Page 42 of Meet Me at the Fudge Shop

Not today. Today she just kept hearing his words from last night.I got caught up in the idea of us.

Whatever.

He’d only made it worse then by looking like he’d wanted to…

What? Hug her? More.

Nope.

But the whole thing had her head spinning, and when he’d asked for a truce…

Oh, the man was good at his game of manipulation. First, a deal for her to teach him the family secrets—nope, not happening. She could teach a man the basics of fudge making without sharing their secret sauce.

And then he’d asked for the truce. And looked so earnest.

She should have run after him and taken it back, but frankly, the fact that he’d left the business meeting to check on her had sunk in, never mind his help with the ice cream maker. And then of course he had to tell her why he wanted the fudge shop. And despite the wounds of the past, it felt, okay, a little heroic to give up his life in Chicago to save Grandma’s house.

Heroic and maybe manipulative—probably something they taught him in business school.

Lily folded the blanket, stowed it in the bin under the table, and took stock of the shop. In her haste last night—after a quick round of ice cream making to ensure Declan’s fixes had worked—she’d left bowls and utensils dirty in the sink. But now they sat clean and sparkling on the drying mat beside the sink.

He’d returned to the shop after she left and cleaned up. Great. He probably thought her a mess. Note to self—maybe Oscar wasn’t so wrong about leaving behind a pristine kitchen.

But never mind that. Where had she placed her recipe cards? She’d had them out last night, hoping to spark some ideas for new ice cream flavors based on some of her favorite fudge recipes, but now they were nowhere to be found. Hmm. Probably Declan had placed them somewhere as well. She’d ask him later.

Lily opened the refrigerator, humming, forcing her mind away from the subject of Declan Kelley while she placed chocolate, cream, vanilla, sugar onto the counter. Then she pulled a clean copper pot—her mother’s favorite kettle—from its home on the storage rack and onto the cooking base. Gathered the wooden paddle, measuring cup, and a few other tools.

Even from back here, she could hear a key jiggle in the front door lock.

Her heart gave a quick pit-pat at the sound.Aw, c’mon.

Apparently Declan had rustled up a spare key somehow. Maybe Mia had searched Seb’s office since he was still away.

A few seconds later, Declan walked through the swinging kitchen door wearing those sunglasses…

Lily looked away, hating her rampant heartbeat.

“Good morning, Lily.”

Lily. Not Lil. Not even Widow.

So, no nicknames today, then. Good. Good. He was keeping things professional, just like she needed to do. “Good morning. Ready to make fudge?”

“Hopping right in. I like it.”

“I figured the sooner we both have some batches made, the sooner we can get this competition officially under way.” She walked toward the peg where a pair of aprons hung. Her mouth quirked. She shouldn’t. But she couldn’t help herself. Reaching for the navy blue apron, she looped it over her neck and around her back.

He eyed her, but walked over and picked up the other. Pink polka dot, Lily’s favorite—except not today.

Aw, she was being childish.

He said nothing as he wrapped it around his torso. It barely fit, the pink apron ending around the same place as his white shirt.

“Cute,” she said.

He smiled. “Real men can wear pink.”

Yeah they could, because it only outlined his in-shape form, and the joke was on her.

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