Page 88 of Meet Me at the Fudge Shop

“How’s it going?” Interrupting his thoughts, Brandon walked up to the table and perused the offerings. He carried a generous green scoop in a waffle cone.

“It’s going great, no thanks to you, traitor.”

Brandon licked a drip off his cone. “Oh, yeah—sorry. But, she’s got pistachio, and it’s really good.”

“Whatever, dude.” Declan waved him off. It’s not like he was actually upset, but it was fun to tease his cousin. He’d miss him when Brandon left town?—

Wait—what? Apparently, his heart had already made up its mind.

“I’ll buy from you too. It’ll cancel my purchases out.” Brandon bit into the ice cream. “Seriously, though. This stuff is amazing.”

“I know.” And Declan was okay with that—because, deep down, he really did want Lily to win, despite the fact that he had no idea what kind of aftershocks it might cause Dad if they lost the fudge shop. If Grandma lost her house.

But they’d figure it out, together.

Because he’d finally found someone to share his life with. Someone who saw him as more than a problem solver, more than a title, more than a suit.

Lily saw Declan for who he was—flaws and all—and she accepted him. More than that, she wanted him.

Declan looked over and caught a little smile from Lily. It was the reassurance he’d been needing all day. He grinned back at her.

“Dude, you’ve got it bad.” Brandon leaned in closer. “So I’ve gotta ask—did you take my advice?”

“What advice is that?”

Brandon gave him a look.

Declan busied himself with plating a few fudge samples. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“My man!” Lifting a hand for a high five, Brandon laughed. “So you did kiss her.”

He pushed Brandon’s hand down. “Shh.” Declan glanced at Mom’s booth, but thankfully she was busy with a customer. “I haven’t told my family yet. That’s a conversation for after the contest, when we know who won.”

“Why does that matter?” Brandon took another bite of his ice cream.

“I just don’t want it between us anymore. Maybe my family will be able to deal with the news of our relationship better if we win.”

“And if you don’t win? Won’t that just make them even less inclined to accept the two of you?”

Declan blew out a breath. “Maybe.”

“Seems to me that maybe there is no perfect time.”

“Oh, just go eat your ice cream and leave me in peace.”

Laughing, Brandon saluted and walked off without buying any fudge.

Before Declan could call after him, several customers approached his booth and there was a constant stream of traffic the rest of the afternoon. A few hours before sunset, Uncle Patrick came by, leaving Olive and her fourteen-year-old brother, Scott, manning the booth for the Bar & Grill.

“You’ll be closing your tills at eight,” he said. Tills—Declan’s and Lily’s. And then it would all be over. “Jim Michaelson from the bank has volunteered to tally everything up so there’s no room for error. He’ll hand those numbers over to Dani, who’s already got your accounting totals from the prior sales to date.”

“Sounds good.”

The next hour saw a handful of new customers, but for the most part, things were winding down. Even so, there was a certain satisfaction in it all, despite the soreness in Declan’s feet and the ache in his neck from bending over the table, taking people’s money. It was so different from being stuck behind a desk, in boardrooms, in meeting after pointless meeting.

There was legacy and good work and family here. And, for at least a little while, he’d been a part of it. He’d been accepted back into the fold. Forgiven.

And he could rest in the fact that he’d done everything he could to make the Kelley fudge shop a success. To save Grandma’s house.

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