Page 61 of You Had Me at Chocolate

The food critic judge from Helena—a man called Charles—addressed the crowd at the foot of the courthouse steps. The towns’ category had already been announced and Marietta’s mayor had accepted the plaque in front of the cheering crowd of mostly Marietta locals. Now it was the individual category and Jude stood beside a woman who owned a bakery in Livingstone and a restaurateur from Bozeman.

“Go, Jude,” Vivian called, which was followed quickly by shouts of support from all around.

Sage, who was standing right beside Vivian, threw in her two cents. “You’ve got this in the bag, Jude!”

He grinned at them. Their amazing displays had played no small part in Marietta taking out the towns’ category. Viv had arranged hundreds of Delish’s signature golden wrapped chocolate bars into a magnificent Christmas tree and lit it up with what seemed like a thousand lights. And Sage had used Lego people and her fantastic specialized chocolates to create a replica Santa’s workshop.

But the well wishes were not all for him. There were also people from Livingstone and Bozeman and the other surrounding towns in the audience who were equally boisterous with their support.

Clementine was standing next to Edwin and, as his gaze met hers, she shot him the thumbs-up. She looked so damn cute, her hands clasped around a take-out cup of Delish hot chocolate, her chipmunk cheeks all rosy and that silly knit cap with the kitten ears pulled down low on her forehead containing all the springy wildness beneath.

He wanted to laugh out loud but hell if he didn’t also want to throw himself down on his knees in front of her and declare how much he loved her in front of the whole damn town. Given the very public rebuff he’d had last time he’d attempted something similar, Jude suppressed the urge.

Thankfully, after their night together, she’d accepted his suggestion they stick with being friends and they’d moved quickly past the next day awkwardness. It helped, he supposed that it hadn’t been their first rodeo but still, these past couple of weeks hadn’t been easy. Being so close, sharing so much with her in their cozy domestic setting—eating, chatting, watching the TV, sharing the minutiae of their day as snow fell outside and they folded those goddamn paper cranes—and not being free to touch and to hold and to kiss and to tell her how he felt?

That had been hard.

So many times, they’d been laughing over something and it had been on the tip of his tongue to tell her—to tell all. But the words had seized in his throat because as tortuous as it was to love her and keep it a secret, confession wasn’t in the cards.

He didn’t want to be that guy. The one that put himself and his needs and wants first. Especially when he knew Clementine had bigger dreams than Marietta.

“For their magnificent chocolate gingerbread village, it’s the Graff Hotel.”

The crowd went wild, all leaping up and down and hugging each other and Jude grinned as he accepted the congratulations of his fellow competitors and Charles who handed a large cup made from chocolate and wrapped in golden foil. He held it above his head good-naturedly much to the delight of the assembled, and then he and his fellow finalists, and Edwin and Charles, all posed for a picture snapped by a photographer from the local paper.

But throughout it all, he was really only conscious of one person—Clementine—beaming up at him, waiting patiently among the crowd at the bottom of the steps as they all surged forward to congratulate him. It took him almost ten minutes—ten long minutes—before he got to her and she didn’t disappoint, throwing herself at him enthusiastically.

“You did it, Jude,” she said, her voice muffled in his neck.

She pulled away and kissed him just as enthusiastically. Just a peck. A quick congratulatory press of her lips—that was all. But it spoke of a deeper level of intimacy between them. It was the kind of kiss lovers gave to one another in greeting. And it simultaneously clutched at his groin and squeezed warm fingers around his heart.

It was moments like this he actually looked forward to moving out on Monday, knowing he wouldn’t have to constantly battle these feelings.

There was a split second of awkwardness as she clearly realized what she’d done—kissed him on the mouth in front of everyone—their gazes not quite meeting, but then Edwin joined them for another round of congratulations and the moment passed.

“Thanks,” Jude said as Edwin shook his hand again. “I think I did Marietta proud.”

“Are you kidding?” Clementine grinned and it practically stole his breath. “Marietta’s going to adopt you.”

“If they don’t,” Edwin said, clapping him on the back, “I will.”

They spoke briefly about work in the morning before Edwin moved away and Jude turned his attention to Clementine who was smiling at him, the epitome of smugness. “I told you you’d win.”

The utter faith blazing from her amber eyes set the emotions in his chest ajumble and he pushed them determinedly aside. “You haven’t even seen it yet.” He’d completed the chocolate gingerbread village five days ago but Clementine had been holding out for the stroll to see it.

“I was waiting until it was award-winning.”

“Well—” He handed her the cup. “You were right.”

“I never doubted it.” She admired the gaudy trophy. “Okay, let’s go.” She handed him back the cup. “Take me to your village.”

“Yes ma’am.”

*

Clem smiled at the carolers serenading passersby just outside the grand entrance of the Graff. “Oh, Come All Ye Faithful” accompanied her and Jude into the foyer and a surge of town pride and Christmas joy mixed in Clem’s chest to put her in an oddly nostalgic mood.

So much so that she almost burst into tears when she saw Jude’s chocolate gingerbread village given pride of place in the middle of the gift shop. The Graff hosted a gingerbread competition every year, which were currently displayed in many of the shop windows around Marietta. A chocolate twist on that had been utterly inspired.

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