Chocolate Dreams At The Gingerbread Cafe. Rebecca Raisin
up as the soft sunlight begins to fade. The street empties as town folk make their way home at the end of the day. Charlie wandered off home with one of the older kids who live next door to us to watch movies but more likely take a nap after a busy day baking.
“I’m going to go ahead and bring the tables inside,” I say to CeeCee. Outside the air has cooled, and I hug my cardigan tight. Flowers bloom from our pots, bright red roses so vivid I can’t help but stare at them, enjoying the way they sway slightly in the breeze, almost as if they’re waving. I fold a small wooden table, and go to lift it when Damon appears.
“Let me take care of that,” he says, lifting it as if it weighs nothing.
He hoists it over his shoulder and navigates the doorway, careful not to knock it into the newly painted walls. In his wake, his aftershave and the mix of scents that perpetually envelop him drifts to where I stand. The usual Damon smell of coffee beans, and something spicy with a hint of cinnamon; he’s downright edible, and it makes my pulse quicken.
When he returns for another table, he glances at me and stops. “What is it?” Concern etches his face. “You look so pale, Lil.” He rubs his strong hands up and down my arms.
“Just enjoying the view,” I say, giving him the once-over, but my voice sounds strange, even to me.
He pulls me to him, and holds me tight. Resting my face against his chest, I hear the steady thrum of his heart. It’s comforting and in some cheesy way I imagine it beats just for me. I know I need to confide in him about Joel. Damon’s not one to tell me what to do, but I owe it to him to explain so he knows it’s about closure once and for all and nothing more.
He clasps my face, rains kisses on my forehead, the tip of my nose, and then ever so softly on my lips. I close my eyes, and kiss him back, harder with more urgency. We pull apart and I gaze up at him; his eyes are lit with a question. He tilts his head, like a sign to start talking.
“It’s Joel,” I say. “He’s back and he wants to see me. Says he’s got something to discuss.” Damon’s hands fall to the crook of my back, and I shuffle closer to him. Arching slightly to see each other, we rest thigh to thigh, hip to hip, connected.
I continue: “I don’t want you to think it’s anything more than it is. I feel absolutely nothing for him except pity, if you can even call it that.”
He searches my face before replying. “What do you think he feels for you, though, Lil?”
“Whatever it is it’ll only be a passing thing. He’s at a stopgap right now, and that’s got something to do with it. But I won’t go if it makes you second-guess us.” I gesture to the small space between our hearts.
Damon lets out a gruff sigh. “Nothing’ll make me second-guess us, Lil. If you feel you need to do this, you go on and do it. I trust you, Lil, I know you. And that’s all that matters to me. Plus we don’t call you feisty Lil for nothing. I know you can look after yourself.”
I slap him playfully across the arm. “Who calls me feisty Lil?”
He shrugs. “You know…everyone.”
I grin up at him. “They do not!”
“OK, they don’t.” His face softens with laughter.
“Well, I’m glad you trust me, and I just know it’ll be easier to see him face to face and sort this out once and for all.”
“If he hurts you in any way, you know I’ll kill him, right?” Damon says, his voice light, but I can still make out the serious undertone.
“You’ll have to get in line behind Cee. Who I haven’t told, by the way,” I add quickly.
He runs a hand through my hair, tucking it behind my ear. He’s so gentle in everything he does; I get to wondering how I’m so lucky. “You think that’s wise?” he asks. “I happen to know from experience it doesn’t take long for news to spread around town.”
I blush, thinking back to Christmas Eve when Damon and I first kissed. No way we could keep it to ourselves when we embraced passionately in front of the town hall where almost all of the residents of Ashford stood, waiting for the carols to begin. I blame Damon for that public display of affection. He’s got a way of making me forget where I am and what the hell I’m doing.
“Lil?”
I blink away the memory of kissing him in the snow. “I’ll tell her tomorrow, when he’s gone. CeeCee’s liable to hunt out Curtis’s old shotgun if she knows he’s here.”
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