Page 32 of You Had Me at Chocolate

She had. But using him for what had essentially been a sleeping pill seemed mercenary in the cold light of day.

“You hungry?”

Clem leapt at the change of subject. “I am if those croissants are on offer.”

“They are. And they should be cooled down enough to eat.” He pulled the towel out from his belt and picked one up off the tray. Satisfied they were ready he put it on a plate for her and handed it over. “Coffee?”

Clem nodded and he turned to the coffee machine as she leaned her hip into the central bench. Man, he was good at this morning-after stuff, making it as easy and un-awkward for her as possible despite her ineptness. He wasn’t pushing and he wasn’t acting all freaked out. Just, business as usual.

But… as much as she’d like to pretend nothing had happened, the mature thing was to talk about it—make sure they were okay. That he was okay with staying just friends. Because she very much wanted that. Even if she’d never forget how good he looked naked. Or how tender and generous he was as a lover.

Placing her plate down on the nearby bench, she addressed his back. “I think we should talk about last night.” She cleared the slight tremor in her voice betraying how high the stakes suddenly felt. “Make sure we’re both on the same page.”

Because there was a lot going on right now and although her life plans were on hold for the foreseeable future, it didn’t mean she was abandoning them. Just putting them on pause. She still had her sights on a life outside Marietta.

He turned again, a lopsided smile on his face, his hands loose by his sides. “We can do that, if you want. Or, we can acknowledge that you’ve had a tough week and you needed to not think about it for a while.” He shrugged. “I’ve been there. It was very clear last night that this was a one-off and I’m fine with that. I know you have plans for the next few years of your life. I’m just really happy to be back in it again. As a friend.” He picked up her plate and thrust it at her again. “Eat. Relax. Go see your mom. Tell her and your dad I said hi. I cooked some more brownies and made up some leftovers from last night’s dinner to take as well.”

Clem blinked. “You did?” God… this man. How did she get so lucky?

“Unless—” He quirked an eyebrow. “You want to psychoanalyze every single second? I can do that.”

Oh, dear god, no. Clem all but recoiled from the thought. Not least of all because if they picked over every kiss, touch, and caress from last night they might end up back in bed together and that would make it hard to sell the whole one-off thing.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “I’m good.”

Then she bit into the flaky pastry and forgot everything as it crumbled on her lips and flooded her tastebuds with salty, buttery flakiness. She shut her eyes to savor it and, for a moment, forgot where she was and who she was with and actually moaned, it was that good.

“This croissant is…” She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, at her mouth, where her tongue was busy licking off pastry flakes. “Incredible.”

His nostrils flared as his gaze tracked the flick of her tongue and Clem’s stomach clenched at the streak of undiluted hunger in his eyes before he turned abruptly away and fiddled with the coffee. “It should be. I’ve made enough of them over the last ten years.”

Breathing out slowly, Clem collected herself. It was only natural that they might still be a little caught up in their chemistry from last night, right? And a few days away at her mother’s bedside should definitely see to that. She cast around for something to start that separation now. “So… what’s on your agenda today?”

“I got a call from Edwin about an hour ago.” He turned back, passing over a cup brimming with milky coffee, handle first. She took it with her spare hand and watched as he settled his ass back against the counter, folding his arms again, the hunger in his gaze gone.

Like it had never been there.

“Oh?” Clem inhaled the rich aroma of the beans as she blew on the heavenly brew. Her love affair with coffee had started during many a late-night session cramming for exams in college and she’d been addicted ever since.

“He wants me to come and see him at the Graff. I think he might have another wedding cake for me.”

“Oh god.” She grimaced. “Sorry about that.” Although it had been inevitable that such a masterpiece would be noticed.

“It’s okay. It was good to do something creative again and it’ll give me a project while I look for a property with inn potential.”

“How’s that going?”

Clem realized these were the kind of questions she should have been asking him last night over dinner instead of unloading all her stuff on his shoulders. She’d really been all about herself last night and that didn’t sit well because Clem had always put others before herself. It was how she’d ended up going stagnate in Marietta—putting everyone else’s expectations of her ahead of her own desires and ambitions.

“I’m meeting with the Realtor this afternoon to look at some properties out of town.”

“Oh.” Clem’s eyebrows raised. “That’s exciting.”

“I’ve seen a couple already. They just haven’t quite been what I’m after.”

“What are you after, exactly?”

He smiled. “I’m not really sure. I guess I’ll just know it when I see it.”

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