Page 68 of You Had Me at Chocolate

And that was how she felt about Jude. “I love you, Jude and I’m never letting you go.”

He slid a hand either side of her face, looking at her like she was the one and nothing else mattered. Like she was all he’d ever need. “I love you, Clementine and I’m never letting you go.”

Then he kissed her, deep and slow and if she hadn’t understood the depth of his feelings already, she did now, his kiss a pledge, leaving no room for doubt. And she returned the favor, giving him her pledge in the most primal of ways. When they finally pulled apart, they were panting hard, their foreheads pressing together as they caught their breath.

“So,” Clem said easing away from him when she was in control enough to speak and looking around. “This is it, huh? The one?”

“Yup. Can’t you feel it too?”

She lifted her hand to the soft bristles covering his jaw. “I can.” She glanced out the window at the orchard and saw all the cobbler Jude could make. “What are you going to call it?” she asked returning her attention to him.

“I’ve been thinking about stuff that has significance from my childhood, maybe to do with the inn we stayed at during my dad’s bird-watching trips. Or from camp?”

A sudden thought pinged into Clem’s mind. She unzipped her jacket and put her hand into her hoodie pocket and pulled out the origami she’d folded in the car and handed it over. “How about the Paper Crane?”

He took it from her fingers, turning it over and over, his smile growing bigger and bigger. “Yes.” He glanced at her. “I love it. And I love you.” He kissed her then stealing her breath. “It’s perfect.”

She smiled, the room spinning a little. “This is number one thousand,” she said retrieving the crane to admire her handiwork. “You get to make a wish now and it’ll come true.”

Slowly, he shook his head. “I don’t need it. I have everything I want right here.”

And, as he kissed her again, dipping her in his arms, Clementine could not have agreed more.

Epilogue

Eighteen months later…

Clem couldn’t believe how fast the months had flown as she stood in the beautifully refurbished Paper Crane which had opened for business six months ago. Low murmurs from the gathered crowd rose up to the high ceiling and floated in from the overflow of people who had spilled out onto the back porch through the open French doors.

She stood side by side with Jude, his arm around her waist, in the central living room between two tables. One held an array of gourmet delights—including apple cobbler—all cooked by Jude and waiting to be consumed, the other boasted artfully arranged piles of his new cookbook—You Had Me at Chocolate.

Jude had accomplished a lot in such a short period of time and Clem was so proud. So, also had she, working in New York for nine months last year first for the Met on a short-term contract followed by six months with another art dealer friend of Eliza’s on the provenance of some eighteenth-century paintings.

Then, as the inn renovation was in full swing and Jude had started work on the cookbook she had joined him as his principle researcher—paid by the publishing company. Clem had absolutely adored the experience and his publisher had been so impressed with her meticulous work that they’d offered her as much freelance work as she wanted on a variety of different projects.

Life was freaking great!

Gently, she tapped a knife against the side of her champagne glass, the tinking noise calling everyone to order. “Thank you all for coming here today,” Clem said, addressing what felt like half of Marietta. “We’ll be in New York tomorrow night celebrating the official launch of Jude’s cookbook and then away on a two-month book tour through America, Europe, and Asia.”

She was still pinching herself over that and so thankful that Jude had been true to his word about employing a manager. Julieann Lindsay had been an absolute godsend and she winked at Clem from the crowd.

“But,” she continued, “both he and I wanted to celebrate here with all our friends from Marietta first.”

The clapping and cheering became almost deafening then and she paused, grinning at the spectacle. Clem’s proud parents beamed at her. Her mom was almost fully recovered from her stroke. There was some residual weakness in her left leg but it caused only minimal disruption to her mobility.

She only occasionally mentioned grandbabies.

Jude’s parents were also here and just as obviously proud of their son’s accomplishments. His father had been super thrilled over Jude’s choice of name for the inn.

“I think it’s fair to say that in the short eighteen months Jude has been a part of Marietta life, he has made quite a splash. From a rash public marriage proposal—” Laughter and some heckling followed and Clem grinned. “To a quickie wedding cake people are still talking about.”

From somewhere outside Tamsin called, “Best damn cake ever,” and there was more laughter.

“To wowing anyone who’s ever eaten dessert at the Graff.”

“Best damn restaurant ever,” Edwin said, mimicking Tamsin to further hilarity.

“To the opening of this amazing inn and now this—” Clem reached over and plucked a book off the pile, holding it up.

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