“You’re a terrible liar,” I told him as he sidled up next to me then slid on a pair of gloves. “But, I’m actually glad to see you. I’m horrible at this.”
“I’m sure you’re not,” he insisted, bumping me with his hip. Then he looked at the completed berries on the tray. “That’s not bad for a half-hour of dipping.”
“It’s been almost two hours.”
“Oh.” His lips rolled together, but it didn’t hide his grin. Mirth danced in his eyes. “Well, these look good, so you’re doing great.”
“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes as I picked up a skewer and stabbed another berry. “I’m getting there.”
“Oh, good,” Maple breathed when she came back and saw him. Yeah, she thought I was doing terrible and had called for reinforcements rather than send me packing. “Micha, dear, go grab the sandwich cookies and get dipping.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded at his grandmother and hurried off to do as she’d asked, while she returned to whatever they were doing up front.
“How far behind have I put everyone?” I asked as Micha and I started working together at the table.
“Not at all,” he insisted.
I watched as he expertly stabbed and dipped cookies, lining up a dozen on the tray in less than a minute.
Damn it.
I turned back to my own task, determined to get a handle on this. If the music composer could look like a master chocolatier, then I could, too.
Within ten minutes, it became obvious we’d silently decided to race each other, and our results were rapidly going downhill. At one point, his stick knocked against mine in the pot, causing me to lose another berry to the depths of the chocolate.
“You did that on purpose,” I accused, glaring over at him.
“I would never,” he defended in mock-affront.
I pulled my stick from the chocolate and flicked it at him, splattering him with the candy. He stared at me, his eyes wide. His tongue darted out to flick a speck from his lower lip.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” he said. Still, he dipped his stick into the pot and returned fire.
“Oh my God!” I yelled, swiping at my face. I knocked him with my hip, pushing him aside as I dipped and flicked at him again.
Soon, we were in a full-out chocolate war, resorting to dipping our fingers into the tempered chocolate and swiping at each other, both of us laughing hysterically. My sides and face hurt from giggling as we battled.
“You’re impossible,” I said, holding my stomach as I stared up at him. “Look at this mess.”
“You look adorable,” he said.
His arm snaked around my waist. Before I even realized it was happening, I was in his arms, his mouth crashing over mine.
I held him tightly, my lips parting for his tongue as he kissed me, the sugary taste of chocolate exploding in my mouth. My breasts pressed firmly against his chest, and my chocolate-covered hands slid up to cup his cheeks. Micha held me tighter to the hard planes of his body, one particular hardness very evident against my belly.
“Whatis going on back here!” Maple demanded as she bustled into the backroom again.
Micha and I broke apart quickly. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment at being caught by Maple while I’d been exploring her grandson’s tonsils, both of us absolutely covered in chocolate.
I looked around and realized that we’d made an absolute mess of the backroom. Chocolate was everywhere—on the table, the walls, the floor…on us. The completed berries and cookies had been flecked in the process.
I stared wide-eyed, trying to come up with an answer.
“He started it,” I finally blurted.
“Traitor!” Micha exclaimed. I was sure he would have flicked more chocolate at me if his grandmother hadn’t been standing right there.
Maple pressed her lips together, biting back an obvious laugh. “I meant…how is it going back here, you two?”
