Page 27 of Meet Me at the Fudge Shop

She pulled her bike to a stop and swung her leg over, taking a moment to adjust her leather leggings where they pinched at her thighs. Then she fished her key out of her backpack and popped it into the metal lock of the wooden door. She felt his eyes on her the whole time. Turning to him, her gaze narrowed. “What?”

“Nothing, Widow. Nothing at all.”

“Widow?” She glanced down at her pants, rolled her eyes. “As in Black Widow? Really?”

He shrugged, hands still in his pockets like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like his very presence here wasn’t completely upending her world.

“Whatever.” The key clicked in the lock. She pulled on the door handle, but then faced him again. “Are you really going to do this? Fight me for my family’s fudge shop?”

She made herself as tall as her five-foot-four frame could be. Like a sparrow against an eagle while Declan stood over her, somewhere near six-foot-two. Maybe she could just make him stand here, never letting him inside. Of course, that would mean never going inside herself, and that would hardly lend itself to a profitable shop.

“I really don’t have a choice, Lily.”

“Sure you do. You can head on back to the airstrip and fly on out of here, back to Chicago. Out of my life.” Where he should have stayed.

“Can we just go inside?” He held out his arm, glanced behind him. “You’re making a scene.”

She peeked around him. Across the street outside of the diner stood Mia’s mother-in-law, Constance Franklin, and a frail-looking older woman along with retired nurse Peggy Martinez. They were looking their direction with raised eyebrows before turning with grins and slipping inside Martha’s. A pair of older gentlemen also watched them from one of the café’s large picture windows.

“Argh. Fine.” She opened the door and forced herself to hold it for him. A whiff of his annoying, expensive aftershave settled over her when he passed by. “But this isn’t because you told me to. It’s because I’m being generous,Slick. Don’t get comfortable, because you won’t be here long.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” He had the nerve to walk straight through, taking a position behind the main counter. Like he already owned the place. His fingers glanced across the left-most display case as he slipped his briefcase from his shoulder and pulled a laptop from inside. “Now, how do we want to approach this?”

Lily opened her mouth to respond that there was nowehere, but shock stole her words. Because the entire lobby—from the counter and display cases to the two marble demonstration tables that sat in front of the large front windows, to the supplies and copper pots lining the left side of the shop and even the counter-height table and barstools along the right window overlooking Jonathon Boulevard—was spotless.

Lily turned a circle. The floors gleamed. The windows exhibited nary a spiderweb or crusted section of grime. Even the light fixtures hanging over the counter had been scrubbed clean.

“Did you do this?” It must have taken him hours. All afternoon and late into the evening. When Lily had been busy trying to find a way out of the contest, Declan had been dirtying his hands.

As if it were already his shop. Her hands flexed at her sides. He was seriously so…

“You’re welcome.” Flipping open the laptop, he clicked around on the keyboard. “Ah. Okay, here it is. I think?—”

“You had no right.”

His left eyebrow lifted. “Excuse me?”

“To do all of this.” She flicked her finger around the room. Then she walked over and shut his laptop lid, leaning forward. “This isn’t your shop—and it never will be.”

“I’m sorry, are you actuallymadat me for cleaning up the shop thatyourfamily left in disrepair?”

What—? “My mother has arthritis, you jerk. She can’t exactly keep everything spotless on her own.”

The hard planes of his face eased just a bit. “I am sorry about that. But I didn’t clean this place so I could stake some sort of claim over it.”

“Right.” She pulled back, slipped her own backpack to the floor, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Seems everything you’ve done since arriving here has been calculated. But that’s your way, isn’t it?”

“Better than just improvising, hoping it all just works out.” He finger-quoted the last words. For a second, too, his stony expression seemed to falter. Emotion flashed through his eyes, then vanished. His hard gaze returned. “Because that’s not how the world works. And for your information, I cleaned the shop because you were nowhere to be found, and it needed to be done. Now.” He reopened the laptop lid and looked at her with those cool blue eyes. “I think it would be easier if we could work together when need be. Like ordering supplies. It’ll be a lot cheaper if we bulk order and split it up when it?—”

“Worktogether? Are you serious? I’d rather shave fifty pounds of chocolate by hand than work with you.” She didn’t need his Kelley ego, sucking the oxygen out of her airspace.

He cocked his head. “I don’t like this any more than you do.”

“Really? You’re not enjoying the opportunity to stick it to a Hart?” Toher.

“Grow up, Lily. We’re adults now. This childish feud is a thing of the past.”

She didn’t know why his words felt like a slap.

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