Page 45 of Meet Me at the Fudge Shop

Oh boy. “He said I’d never amount to anything if I couldn’t focus.”

“Overoneruined batch of fudge?”

She shrugged. “Like you said, hot temper. I think he hoped that he might pass the fudge shop down to Cody, but Cody was a little fisherman through and through and had no real interest in fudge making. My grandpa was stuck with me, and he wasnotthrilled about it.” Lily stopped paddling as the fudge reached two-thirty-six. “All right, it’s done.”

He peeked over her shoulder—too close for comfort, and of course his cologne swept over her. “How do you know?”

“Here.” She handed him the paddle. “Stir it. Feel the viscosity? Not too hard, not too soft.”

“Okay, Goldilocks.” He took the paddle from her and swished it around once, twice, three times. Nodded. “Got it. Now we pour it out, yeah?”

“Yep.”

Without saying a word, Declan hoisted the pot and carried it to the table, where Lily took one handle, and they tipped it over the table. The chocolate spilled out, a waterfall of sweet, gooey heaven.

“Wow—that smells good,” Declan said as he held the kettle handles so she could scrape out the remains with the paddle.

“It does. Now, if you were going to add peanut butter, you’d spread it out on the table before pouring this out. Nuts and candies you add later, before it cools.” Lily smoothed the liquid fudge across the table, filling the framing completely.

“Cool. Can you show me how to make that one next? The peanut butter one, I mean.”

“If you’ve got a recipe for it, sure.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, you think I’m going to steal yours?”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Okay. I’ll see if my mother has something.”

“Speaking of recipes, where did you put my recipe cards from last night?”

“I didn’t touch them.”

She glanced up at him, and strangely, believed him. “Huh. Guess I misplaced them, then.” With how she’d been feeling last night, it wouldn’t be too far out of the realm of possibilities.

“I’ll keep an eye out for them.”

“Not too close an eye, I hope.”

Shaking his head, the hint of a smile on his lips, Declan took the pot to clean. After a few minutes, Lily grabbed a metal scraper and sliced from the corner to the center, testing the fudge for thickening. It held, so she removed the framing bars and began the process of scraping and piling the fudge toward the center of the table, turning the fudge creamy.

Meanwhile, Declan leaned against the counter, arms folded.

“Yes?” She glanced at him.

“Just watching,” he said, and now heat pressed into her chest.

Ten minutes later, the creaming process was complete, and Lily began to shape it. The motion of shaping it with a wooden paddle had always been relaxing to her. Like she might be a sculptor. With every flip of her paddle, the fudge held its shape more and more until it resembled a large loaf of chocolate bread.

“Very impressive, Ms. Hart.”

She looked over. “Thank you, Mr. Kelley. Now, we’ll finish letting this set and then can cut it into half- to one-pound slices—some smaller for samples.” Pointing to the clean pots along the wall, she smiled. “The next batch is all you.”

He rubbed his hands together, got another kettle, and started the process all over again. He flipped in his notebook to a page and started adding measurements according to his recipe.

“What kind of fudge are you planning to make first, once you’ve got the process down? A little pistachio? Pecan-maple?”

“Think I’ll stick with chocolate for now.”

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