Czytaj książkę: «Texas Magic»

Chapter One

Dark chocolate for a white wedding.

The juxtaposition brought a smile to Maya LeBlanc’s lips as she stood at the worktable in the kitchen of Maya’s Chocolaterie, threading the last sterling-silver heart charm onto the final strand of white satin ribbon. Savoring the scent of roasted cocoa beans, cinnamon and dried rose petals that lingered in the air, she tied a bow on the last box of wedding favors and placed it on the baker’s rack with the other 349 she had already put together. Each small package contained a quartet of handmade truffles—an exclusive recipe she had concocted specifically for the Coopersmith/Harris wedding, which would take place at the end of the week across the Atlantic Ocean in Celebration, Texas.

Nothing that came out of Maya’s kitchen was mass-produced. In fact, all of the chocolates she made were as exclusive as the occasions and clients for whom she designed them.

However, she wasn’t accustomed to producing her sweets on this large of a scale: fourteen hundred truffles in three days. The wedding chocolate—in addition to what she needed to sustain her shop’s daily business—was a tall order that took more manpower than Maya, in her tiny St. Michel shop, possessed. She had put in a lot of extra hours this week after she had turned over the Shop Closed sign. Now that she was finished and staring at the mountainous pile of white boxes, she wasn’t sure she would ever take on another task of such epic proportions. But she blinked away the thought, feeling like a first-time marathon runner who had just crossed the finish line and was already contemplating her next race.

Maya had done this order as a favor for her friend Caroline Coopersmith, the sister of the bride. Despite the fact that Maya had never met Caroline’s sister, Claudia, she couldn’t say no after hearing the desperation in Caroline’s voice. Apparently, Claudia was more aptly described as Bridezilla on the rampage than blushing bride to be. The Texas-based chocolatier originally procured to provide the truffles for Claudia’s wedding had gone out of business, disappearing lock, stock and bridal favors into the night with Claudia’s deposit—one week before the wedding.

While individual boxes of truffles for the guests would not make or break the wedding, Bridezilla was breathing fire and Caroline had called Maya, desperate for her to work her magic: produce an exclusive confection for the occasion and ship it to the States in a matter of days.

“It wouldn’t hurt if you sent a special box made with ingredients that will calm my sister’s nerves,” Caroline had joked.

Hmmm...not a bad idea. Some chamomile and lavender in white chocolate. That was a good start, and Maya had been stewing on it as she finished up the large order.

She glanced at her watch. It was nearly two in the morning, which made it just before eight o’clock in the evening in Texas. She picked up the telephone and dialed Caroline’s cell phone number.

Caroline picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Bonjour! It’s Maya.” She settled into a chair, trying not to let the fatigue that suddenly weighed on her like an anchor show in her voice. “Fait accompli. Tell your sister to rest assured that the order will arrive in plenty of time for the wedding. I will package the truffles in foam coolers and ship them to you tomorrow. Tout de suite!”

“You’re wonderful! And you must be a mind reader, because not ten minutes ago Claudia called asking for an update on the chocolate. I told her I’d call you tomorrow since it was late in St. Michel. I hope this job hasn’t cost you too much sleep.”

“Sleep is overrated. How are your sister’s wedding plans progressing?”

As Caroline sighed, Maya sensed that her friend was even more exhausted than she was.

“At the risk of sounding like a terrible sister, I will be so glad when Saturday arrives and the wedding is over. The world will stop revolving around Claudia and we will all be able to reclaim our lives. I’m happy for her, really, I am. But just when I think she can’t possibly drain one more ounce out of the bridal party, she manages to draw blood.”

Caroline sighed again. “I’m sorry, Maya. I must sound like a miserable person.”

A note in Caroline’s Texan drawl made Maya think that perhaps the weariness was the product of more than physical exhaustion. Hmmm...a box of something special for Caroline was in order, too.

“No, you don’t sound like a misérable person. You’re a fabulous sister for doing all that you have for her. Do you have a date for the wedding?” Ever the matchmaker, Maya couldn’t resist asking.

“Are you kidding? Between work at the accounting firm, baking for the catering company and my maid-of-honor duties, I barely have time to sleep. There are no men on my horizon.”

Ahh...that explained it. Being maid of honor in a wedding when you had no love of your own was like being trapped inside a candy store and not being allowed to taste the sweets. Seeing the possibilities and imagining what it might be like, but that’s where it ended.

Alas, Caroline deserved more.

An idea swelled up inside of Maya, like a perfect chocolate soufflé rising in the oven.

Yes, it’s Caroline’s turn for love.

And Maya knew just the thing to set the wheels of love in motion.

* * *

Caroline Coopersmith helped herself to a large piece of wedding cake and carried it to the empty bridal-party table. All of the other attendants were on the dance floor. Here Caroline was, getting cozy with a plate of fat and sugar. She decided she might as well have another glass of champagne, too.

She waved over a waiter, grabbed a flute and then slipped her feet out of the four-inch stilettos that were so painful they should have carried a warning label. For the first time that evening—actually, for the first time in months—Caroline was able to inhale a full, deep breath and relax.

Her sister, Claudia, was married.

At long last.

The relief Caroline felt did not solely have to do with the fact that her aching feet had been mercifully freed from bondage. It was more to do with everyone making it through the wedding unscathed. No one had killed Claudia. Nor did the more plausible threat of Claudia killing or maiming her come to fruition.

Now, Caroline was free. And she had cake and champagne....

What more could a girl want?

Caroline’s gaze searched the room for best man Drew Montgomery. Before she could find him, something else caught her eye.

Claudia waved from the center of the crowded dance floor, motioning her to join in a group dance to the Black Eyed Peas’s “I Gotta Feeling.” Caroline’s gaze swept the dance floor, searching. When she still did not see Drew among the revelers, any motivation she might have mustered to drag herself into the fray evaporated. Living up to his job description, Drew certainly was the best man here. And probably the only thing more tempting than the wedding cake.

She and Drew had met for the first time yesterday at the rehearsal. Since he was best man to her maid of honor, the two had been paired up at the rehearsal dinner last night. It had been nice meeting him and spending time with him.

Caroline smiled but shook her head, raising her glass to her sister in a “go ahead without me” toast.

Claudia flashed a quick okay sign and turned back to her groom, Kyle, who pulled her close, folding her into their own private slow dance to the fast song. They kissed and looked so in love, as if they had not a care in the world.

And they didn’t, really. Caroline sighed and ate a bite of cake as she watched them. At least right now they didn’t have a care. The wedding had gone off without a hitch. All that was left was the bridal bouquet toss and the send-off. After that her sister and new brother-in-law would ride off into their future, and Caroline would be free to retreat to her hotel suite and enjoy a long, hot soak in the pond-sized marble Jacuzzi tub.

In the meantime, she had carrot cake with cognac-spiked hazelnut marzipan crème filling. She closed her lips around another generous bite and closed her eyes, savoring the delectable combination of flavors.

Hazelnuts...cloves...nutmeg...

If she had made this wedding cake herself, she would’ve added a dash more cinnamon...and maybe a hint of orange zest to the filling—a secret something to lend a certain je ne sais quois....

Baking was her hobby, the happy place she went to when she needed to ground herself. Given the stressful nature of her job with Coopersmith & Bales, the accounting firm her great-grandfather had founded, she found herself retreating more and more into the sweet goodness of her confectionary sanctuary. Because baking was the only thing that kept her sane. It was a wonder she did not weigh five hundred pounds.

Still, even without the flavors Caroline would add, the cake was heavenly. She opened her eyes to fork up another bite. On the dance floor, Kyle dipped Claudia and the guests cheered. The surprised delight on her sister’s face made Caroline smile, too. Claudia looked so beautiful...and in love.

Yes, all was right with the world. How could it not be when there was a living, breathing example of true love right in front of her?

Watching the love between her sister and brother-in-law renewed her faith in true love, even though her own romantic future did not seem very bright. She had had plenty of boyfriends over the years but never a serious relationship.

Why? Because Caroline was so very guarded. It was one of her flaws, and she readily admitted it. Still, it also happened that most of the men she had dated—the ones who might have had the potential to work out—always seemed to be unavailable, preoccupied or headed somewhere: off to college or internships or jobs. Or some of them just weren’t in a good place for a relationship. There always seemed to be an obstacle that stood in the way. Real or imagined, it was Caroline’s justification for keeping up the walls of self-protection.

This weekend, though, she thought she had felt a spark of mutual attraction between Drew and herself, but he’d been scarce since the wedding party and family dances had ended.

That was fine. Disappointing, but, really, what had she expected?

Well, at one point, she had actually admitted to herself that if she were the type of woman who had one-night stands, Drew Montgomery was exactly the kind of guy she would choose. He was a classic—tall, dark and handsome, with broad shoulders and a hint of irreverent bad boy that added to his allure.

It was crazy that she had even considered something so out of character. But she was a grown woman—thirty-three years old, for God’s sake. She had no prospects in sight and no time in her busy schedule to think about going out on a manhunt. And again, was it so wrong to want a taste of romance for herself...no matter how fleeting?

With all eyes on Claudia and Kyle this weekend, and delicious Drew at her side...well, it had been a tempting daydream.

Thank God, he was nowhere to be found in the dangerous hour when their wedding duties were done and the champagne was flowing like an endless river.

Wistful, Caroline turned her attention back to her plate, scraping up the last traces of icing. It was so good. She just might treat herself to seconds. There was nothing to feel guilty about, as long as she didn’t consider the calories in the small box of Maya’s truffles she had already consumed before the wedding had even started.

Along with the shipment of chocolate party favors, Maya had sent special boxes of truffles to Caroline and Claudia. She had called the treats “wedding survival kits.” She had claimed that Claudia’s chocolates contained calming herbs to help rid her of bridal jitters; observing how calm and carefree her sister seemed right now, they’d obviously worked their magic.

Caroline’s box, Maya had said, was a reward for seeing Claudia through the wedding stress. Maya’s note to Caroline had read: Eat these on the day of the wedding, and remember, my sweet, a gracious maid of honor always gets her reward. L’amour!

L’amour? Wouldn’t that be a nice reward?

Again, her gaze scanned the dance floor for Drew. Coming up empty, she found herself back at square one, contemplating the crumbs on her clean cake plate. The only l’amour coming her way was another piece of cake.

She was in the process of sliding her feet back into her shoes—the price she had to pay for indulgence—when a deep voice startled her out of her reverie.

“This seat taken?”

Drew Montgomery did not wait for an answer. He was already folding himself into the chair next to Caroline. Of course, given the fact that the table was empty, his question was probably rhetorical.

Caroline checked her posture and felt the involuntary reflex of her fingers sweeping across her lips, checking for errant crumbs and stray smudges of icing. Now, as Drew sat next to her—and just where had he materialized from? Never mind that—now that he was here, the first piece of cake she had eaten felt like a rock in her gut. She inhaled slowly to settle her nerves, and the bodice of her dress felt tight. That second piece of cake...well, now it just seemed like a bad idea.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you this earlier, but nice dress.” Drew’s eyes, the same shade of dark brown as Maya’s imported chocolates, sparkled with mischief. This was another side to the sexy man who tended to make her mouth go dry and her mind go blank when he walked into the room...especially now that he was sitting next to her. Man, he looked good in that tux.

Caroline forced herself to look out at the dance floor so she wouldn’t stare at Drew. “Yeah, my sister promised us we’d get multiple uses out of it. What do you think? Is it suitable for a night on the town?”

She grabbed a fistful of pumpkin-colored taffeta and tulle underskirt and gave it a shake. It rustled like dry leaves in a trash bag.

As Drew took a long, slow draw of beer, his gaze meandered unselfconsciously from her handful of skirt, up the bodice of her dress, lingering a beat on her décolletage. She let go of the skirt and crossed her arms so that her forearm covered her cleavage and her hand rested at the base of her throat. His gaze resumed its journey, finally finding her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s kind of noisy.” Although he was nodding as if he approved. “But you wear it well, Caroline. Would be a shame to let it go to waste in the back of your closet. I say wear it and own it.”

“Own the fact that I look like someone’s Halloween pumpkin? I don’t think so, Drew.”

It wasn’t just the way he held her gaze, it was the way his dark, curly hair fell across his forehead and the teasing tilt of his sideways grin that also did her in. Suddenly she wasn’t quite so eager to retreat to that marble Jacuzzi tub...alone.

What if she asked him to join her?

Her cheeks burned at the thought.

He was her new brother-in-law’s best friend. Even though she had already dismissed the one-night-of-bliss fantasy, now that he was sitting here—so mesmerizingly close—she shouldn’t be thinking of him in the getting-naked-in-a-Jacuzzi way, either. Because if she found herself naked in a Jacuzzi with him, then that would inevitably lead to the one-night stand, which she had already dismissed. She wasn’t going to kid herself. With her workload at the firm and the extra hours she was putting in helping out her friend A. J. Sherwood-Antonelli baking desserts for Celebrations, Inc., a catering company, Caroline barely had time to sleep.

So, no, there was no time for a man in her life...well, beyond tonight, anyway. So maybe that was all the more reason she should put away her prude and just go for it.

She had to look away and bite the insides of her cheeks to rid herself of the thoughts that were ringing in her head right now. Not to mention, at this point she was surely the same shade of red as the cranberries in the table centerpieces.

What was wrong with her? Too much champagne? Sugar overload?

“Sugar,” he said.

Great. And now he was reading her mind.

“Excuse me?”

“I was thinking you looked more like a sweet sugar pumpkin in that dress rather than a carving pumpkin.” He grinned at her, relaxed and casual in his chair, obviously aware of how flustered he was making her. “There is a difference, you know? One of the reporters at the Journal just wrote an article about a pumpkin farm over in Celina. She said you should never use a big carving pumpkin for pie. It will be bitter. You have to use the small, firm sugar pumpkins. They’re much sweeter.”

Again, his eyes meandered the length of her dress.

Small, firm sugar pumpkins? Was he speaking metaphorically?

She shivered, but this time she did not cross her arms to hide herself. Instead, she blinked at him. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She reached out and swatted his arm. “If that’s the best you can do, that’s pathetic.”

See, the other dangerous thing she had learned about Drew Montgomery this weekend was that he had a way of pulling her out of that awkward, tongue-tied mire she initially found herself in when she was with him, and then it was a slippery slope into the sea of longing. Tonight, it seemed, there was no life preserver to save her. No lifeboat in which she could stash the bald truth: this man made her think and feel things she had no business thinking and feeling, because the places they led were dangerous.

He motioned to a woman carrying a tray of champagne. She wasted no time appearing at his side. Drew replaced Caroline’s empty flute with a full one.

“Pathetic, huh?” he asked.

“Pretty much.”

“Damn, I guess that means I’ll have to make it up to you. Or at least prove to you that I’m not pathetic. At least not when it counts.”

Good Lord, his smile was enough to push her over the edge of that slippery slope.

“Would you wear your sugar pumpkin dress out on the town if I wore this monkey suit? Tie and all—we match. See, pumpkin tie. Pumpkin dress.” He motioned back and forth.

She blinked, unsure of what to say. If she let herself go there, she might believe he was asking her out on a date.

“But that would mean you’d have to rent the monkey suit again, and I’d have to postpone burning this hideous dress.” She shook her head, feeling pretty clever for keeping up her end of the push-and-pull banter. “So, I don’t think it will work.”

He frowned and, oh, how she wanted to believe he really was disappointed by her pretend rebuff. This was simply casual flirting, but somehow it didn’t feel like the brand of casual they’d established this weekend.

“Well, then, if you’re turning me down for a date,” he said, “the least you can do is make it up to me some other way.”

Date? So he was asking her out on a real date? She in her hideous pumpkin-colored bridesmaid dress and he in his matching bow tie. That was a vision. Something in the mischievous look on his face hinted that he never took life seriously. She wasn’t quite sure if he was serious about this pumpkin-themed date.

Still, play along...

“What exactly did you have in mind?” she asked.

“Right at this moment?” He smiled, grabbed another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and set it in front of her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m onto your plans for the moment. You’re trying to get me drunk. So, does that mean you plan on taking advantage of me?”

“Is that an option?” he asked. “Because if it’s not, you’re perfectly welcome to take advantage of me.”

The dance beat slowed to something soulful and their gazes locked. The air between them shifted.

“You have to admit, Caroline, there’s some serious chemistry between you and me. And I don’t think you’re going to be in any shape to catch the bride’s bouquet until we do a couple of chemistry experiments and contain all this...you know—” he motioned back and forth between the two of them again “—this energy. Otherwise, it might throw you off your flower-catching game.”

See? He’d done it again. He’d started off talking about the chemistry between them—a chemistry that was so real it was almost palpable. No one with eyes could deny that. But then he switched tracks to something light and funny, leaving the serious edge hanging between them. Still, Caroline was no dummy; she knew that when he defaulted to light and funny it was because what was happening between them was simply casual flirting.

So keep it casual, Caroline. Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.

“Whoa there, Romeo, what makes you think I want to catch the bridal bouquet? And don’t you dare say all women want to catch the flowers.”

“You don’t like flowers?”

“I love flowers.”

He leaned in a little closer, resting his arm along the back of her chair. He was so close, she could feel the heat of his body and smell the intoxicating scent of him. It made her want to breathe in a little deeper. Suddenly, she forgot her entire case against catching the bride’s flowers. But then again she wasn’t really going to make a case. She was keeping this light and casual.

“Then why wouldn’t you want to catch them?” He whispered the words in her ear. His breath was hot on her cheek. It was all she could do to keep from dragging him straight up to that big marble Jacuzzi and having her way with him.

Instead, she reached out and ran her finger along the edge of his bow tie. Good lord, the man looked devastating in a tux, despite the dreadful pumpkin tie. Actually, it didn’t look bad with his dark eyes and hair...and he was so close. All she would have to do was lean in a fraction of an inch and her lips would be touching his. The realization made her bite down on her lower lip.

“My philosophy,” he said, “is you have to go after what you want in life. If not, what’s the point of living?”

His words hit home and were a little sobering. Why not go for something she wanted? Why not just this once do something completely out of character and take something just for herself? Even if it was impermanent...even if she could only have Drew for one night...

She had never slept with a guy before they were solidly in a committed relationship. The thought of getting physical with Drew left her breathless—or maybe it was the way Drew was looking at her. Whatever it was, something was different tonight. Was it the wedding? The champagne? Or maybe it was just the physical reaction of a woman wanting a man who seemed to want her back. Why make it any more complicated than it was?

His words echoed in her head, in her heart. You have to go after what you want in life. If not, what’s the point of living?

She really had not been living, had she?

“There’s definitely chemistry between us, Drew. But rather than trying to figure it all out, like a science experiment, don’t you just want to enjoy the magic? You know, get lost in the fantasy? Science steals the magic because it explains too much. I happen to like fantasy even more than I like flowers.”

“Science never was my thing,” he said. “Maybe we should...dance, instead.”