Tabitha Knight is one of the most sought after chocolatiers in Cherry Creek, Colorado. The owner of the exclusive, upscale candy store Tabitha Chocolates, Tabitha cleans up on profits during Valentine’s week; however, she hates Valentine’s Day and everything it stands for.
The only daughter of a mother who enjoys marrying men, often, Tabitha doesn’t believe in love at first sight, falling head over heels in love, or marriages planned on a whim. But when Preston Banks, the son of her best client, happens into her life she’s finds out that not only will too much chocolate make your head spin, but so will the right man saying the right things at the right time.
CHAPTER ONE
Three hundred more truffles needed to be
rolled and Tabitha’s hands had long gone numb. On any other day she’d take the
time to stretch her fingers or even run them under warm water to relieve the
cramping. But it was February and that meant no stopping until the fifteenth.
It was also spontaneous wedding season where people jumped at the thought of
marriage and that always made for a lot more work.
She blew a loose strand of hair from her
eyes and kept making perfectly round balls from the batter before setting them
on the lined tray to her side. She couldn’t remember a year when she’d had as
many wedding chocolates to make. Her biggest client Claire Banks, an esteemed
wedding planner, must have booked every day in February with a wedding or
party. And she had chosen Tabitha Chocolates to tempt the guests at every
table.
It was work that Tabitha lived for, but
added to her already heavy workload before Valentine’s Day, she was feeling a
bit pinched for time and her mood was sinking fast.
“Okay, it’s done.” Brie darted into the
prep area of Tabitha’s small Cherry Creek store, waving a work order. “We just
picked up the Johnson-Carr wedding.”
Tabitha squished the dough ball in her hand.
“How are we going to get this all done? We might need to start saying no,” she
grumbled as she rolled yet another truffle through the cocoa and then set it on
the tray to dry.
“Hey listen, Ms. Valentine and
Wedding-Scrooge, I’ve been planning a tropical vacation with grass huts and
fruity drinks with umbrellas. We need all the weddings we can get so I can make
the big bucks and get out of this icebox for a while.” Brie hung the order on a
clipboard on the order wall.
Tabitha scowled as she scooped out a dozen
more truffles to be rolled through the coating and set them on the tray.
“Scrooge, huh?”
“You work too hard. You forget what it’s
like to have men fall at your feet at least one day a year.”
“Yet you and my mother seem to think it
should happen all the time. I mean, how many times can the woman get engaged
and married on Valentine’s Day? Doesn’t it take away the special meaning?”
“Maybe she does it just to piss you off.”
Brie grinned, and Tabitha wondered if her and her mother didn’t just plan to make
her crazy on purpose.
Tabitha shook her head as Brie went back
to answering the phone at the front counter. Sometimes your best friends
shouldn’t be the people you hire.
She blew out a breath and thought of the
upcoming holiday. She couldn’t help but be cynical in February. People turned
starry-eyed and lovesick all because of a greeting card holiday. She, for one,
knew better than to believe in such fanciful dreams.
Her own mother had fallen head over heels
in love on Valentine’s Day. Who thinks that meeting the man of your dreams is
possible when selling flowers on the street corner? And how asinine is it to
run off with a man whose tongue dripped satin words? Marriage after four days
of shacking up in a hotel room did not make for a lifetime of happy memories,
Tabitha thought as she dusted her hands off on her apron. She hopped down from
the stool, on which she’d been perched for hours, and sought out a cup of
coffee.
As she washed the cocoa from her hands,
she gave thought to the phrase “love at first sight.” The idea was ridiculous,
but people fell for it all the time. And there she was, making money off of
their sentimental dreams.
She opened the cupboard and pulled down
her favorite, green, oversized mug. She poured strong, black coffee inside and
rested against the counter. She wasn’t sure why she was worried about who fell
in love. It paid her bills, and it appeared that love would soon send Brie on a
tropical vacation.
By late afternoon, Tabitha had rolled
thousands of truffles. She had rolled some in cocoa and others in milk
chocolate. Another batch was set aside for a variety of white and dark
chocolate. Prepping strawberries for tomorrow’s dipping would keep her busy for
the rest of the night.
Brie poked her head into the workroom. “I
locked up and am going to head out. I have a date.” She wiggled her eyebrows
and Tabitha shook her head. When did the girl not have a date? “Would you mind
cleaning out the display?”
“Of course.” Tabitha laid a long stem
strawberry out on a tray to dry.
“I closed out the register.” Brie pulled
her coat from the rack and slipped it on.
“Who are you going out with?”
“Video store guy. He is so fine that I
think I’ve fallen in love.”
Tabitha shook her head. Did this new love
know Brie had fallen in love already three other times since New Year’s Eve?
With Brie gone, Tabitha turned on the
radio to fill the silence. She’d laid out the strawberries and set them on the
rack, then pushed it into the cooler.
The storefront was dark and the sign had
been turned to closed. Tabitha began the process of removing the few unsold
chocolates from the display and boxing them to sell on the shelves the next
day. It was rare that she discarded any chocolate. Her business had been voted
one of the best stores in both Cherry Creek and Denver, and her chocolate was
ordered online all over the world. She laughed to herself when she thought
about how sweet business had been for
her.
Tabitha bent over and pulled a tray from
the case. When she stood, she saw the face of a man, his gloved hands cupped
around his eyes, looking into the store. She nearly dropped the tray of petit
fours to the ground. When he’d seen her, he’d stepped back and waved.
Her heart beat at an uncomfortable pace.
This was one of those times she wished she’d taken her mother’s advice and
planted a gun under the counter. The idea was as stupid as the grin on the
man’s lips that told her he wasn’t dangerous. Or, at least, she hoped so.
She set down the tray and walked to the door,
her hands shaking from the startle he’d given her. The man stepped back, still
grinning widely as Tabitha pointed to the CLOSED sign.
“Please.” She could hear him plead through
the door.
It wasn’t like her to open the door to a
stranger, but this one had a familiar look to him, though she was sure she’d
never seen him before. She looked around the streets and people still walked
between the stores. If she had to scream, someone would likely hear her.
She unlocked the door and opened it
slightly, keeping her foot blocked behind it. “We’re closed.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. I just flew in from
a convention in New York, my flight was late, and the bus to the parking lot
was—”
“Sir,” she cut him off, holding her hand
up. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“Listen, I’ll pay double if you’ll help me
out. It’s my mother’s birthday and I’ve already missed the party. If I don’t
walk through the door with a box of Tabitha Chocolates and bat my big, brown
eyes at her, she’ll have my head.”
She considered him for a moment. “Batting
your eyes won’t work on its own?” The trick seemed to be working on her.
“I don’t think so. Not this time.”
His short, brown hair had tunnels where
his fingers must have raked through dozens of times. Dark circles shadowed
under his eyes, which when fully alert she assumed would burn into a woman with
their dark brown warmth. The collar of his shirt was open and his tie hung
loosely around his neck. The long, wool coat, which should have kept him nice
and warm in the bitter cold of Denver’s winter, gaped open across his chest.
Against her better judgment, Tabitha moved
her foot from behind the door and let him into the store.
She walked around the counter quickly to
put space between them. “I’m afraid I don’t have much of a selection. A week before
Valentine’s Day we’re usually sold out of the favorites.”
The man stopped and looked at the bare
shelves in the display as he pulled his hands from his gloves. “You probably
know my mother. She comes in often enough. Maybe you could help me throw together
something.”
“Who is your mother?”
“Claire Banks.”
“Your mother is Claire Banks?” The image
of his mother crossed her mind. Looking at the handsome man across from her,
she found it hard to believe that Claire’s son was such a head turner.
“You do know her.”
“Of course I know her.” Half of her order
board had the woman’s name on it, thankfully. “I mean no disrespect, but
really, do you think a box of chocolates is what she needs for her birthday?”
She hated how it sounded the moment it came out. But when the corners of his
mouth turned up into a smile, which sent an alarming sizzle through her, she
realized she hadn’t offended him.
He leaned his arms on the top of the case.
“My father tried to buy her flowers once. She said she didn’t get any joy out
of looking at pretty things. She’d rather eat pretty things. I prefer to
appease her and think of her health later.”
A giggle grew in her chest and she kept it
forced down. This man was keeping her at work even later than she’d
anticipated. She just wanted his money and wanted him out. “She enjoys the
petit fours quite a bit. I could probably spare some of the truffles I dipped a
few hours ago, but I won’t have the strawberries until the morning.”
“Dear Lord, how much time does she spend
in here?”
“Client confidentiality.” She smiled and
it almost hurt, which made her realize she’d been doing her fair share of
scowling lately. Februarys were usually for profit and hard work, not for
smiling at handsome men.
“You have the most beautiful eyes.”
The comment had her swallowing back the
smile. Her spine stiffened. “I beg your pardon.”
“Really. They’re the color of milk
chocolate with swirls of caramel. It’s no wonder you’re so good at being a
chocolatier. It must run through your blood.”
“This isn’t going to get you a price
discount or strawberries in that box.”
That smile crossed his lips again. “Oh, I
didn’t mean any disrespect.” Humor filled his voice. “I appreciate fine art the
way my mother appreciates fine chocolates. Your eyes, like your chocolates, are
beautiful. I’m sorry that you mind that I told you that.”
“I don’t mind.” She turned and pulled a
white pastry box from the shelf behind her. Inside it, she adjusted the paper
doily. “I’m just not comfortable with strangers looking at me the way you do.”
“Well then, I suppose we should fix that.”
He reached his hand over the counter. “Preston Banks. Son of Claire Banks, the
distinguished wedding planner.”
Hesitantly, she shook his hand. “Tabitha
Knight, the wedding planner’s choice for her chocolates. Privately and
professionally.”
His eyes widened. “You’re Tabitha? As in
Tabitha Chocolates? As in owner of the store?”
She pulled her hand from his,
uncomfortable with his reaction. “You seem surprised.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have pictured you as the
entrepreneur type.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“I mean …” He raked his fingers through
his hair, deepening the channels where his fingers had traveled before. “What I
meant to say was that I expected the name to only be a name. How many young and
attractive women have their handmade products in some of the most exclusive
shops and on the trays at the most elegant weddings?”
She swallowed back the urge to gasp at the
attractive comment. She was out of her element. These were the kind of comments
Brie usually received. “You seem to know my work well.”
“Claire Banks is my mother, remember?”
Tabitha gave into her smile again. “She
has been a substantial help to my business. I do tend to be on her list of
people to call when she’s planning a wedding.”
“Then with Valentine’s Day around the
corner you must be extremely busy.”
“You have no idea.” And, she thought, if
he’d only finish his purchase she could get back to work on those orders his
mother had placed for clients.
“That’s why I cut my trip short and I’m
headed to her place. Not only is it her birthday, but this year it seems she’s
bitten off more than she can chew. She’s booked one too many weddings this year,
and now the entire family is in charge of seeing they all go off without a
hitch.”
“Awfully nice that you could help her out.”
Tabitha began filling the box with items
she knew Claire Banks would enjoy.
Preston looked around. “How did you get
into this?”
“Chocolate?” He let out an agreeable hum
and she shrugged. “It was something I always loved. I fell in love with my Tabitha
Hobby Oven and making those little cakes.”
“Were you one of those girls who wouldn’t
share? My sisters never would share Easy-Bake cakes with me.”
Tabitha added a few more candies to the
box. “I made one of my mother’s first wedding cakes in my oven. Soon it turned into
cookies and decorating the tops. Then I learned the fine art of a double boiler
and a chocolatier was born.” She counted out the items in the box silently.
“And with my mother’s affection for getting married every few years, it seemed like
a good hobby to acquire.”
“And how many times has she been married?”
The humor in his eyes raked on her nerves when he asked.
“On Valentine’s Day, it will be her
fifth.”
“Fifth?” His voice rose in pitch.
Tabitha hated reactions like that, but
that’s what she got for opening her big mouth. She shook her head in disgust as
she added a few more truffles to the box. He was irritating her, and he was
going to pay for it as the box was getting heavier.
He shook his head. “All I can say is wow.
Is she using my mother to plan her wedding?”
“If I were only that lucky. No, as if I
weren’t busy enough, she’s somehow designated me as her bridal planner.”
Tabitha added the last petit fours from the tray she’d taken from the display
and closed the box.
“Where do you find time if this is your
busy season?”
“A question I’ve asked myself.” She laid
the box atop the display. “This is sixty dollars’ worth of Tabitha Chocolates.
Do you want me to dig up more, or do you think she’ll be fine with this?”
“I think she’ll be delighted.” He handed
her a fifty and a twenty, not once blinking at the price. Perhaps she should
have added quite a bit more.
“I’ll be back. I’ve closed the drawer so I
have to get you change.” She turned to walk to her office.
“No,” he said, and she stopped. “Consider
it my thank you for opening the door.”
“I appreciate it, but that’s not
necessary.”
“I insist.”
At that, she turned and pulled a ribbon
from a spool that hung on the wall. Carefully she lifted the box and tied the
ribbon around it.
Preston watched her intently and lifted
his eyes to hers when she finished with the bow. “Are you busy tomorrow night?”
“I’m sorry. What?” Her tone carried her
impatience. She just wanted to get back to work so she could finally get home.
“I’d love to take you to dinner.”
She adjusted the bow atop the box and
added a gold foiled sticker with the name of the bakery. “Mr. Banks, thank you,
but …”
“Preston,” he reminded her with a smile.
It did its job in calming her, but she wasn’t comfortable with a stranger
asking her out. She was in unfamiliar territory.
“Preston. I don’t go out with men I’ve
only just met.”
“Why?”
“Why? It’s that simple. I don’t know you.”
“No, but you could if you have dinner with
me. Unless you’re married.” His brows drew together and the creases around his
lips deepened. “I didn’t think about that.”
“I’m not married.”
“Great,” he said. “I’ll stop by here after
you close. If you’re not done, I’d be happy to help you.”
“You talk fast.” She held her hands up as
if to stop him. “Do you sell used cars?”
“No, only the finest BMWs and Jags.” He
smiled when she scowled. “I don’t really have to do a lot of talking. The cars
sell themselves. But if I keep talking the buyer can’t walk away from the
sale.”
“I’m walking away.”
“No, you’re not. You’re going to let me
take you to dinner tomorrow because now you’re intrigued. And because my mother
is not only one of your biggest customers with her business, she’s a great fan
of yours as well.” He reached over the counter and grabbed her hand. He lifted
it to his lips and brushed her knuckles with a kiss. “Tabitha, it certainly was
my pleasure to meet you. Thank you for helping me out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He picked up his box and walked out the door.
Tabitha stood still, rendered speechless
by the man who had waltzed in and out of her store. Apparently she was having
dinner with the man. Had she said yes?
She wouldn’t go. No one talked her into
things like that. The last thing she needed in February was some man taking her
to dinner. She was much too busy.
As she folded the money he’d handed her
and shoved it into her pocket, she thought of Preston Banks and his playful
smile. He was right. She was definitely intrigued.
Bestselling Author
Bernadette Marie is known for building families readers want to be part of. Her
series The Keller Family has graced bestseller charts since its release in
2011, along with her other series and single title books. The married mother of
five sons promises Happily Ever After always...and says she can write it,
because she lives it.
When not writing,
Bernadette Marie is shuffling her sons to their many events--mostly hockey--and
enjoying the beautiful views of the Colorado Rocky Mountains from her front
step. She is also an accomplished martial artist with a second degree black
belt in Tang Soo Do.
A chronic
entrepreneur, Bernadette Marie opened her own publishing house in 2011, 5
Prince Publishing, so that she could publish the books she liked to write and
help make the dreams of other aspiring authors come true too.
Bestselling Author Bernadette Marie is known for building families readers want to be part of. Her series The Keller Family has graced bestseller charts since its release in 2011, along with her other series and single title books. The married mother of five sons promises Happily Ever After always…and says she can write it, because she lives it.
