Page 5 of Love Bites

Shut up me. I’m calling dibs.

I wiped the drool from my chin, forgot about my coffee, and strolled oh so casually into the shop. Nothing screamed available like wild curls, bags under your eyes, and a chocolate-smeared apron you’d had on for three hours. Stunning hazel eyes lifted from the bonbons as I entered. He smiled. A strong, blinding smile that made me feel as if I’d downed that fresh pot of coffee in one pull. That smile. It energized me at the same time it made me feel tingles in my shorts. He was beautiful. Perfection. Masculine to the nth. A powerful man in designer corporate casual. Just the kind of man who would take me into his arms, kiss me until I was delirious, and whisk me to some castle in the Alps where he would pamper me and feed me my own bonbons. All my worries would be gone and we would fall hopelessly in love and adopt all the homeless cats in those famed mountains. I had no clue why I was so Alps-fixated of late but I was living it.

I smiled serenely as Crocus handed him a bonbon to sample.

“You!” Mamie snarled, busting my fantasy into tiny bits of broken candy cane dreams. “How dare you come into this store to snoop! Snoop!”

To my, and Crocus’s dismay, Mamie stormed up to the father of my future fur babies and slapped the ganache bonbon out of his hand. The candy rolled across the light blue tile floor. The man drew back his freshly slapped hand, turned, and beganspeaking to my grandmother in flawless French. Okay, it was German-accented French which was even sexier than plain old…

Stop with the idiocy and apologize to him! Do you know how many stray Alpine cats are relying on you to adopt them?!

“Mamie!” I shouted as Crocus darted—as quickly as a man the size of a locomotive could dart—around the large glass display case. I jumped between the man who would rub my feet for eternity and Mamie, placing my hands out to the sides as if I were breaking up a hockey fight. “Mamie, this man is a customer. We do not smack the candy out of the hands of a customer.”

“Pah!” She said as she glowered over my shoulder. “That is no customer. That is a spy!”

Mr. Sexy European Man of my Dreams spoke up, this time in English with that delightful accent that made my balls giggle in delight.

“Madame Aubert, I can assure you that I am not here to spy. I am here to speak with you and your grandson as previous other methods of discourse have failed.”

I blinked at the man. What now? How did he know my grandmother’s name? What kind of discourse? I would have remembered speaking to the man who was destined to rub my tired feet with scented oils as we lounged in our castle. I mean, what living being with eyeballs in their head would forget seeing this magnificent specimen?

“Bullshit!” Mamie snarled as I wrapped my arms around her. She was known to throw a mean left hook. Just ask the last guy who tried to get fresh with her at the seniors dance. Poor dude had to get new dentures made. “You are a spy! Come into our shop to taste our bonbons then scuttle back to that toad Bernhard to relay our secrets.”

I had no fucking clue. Neither did Crocus, who was dusting off the bonbon he’d picked up from the floor as he stared at the two combatants with confusion. I prayed he would not put it back in the case.

“Madame, that is my grandfather you are speaking of,” Mr. Sexy replied smoothly, his attention moving to me as if I could do anything but hug the firebrand a little closer.

“I am well aware of which toad I speak of young man. That one will piss on your hand when you try to pick him up!” Mamie raged.

“Uhm, I have no idea what that even meant but we are going to go sit in the office to cool down,” I said softly to my grandmother. “I’m sorry. She gets quite agitated when someone eyeballs the bonbons.” I cringed at the stupid flowing out of my mouth right now.

“Sit down on this!” She gave Mr. Gorgeous a robust arm of honor. The French way of flipping someone off. “I will sit no more forever as long as a Brauning is standing in our shop!”

When that name fell into the air it felt as if all the ozone in the shop was sucked out. Even Crocus, Tim, Dupont, and Mike were stunned into a stupor. Not a sound could be heard but the hum of the conveyer belt in the back and an old Linda Ronstadt song about someone being no good coming from the speakers in the corners of the gift shop.

“Brauning?” I asked on a shaky exhale, my dreams of that cat-filled castle going up in rancid smoke. “As in Brauning Chocolates?”

He nodded that salt-and-peeper perfectly styled thick hair. I died a little inside. “I am Phillip Brauning, Mr. Gray, and I have not come to spy, or steal secrets, truly we do not need to take your recipes.” Mamie threw a vile French curse over my shoulder that made Phillip wince as if he had been hit by a dart. “Madame, please, there is no need for name-calling. I have comein peace.” He held up both hands and gave us a charming smile. “I only wish to discuss the future of Harmony Chocolates with you both.”

“I think I said all I wanted to say to you via email,” I replied tartly. Mamie nodded so hard her curly hair bounced. “Now, you may take your conglomerate backside out of my shop and go back home.”

He exhaled then, unexpectedly, gave us both a bow. “I am sorry for arriving unannounced and shocking you both. Perhaps I will revisit tomorrow after you have had time to calm down to see if we can sit as adults and reach an accord?”

I said nothing. Mamie continued to give him hell in French. Phillip Brauning merely inclined his head then left, plucking the bonbon that had fallen to the floor from Crocus’s open palm as he went. He popped it into his mouth, chewed, and then rubbed his tummy before leaving the store. The tiny silver bells over the door rang out his departure. A really nice departure if I were being honest. Aloof, professional, sexy exits demanded some recognition.

Things remained silent for a whole minute or two as we all tried to digest what had just happened. It was a lot to take in. And while I mourned the loss of that castle I felt a fire begin to smolder deep inside. It was not one that Conor would be able to put out with his hose.

Oh yuck, that sounded slutty, but yeah, this fire was internal. The enemy had arrived on our shores. To arms! They must be driven back and to hell with their beautiful eyes and plump lips.

This was a candy war and there could only be one victor.

I WAS FITto be tied when I pushed into Lucy’s Bar on the corner of Main and Periwinkle.

My day had been shit. Not just regular shit but mega nasty shit. And all due to that brazen sexy bastard, Phillip Brauning, strolling into my shop as if he already owned it. Talk about balls. I mean, seriously, what kind of person flies all the way from Germany to seal a deal on a tiny candy shop in the wilds of New Hampshire? Why did Brauning Chocolates even want my store? There was something hinky about all of this and I needed a beer and commiseration.

I would find both here. Lucy owned this little hole-in-the-wall sports bar and she was one of the best people in Caldwell Crossing. The cook, Mary, made the best blue cheese burgers this side of the Rockies. I was now over the Alps. I was sticking strictly to American mountains and men from here on out. Oh sure, we didn’t have novice nuns twirling about on the flowery mountain tops of Montana but we had cows, motherfucker. Big old American beefers. Moo howdy. And I was going to eat some of that American beef for dinner tonight. Hashtag ‘Murica.

The bar was midway filled with locals. My boys were in our corner booth by the old gas pump from a Citgo station Lucy’s dad had run during the seventies. Why it was here no one knew. Probably someone had it installed it for sentimental reasons. I lifted a hand at the brunette behind the bar. The barkeep, Lucy, nodded as she pulled some mugs for the guys at the bar. It was dark in here, kind of depressing, and filled with Caldwell Crossing nostalgia. The gas pump just one of many things from various businesses that time had pushed into closing. Mom-and-Pop stores, little local grocers, craft shops. So many gone. And my candy shop would likely be next…

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