A Valentine's Wish (8 page)

I
t’d been a slow day so far at the Chocolate Gator. The few morning regulars hadn’t shown up, and Lori refused to think about why or wonder if it was her fault. At least they’d recovered from her mistake with the freezer—though a ton of supplies weren’t exactly necessary when there weren’t any customers to purchase them.

Maybe she should chalk it up to the chilly February air and leave it that. In the meantime, she’d work on some ideas of how to get business booming again—and fast, before Bella returned and wondered where her livelihood had gone.

Lori’s scrawled penmanship filled the paper with black ink.

• 1. New window display.
  
• 2. Gimmick for sales—maybe a buy two, get one free offer? * Ask Bella first.
  
• 3. Offer gift wrap for holidays or special occasions.
  

What else could she come up with? Lori tapped the pen against the counter. The customers that frequented the shop seemed relatively satisfied with her service and with the
products they were buying. But there had to be something she was missing. “Summer, what makes a store interesting to you?”

“Black lights.”

“I’m serious.”

Summer looked up from the table she was wiping down and smirked. “So am I.”

“Let me rephrase. What makes you want to visit a specific shop over and over?”

Summer’s hand on the rag stilled. “Hmm. Good deals. Good customer service.” She tilted her head to one side and grinned. “A cute salesclerk.”

“We have all that.”

“I’ve never seen a cute salesclerk around here.”

“Thanks a lot. I meant the other stuff.” Lori sighed and tapped harder with her pen. “I need something fresh.”

The kitchen door opened, and Monny breezed through with a tray of chocolate cream puffs. “What about a sale?”

“I considered a buy two, get one free offer.” Lori twisted on the stool to face Monny, proud of the way she didn’t feel her cheeks burning. She could finally look him in the eye and not mentally kick herself for her blunder last week.

He set the cream puffs on the counter and dusted his hands on his apron. “Bella has made offers like that before. She puts a sign outside. It usually works well.”

“Go for it.” Summer resumed her cleaning.

“I should probably ask first.”

“You’re the temporary manager. It’s your call, isn’t it?” Monny paused by the kitchen door.

“I’m not sure.” Lori worked her lower lip between her teeth. After the freezer incident, the day of lost profits and the baking disasters, she hated to assume anything.

“Come on, Lori. Be assertive.” Summer tossed the damp rag across the counter to her.

Lori caught it and wound the rag between her fingers. Maybe
she should make a list. Pros—she could avoid bothering Bella while the woman was caring for her family. Plus, a few extra ingredients spent at the gain of more business would probably put them ahead profitwise.

Cons—it could seem presumptuous to make this kind of decision without Bella. But what was the worst that could happen?

“Let’s do it!” Lori threw the rag back at Summer with a smile. “Monny, double your usual batch of chocolate crocodiles. We’ll put the sign out this afternoon and run the sale for the rest of the week. We’ll make it an early Valentine’s special. Summer, find that board Bella uses to advertise, and some colored chalk. We’ll make the advertisement now.” She plucked a cream puff from the tray on the counter and held it up in a toast. “Here’s to us!”

Lori took a big bite of the pastry as Monny and Summer hurried to follow orders. She might eat her words later, but for now, she’d focus on the cream puff.

Lori’s dark brown hair glimmered with gold highlights in the sun as she crouched on the sidewalk, scrawling on a chalkboard in big, swirling letters. Andy slowed his pace, not wanting to interrupt her until she finished.

Valentine’s Sale!
Chocolate Crocodiles—Buy 2, Get 1 Free
Limited Time Only!

She stepped back from the board, clearly admiring the advertisement written in hot-pink chalk.

Andy stopped a few feet away, hands in his pockets. “I’ll take a dozen.”

Lori whirled to face him, revealing a brush of chalk on her cheekbone where she’d swiped her hair off her face. “Oh, really?”

“That’d be, let’s see…six free chocolates?” He smiled.

“Doesn’t work that way.”

“Then you might want to add that to the fine print.”

“I only have the big chalk sticks.”

“Then it looks like you’re out six pieces of chocolate.”

Lori planted her hands on her hips, the chalk sticking out between her fingers. She was cute when frustrated, and probably didn’t even realize she was marking on her jeans pocket as she stood there pouting. “Have you always been so stubborn?”

Have you always been so adorable?
He just smiled, afraid to speak lest his thoughts jump out of his mouth.

“I guess I can make an exception for the boss’s nephew.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Mature. I think you’ve been hanging around the youth too much.”

“Says the pastor who started a whipped-cream fight after the service.” Lori grinned.

“Started
and
finished,” Andy corrected. “Besides, that was months ago.”

“Right, and you’ve grown up
so
much since then.” Lori swiped at his arm with the chalk, dusting the fine hairs pink.

“Hey, I can start a chalk war just as easily.” He reached for it, and she dodged out of his grasp, laughing, nearly tripping over the sign.

“You better not hurt my board!”

“It’s fine.” Andy straightened the sign to align with the shop window, then stepped back to view it fully. It would definitely catch attention with that hot-pink writing. “Why did Aunt Bella want to run a sale while she was gone?”

The teasing smile faded from Lori’s lips. “She didn’t. It was my idea.”

“Are profits down?”

“A little.” Her expression tightened, and so did Andy’s
stomach. She was on to him, had to be. It explained her sudden distance and guarded response every time he asked about the store. What would he do now? He couldn’t tell on his aunt and pass the blame. No, he’d just have to ease off a little, not check in so much. The shop would be fine—his friendship with Lori however, was growing questionable. Hopefully movie night this upcoming Friday would smooth the rough edges.

“I’m sure this sale will help. It’s a good plan.” Maybe a few compliments would bring the smile back to Lori’s face. If not, then the gift that was waiting in his car for the opportune moment surely would.

She relaxed, her eyes thoughtfully studying his. “Thanks.”

“Can you take a break for lunch?”

Lori opened her mouth, then paused. She looked over her shoulder at the store, then back to Andy. “Not really. I need to be around when this sale takes effect.”

His heart dipped. “Right.”

He wanted to hug her goodbye as usual, but knew better—not after such an obvious rejection. Did she really think a mob of chocolate consumers would be beating down the shop door in the next twenty minutes? Something was definitely up. Maybe she wanted to go to lunch with Monny instead.

Or maybe Lori had figured out the gifts were from him and didn’t want them to be. She had been so withdrawn these last few weeks; the timing seemed too close to be coincidental. They used to go to lunch together all the time, back before he realized what Lori actually meant to him. Could she see the difference in his eyes?

Andy’s head started to throb at all the
maybes
. He rubbed his hand through his hair in an attempt to shove back the frustration at Pastor Mike. If only the staff had left him alone about his love life, he’d still be happily ignorant of his heart’s gravitation toward Lori. Naïveté was definitely underrated. Now he felt like a teenager with a crush. Except this wasn’t a high
school fling. This was love. He swallowed hard. “I guess I’ll see you tonight at the youth service, then.”

“I might be late, but I’ll come as quickly as I can.” Lori’s lips turned up in a smile that didn’t quite register in her eyes. “See you there.” She lifted her hand in a wave before slipping back inside the store.

Andy slowly shuffled toward his car parked in a lot a block away, kicking at a pile of dead leaves in his path. If Pastor Mike could see how hard this whole courting thing really was, maybe he’d get the church staff to ease off the pressure. He needed a break.

He unlocked his car door and sank onto the worn upholstery. The wrapped present on the passenger seat beside him caught his eye and felt like a punch in the abdomen. Part of him wanted to rush back into the Chocolate Gator with the gift and confess everything. But the louder, wiser part of him knew after Lori’s behavior today, that would be the worst timing possible.

Andy tilted his head to rest against the back of the seat and closed his eyes, blocking the present from his view. He’d have to keep up the game awhile longer. Haley could deliver this one for him later this afternoon, and maybe after Lori saw the contents she’d be more open to him and his feelings.

There he went with the
maybes
again.

He started the car and eased out of the parking space, casting a long glance at the chocolate shop’s window as he passed. Lori stepped onto the sidewalk, sliding sunglasses on her face and hiking her purse on her shoulder before taking off down the street.

Had to stick around for the sale, huh? Andy pressed his lips together and steered the car toward the church, his mind spinning almost as fast as the tires.

And
maybe
he was just a glutton for punishment.

Lori rubbed her finger over the gift card and frowned. A pair of trendy high heels marched across the front of the white
plastic. It was hard to stay distant from her secret admirer when he just provided her with shopping money.

She had only been back from lunch for twenty minutes when an elderly woman brought the gift inside. The lady told Lori she was asked to deliver it anonymously, so her ruby-red lips were sealed. The twinkle in her eye hinted that was probably the most fun she’d seen in weeks, so Lori gave her a free crocodile for her trouble. The woman left happy, with chocolate crumbs stuck on her glossy lips, while Lori remained puzzled over the mysterious appearance of yet another present.

“This guy is good.” Summer leaned against the counter on the opposite side from Lori and craned her head to see the gift card. “He must really know you well.”

“It would seem that way.” Which made it all the more frustrating not to know his identity. Lori tapped the card with her fingernail. “No signature, again.”

“Not surprising. Don’t worry, we’ll figure out who it is sooner or later.” Summer stretched, then paused, her arms still high in the air. “Wait a minute. What about that guy who you were talking to outside earlier?”

“Andy?” Lori snorted. “He’s the youth pastor at my church.”

Summer’s arms lowered to her sides. “Why wouldn’t it be him? It seems like he’s always in the shop.”

“We’re just friends, and I help him with the youth group. He would never think of me that way.” After years of hanging out and working together, that much was painfully obvious. Lori’s eyes narrowed. “Besides, he’s just here to check up on me for his aunt.”

“He’s Bella’s nephew? Wow, small world.” Summer adjusted one of the coils of spiked hair on her head and grinned. “He’s cute, though.”

Yes, he was. But that wasn’t the point. Lori tucked the gift card in her purse under the counter. “I think we should get back to work.”

“Right, because business is just booming.” Summer rolled her eyes at the empty shop. “I think I hit a nerve, Boss.”

“Keep going and you might.” The last thing Lori needed to think about right now was Andy and the frustration that boiled over every time he poked around the store. Why couldn’t he just come visit her because he wanted to see her? Because he missed her? He had to be spying for his aunt. Every time he showed up, he was asking about business. That was exactly the reason why she hadn’t felt up to lunch with him earlier, and the reason she was already dreading movie night. She hated turning Andy down for lunch—especially since he usually paid—but today she wasn’t up for defending the store or her methods of managing.

And she really didn’t want Andy reporting back to Bella about that impromptu sale. After the freezer fiasco, Lori wondered how many more strikes she’d get. Hopefully the rules of baseball didn’t apply to shop managing. At this rate, she’d blow through three strikes by next week.

Summer straightened from her slump against the counter, jerking Lori from her thoughts. “So, did you talk to Andy yet about my helping with the youth retreat?”

Lori nodded. “Yes, and he wants to speak with you about it on Sunday.”

“Sounds good.” Summer hesitated. “Are you sure your church won’t mind—” she gestured toward her dark clothes and tattoos “—me?”

“You’ll fit right in with the younger crowd.”

“Right, because you’re so ancient and all.” Summer crinkled her nose at Lori.

“You know what I mean.” Lori laughed. “Why don’t you pick me up at nine o’clock?”

“Nine o’clock?” Summer moaned. “I always sleep until at least ten on Sundays. My church meets on Saturday nights.”

“Exactly my point. If you’re my ride, you have more moti
vation to get up.” Lori reached under the counter and handed a crocodile to her. “Hush, and eat this.”

“We’re going to eat all our profits from the sale.” Summer’s protest didn’t stop her from shoving the chocolate in her mouth.

Lori’s gaze roved over the shop, taking in the sparkling clean floors, the perfectly arranged candy displays, the chairs tucked neatly under the shiny tables—and the obvious lack of patrons. She sighed. “What profits?”

“T
his is romantic-comedy night, isn’t it?” Andy faked a groan as he collapsed against Lori’s couch pillows. “I’d blocked it out.” The truth was, he’d gladly sit with Lori and watch any movie she wanted. But he couldn’t let her know that or they’d be drowning in chick flicks. Carter would never forgive him.

“That’s right. Last month was action. The month before that was foreign. And November was drama.” Lori popped a DVD into the player and grinned. “Get ready to cry.”

“I don’t cry at chick movies.”

Lori quirked an eyebrow.

Andy cleared his throat. “That was
one
time. Even Carter teared up that night.”

“Whatever.” Lori’s knowing grin made Andy’s shoulders relax. Despite the awkwardness of the past few days, their friendship seemed to be back to normal—at least for tonight. He’d decided not to ask Lori about her lunchtime rejection from Wednesday. So far they’d avoided all talk about the Chocolate Gator, which seemed to be the reason for the unofficial truce. He’d take normal with Lori over awkward any day, even if he did have to be careful what he said—and watch a chick flick.

Andy moved a pillow aside as Lori sank onto the sofa, glad
she was sitting only one cushion away instead of across the room in the armchair. Probably because this was the best spot for seeing the TV, but a guy could hope, right?

“Whoops, forgot the popcorn.” Lori started to stand, but Andy hopped up first.

“I’ll get it.” He grabbed the bowl from the counter, snagged a handful of napkins from the holder and set it on the coffee table in front of them. He sat back down, an inch closer than last time. Maybe if Lori forgot something else, he could eliminate that cushion distance between them once and for all. “Did you remember the chocolate?” He caught himself at Lori’s look. “I know, I know, stupid question.”

Lori reached for a pink bag on the end table. “Of course I remembered it. I brought a mixture from the store. And I still have some leftover Hershey’s Kisses from my secret admirer.”

Andy’s heart stilled, then restarted with a heavy thud. “Still no clue who this mystery guy is?” He really hoped his voice sounded more natural to Lori than it did to his own ears. He cleared his throat.

Lori shrugged. “No, but I keep getting gifts.” She grinned. “I figure at some point he’ll get tired of spending money without credit for it.”

“Probably.” Andy thought of his thinning wallet. Good point. But he’d go into debt before confronting Lori with the truth too soon.

Lori aimed the remote at the DVD player and hit Play. “No crying, now.”

Andy opened his mouth to argue, then shut it with a smile as Lori nestled against the cushions in her usual slumped position. They’d done movie nights with Carter and Gracie for coming on a year now, and each month it was always the same. Shoes off, legs tucked underneath her, head resting against the back of the couch. A few months ago, Lori had fallen asleep that way, and her head had drooped onto Andy’s shoulder.

Maybe she’d be sleepy again tonight.

The opening credits rolled on the TV, and Andy tried to keep his mind on the movie. He should pay attention in case Lori wanted to discuss the film afterward. He adjusted his position on the couch and tugged a pillow into his lap, trying to get comfortable. On the screen, a bride sang a quirky love song, surrounded by her gushing attendants. His eyebrow twitched.

On second thought, it might be more productive to think about Lori, after all.

If Andy sat any closer, he’d be in the popcorn bowl. Lori swallowed, her dry throat having nothing to do with the salty snack. During the course of the movie, Andy had edged closer and closer until Lori wondered if it might be on purpose. But why would he do that? They’d never sat this close before—so close she could smell the fresh scent of laundry detergent on his shirt and feel the brush of fabric from his long sleeves as he reached for more popcorn.

Maybe she was just imagining his proximity because of her growing feelings. She’d never reacted this strongly to Andy’s presence, but then again, usually movie night included Carter and Gracie. Between Carter and Andy’s overly dramatic replaying of each scene, and Gracie’s laughing protests, there had never been a chance for awkward tension.

The romantic comedy playing on the TV certainly didn’t help Lori’s raging emotions. If anything, it just made her want to cry. She could easily empathize with the redhead on the screen desperately trying to win her man, her best friend whom she’d never noticed until it was too late.

Unfortunately, Lori had seen this movie before, and she knew the ending.

She reached for another handful of popcorn at the same time Andy did, and their fingers brushed. An electric spark snapped, and Lori jerked, not sure if it was real or in her mind.
Beside her, Andy edged away a few inches, and she knew he felt it, too.

Felt it, and was putting distance between them.

She sipped from her can of soda, hoping to wash down the lump of disappointment in her throat. Whom she was kidding? Andy probably just realized how far he’d slumped over. He hadn’t been close to her on purpose.

A few minutes later, the movie ended, bittersweet but leaving hope for the main character. Lori stood and pushed the stop button on the remote control, feeling sadder than she should after one of her favorite flicks. Unsure what to say to break the post-movie silence, she turned to pick up the popcorn bowl—just as Andy threw up his arms in a stretch. The bowl went flying and landed upside down on the floor, scattering bits of buttered kernels and husks on the carpet.

“My bad.” Andy leaned down from the couch to grab it just as Lori squatted to do the same. Their heads collided with a thump, the collision knocking Andy off balance. He rolled off the couch and landed beside her.

“Are you okay?” they asked at the same time.

“I’m fine.” Andy rubbed his forehead, then brushed his fingers against the sore spot on Lori’s head. His featherlight touch sent shivers skating down her spine. “Are you?”

“Y-yes.” She thought so, anyway. What was the question again? Staring into his eyes, Lori’s frustrations about work and Andy’s spy status melted away like hot fudge, and she forgot to breathe.

His touch gentled until he slowly slid his hand away from her face. They remained kneeling on the floor by the couch, side by side, eyes locked, not touching. But Lori felt his presence like a dozen close hugs. Was he going to kiss her? She leaned forward when Andy did, but after an achingly long moment, he sucked in his breath and stood.

Lori felt the rejection to her core, and she fumbled to stand.
Andy offered his hand to help, but the pain of tears pricking her eyes blended with the stabbing of her pride, and Lori struggled upright on her own.

Andy swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He looked panicked, like he couldn’t wait to leave. And why should he stay? The movie was over, and so was any chance of something developing between them. First the rejection of him moving away on the couch, then Lori’s obvious misinterpretation of his actions. How stupid she must have looked, leaning in like that for nothing. Her chest burned under her sweatshirt, and she moved to eject the movie from the player before she embarrassed herself further.

“Uh, Lori, I…”

She widened her eyes to stop the tears threatening to pour and turned with a forced smile. “Want some chocolate to take home? I can grab a plastic baggie.” She headed for the kitchen.

Andy stopped her with one arm, and she quickly turned in the other direction. “No, that’s okay. Lori, seriously, I—”

“Wow, it’s getting late. That was a long movie.” Lori tapped her watch-free wrist, desperate to keep her voice natural. She couldn’t let him know how he’d affected her, or she’d never be able to talk to him again. She couldn’t lose their friendship, too. “I better get to bed. See you Sunday?” She ushered Andy toward the door, unsure how much longer she could keep the tears at bay.

Andy opened the front door, and a gust of cool night wind stung Lori’s cheeks. She crossed her arms over her chest, around her heart, and waited, praying he’d leave without trying to explain his rejection.

“See you Sunday.” Andy’s heavy tone hinted that he wanted to say more, but Lori kept her eyes averted and that fake smile tight against her face.

“Have a good night.”

Andy disappeared down the walk toward his car, and Lori
shut the door with a snap. Eyes closed, she slid against the door to a sitting position, resting her head against the hard wood. She shouldn’t be surprised. Andy had never thought of her as anything more than a friend. But for that split second, kneeling beside him by the couch, surrounded by popcorn and pulsing hearts, her hopes had risen and whispered a possibility.

A possibility that continued to remain hopelessly, helplessly, impossible.

The organ music reached a closing crescendo, and Andy rose from the padded pew, tucking his Bible under his arm. Another Sunday come and gone, another lonely Sunday afternoon stretching long before him—and another Sunday of Lori not sitting with him at the service. Though after Friday night’s awkwardness, he wasn’t surprised Lori had chosen to sit elsewhere.

He couldn’t believe he’d almost kissed her like that. How reckless could he be? Here he was trying to hide his identity as secret admirer, and he’d almost planted a big one on her at the first opportunity. She wasn’t ready for the truth about his feelings yet, especially not after her panicked reaction to that near kiss. He apparently still had a lot of work to do to show her he was the man for her.

Andy turned to search the back rows of the church. Surely she was here somewhere. Wasn’t she supposed to bring a friend to meet him about volunteering with the youth group? He almost hoped Lori hadn’t made it, because then it wouldn’t mean she was avoiding him—it would just mean she’d slept in or didn’t feel good.

He treaded dejectedly behind the slow gait of the elderly gentleman heading down the aisle. He hoped to take Lori and her friend to lunch to discuss the retreat, but it looked like he would be eating alone again today.

“Andy! Andy, dear!” a voice warbled to his right. He turned to see Widow Spencer hobbling down the aisle toward him,
pushing against the crowd like a salmon swimming upstream. Despite her frailty, she was making quick progress.

He was trapped.

Andy swallowed the automatic protest rising in his throat. Maybe she would say something other than how loud the youth service was every Wednesday. He braced himself for the attack as the widow moved to stand practically under his nose.

“You were alone again this morning. I take it you’re still single?”

“Nothing changed since last week, ma’am.” Andy forced his lips into a smile.

“Wonderful! Then you’ll have no problem taking my great-granddaughter to dinner.”

Not another one. First Pastor Mike, now the Widow Spencer. Apparently everyone in the church wanted him married off, ASAP. Andy mentally groaned but checked the sound before it could pop from his mouth. “I’m sure your great-granddaughter is lovely, Ms. Spencer. But I’m not really looking to date anyone right now.”

He briefly closed his eyes, wishing he could afford to count to ten and ease away from his frustration before speaking. But that’d be too obvious to the woman. She’d been a member of the church forever—some said since the first service ever held—and was not someone he needed to offend.

He’d have to settle for squeezing his words out through clenched teeth instead.

“That’s not what I hear from the pastor.” Ms. Spencer’s watery eyes shimmered behind her glasses, and she wagged a bony finger in Andy’s face. “Eva is new to town. You two will really hit it off.”

“But…”

“Then it’s settled. Pick her up tomorrow night at six o’clock. Here’s her address.” She handed him a small sheet of paper.

“Ms. Spencer, I—”

“Don’t be late. And wear green. It brings out your eyes.” The elderly woman clutched her Bible to her chest and ambled away on her cane before Andy could speak another word.

Great
. A blind date with Eva—whoever she was. What kind of woman required her grandmother to set her up on a date, and with barely a day’s notice? Andy pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and blew out his breath.
One, two, three…

“Andy, there you are!”

He opened his eyes in time to see Mr. Duvall, one of the deacons on staff, clap him on the shoulder. His firm grip lingered, and Andy awkwardly patted his back in return. “Good morning, Mr. Duvall.”

“Excellent service, don’t you think?”

“I agree.”

“Especially the sermon.” Mr. Duvall leaned forward, his eyes squinty with meaning. “Husbands loving their wives, wives honoring their husbands.”

Andy gulped and hoped the older man didn’t notice. “It was a good topic.”

“Timely, eh?”

Andy’s mouth opened, then shut. He was afraid to speak lest he lose it completely and run from the church with his arms thrown protectively over his head. He nodded instead.

“I thought so.” Mr. Duvall laughed and slung his arm around Andy, shaking him slightly. “I thought so! I knew you had something up your sleeve.”

“My sleeve? What?” Andy choked.

Mr. Duvall released his hold and stepped back. “No use denying it, son. I heard every word Widow Spencer said. I know you’re going out with Eva tomorrow night. I knew you had your eye on someone!”

Someone whom he’d never actually seen before. Andy couldn’t hold back the groan that burst from his lips. “Mr. Duvall, I really don’t—”

“I was heading this way to ask about setting you up with my daughter.”

Andy made a quick decision. One blind date was definitely more tolerable than two. “Right, well, too late, I suppose.”

“Yes, too bad. But Eva’s a nice girl. You kids have fun.” Mr. Duvall winked before slipping back into the thick crowd still exiting the church building.

The parishioners heading toward the double doors and talking amongst themselves about lunch plans suddenly made him paranoid. How many more were plotting love matches for him? Who else had a granddaughter or niece that needed a date? Andy wanted to run as fast as the plush green carpet under his feet would allow but had the sinking feeling that would just draw more attention to himself. If he was about ten years younger, he’d slip belly-down under the pew like he did back when he was a kid, playing hide-and-seek with his Sunday school friends. Except this time he didn’t want anyone to find him.