through her. Freya had worn red and claimed it was her favorite color. She broke off another piece of chocolate and popped it in her mouth. This is all too weird. Has to be a coincidence. Right?

  Did Declan have a website for his furniture-making business? She Googled him. Five minutes later she was in her car again, headed for Fleming’s Furniture.

  ****

  She stepped out of the humid heat into the cool of the store. It smelled of wood and eucalyptus from the arrangements here and there on handcrafted wooden tables. Rocking chairs and dining room furniture were artfully arranged amid wooden hope chests and entertainment units. Desks and matching wooden chairs sat against one wall next to bedroom suites and wooden lamps.

  “Can I help you?” The male voice was deep, but not deep enough to be Declan’s. What if he wasn’t here? What if he…

  “I’ve got this, Matt.” A deeper voice shifted over her like dark satin. Cobalt eyes regarded her when she turned around.

  She opened and closed her mouth twice, but nothing tumbled out. As hard and fast as her heart was beating, it was a wonder it didn’t leap from her throat.

  He wasn’t smiling, and her heart sank. “Can I help you find something?”

  “Yes.” She’d come this far. If she made a fool of herself by laying her heart at his feet, so be it. “I know just what I want.”

  “Oh? Tables? Rockers? Dressers?” His head tilted to the side as if waiting for her reply.

  “Actually, I was looking for a man.”

  One of his dark eyebrows rose. “A man?”

  “An alpha male, to be precise.”

  He shrugged as if her remark didn’t affect him, but she could see his eyes soften. “There’s plenty of those around.”

  “Not like the one I want.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched at her remark.

  “The one I want has to be strong.” She took a step toward him. “Someone once told me I’m a bossy woman and only a strong man could handle me.”

  “I see. Don’t you date? Seems to me a beautiful woman like you would have men falling at her feet.”

  She trailed fingertips over a polished tabletop. “I did date a fellow. Then one day I met a man.” She smiled at the memory. “A deck of cards, he was. With no joker.”

  His mustache twitched. “Sounds intense.”

  She took another step toward him. “Very. The problem was he walked out of my life.”

  “Probably a dumbass move on his part.”

  “Not really. Helped me to realize the man I’d been dating would never measure up to one alpha male who left a purple rose on my windshield every morning or bought three pairs of identical khaki shorts.”

  Declan glanced down at the khaki shorts he wore and then lifted his cobalt gaze to hers. “Have you stopped seeing him? This man who could never measure up?”

  “I kicked him to the curb the night I met my alpha. My heart is set on the alpha who digs thriller movies.”

  “He won’t be perfect.” He put his hands on his hips. Large hands they were, capable, strong.

  She took one final step until they were barely an inch apart. “But he might be perfect for me.”

  His hand snaked out and drew her flush against him. “Then I know where you can find just the man you need.”

  She leaned in and kissed his neck. “So do I.”

  Strong arms banded around her. “God, woman, you put me through the worst two weeks of my life.” Hungry lips covered hers, tasting, nipping, sipping.

  While he took posse
ssion of her lips, the world straightened on its axis and then tilted again. Or so it seemed as the full impact of the kiss swirled in a magical cyclone within her heart. He tasted of something sweet and dark. Her toes curled and a sigh escaped her soul. She’d found home.

  When Declan finally ended the kiss, she smiled and uncurled her toes. “Freya was right. You taste like chocolate.”

  “Chocolate?”

  “Yes, a chocolate kiss.” She cupped her hand around the back of his neck and drew him to her. “A warning, though, if you think you’re strong enough to handle it. One taste of chocolate is never enough.”

  He chuckled and lowered his head so his lips moved against hers when he talked. “Bring it on, sweetheart.”

  A word about the author...

  Award-winning author Vonnie Davis fills her retirement days as a fairy godmother, giving happy endings to her characters. She writes contemporary, historical, paranormal and romantic suspense.

  She attended Penn State University and Wilson College, majoring in both Business Administration and English. Like most writers, she started penning stories in her pre-teen years with the dream of becoming an author. Then life got in the way—marriage, wonderful children, job, college as a grandma and, after twelve years of being alone, a new love.

  She is now retired, having traded the tailored clothes of a technical writer for the feathered boa of a romance author. She lives in Lynchburg, Virginia, with her husband Calvin, a man she met online. Ah, now there’s a romantic story.

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