Sweet Hearts Read Free Page B

about selling
them in the shop,” Sam said. “People got used to a pretty high standard when he
was there at Christmas. I’m afraid these will disappoint.”
    Kelly pursed her lips and nodded.
“You’re right. They’re almost there . . . but not quite.”
    Sam couldn’t take the chance of
losing customers because they thought the quality had gone downhill. It wasn’t
worth the risk. She stared at the rack of truffles she’d just finished.
    “They’d make nice favors for the
wedding,” Kelly suggested. “Or I could take some to the nursing home. The old
folks love their sweets.”
    Sam stared at her. Who is this
girl who’s always thinking of others? Ever since her experience with Beau’s
invalid mother she’d loved spending time with the elderly. Even if she had to
mush up the candy and spoon feed it, Sam knew her daughter would do so,
happily.
    Kelly went to the refrigerator
and pulled out the makings for a sandwich. It had become her routine a couple
nights a week, to eat something quick at home and then go spend the evening at
the nursing home reading stories and holding withered old hands. When Kelly
carried the sandwich into the living room to watch one of her reality shows
while she ate, Sam began the kitchen cleanup.
    She’d tried everything with this
chocolate venture, including handling the mystical carved wooden box—a gift
from a purported witch that seemed to give Sam special abilities. Although her
chocolate making had definitely improved over her early efforts, something was
still missing. She ran hot water into the sink, dunking her pans and bowls
beneath the sudsy surface, sending a silent plea out to the universe at large. What
will it take for me to get this chocolate-making right?
    A knock at the back door
disrupted her thoughts.
    “Hey beautiful,” Beau said,
stepping in and depositing a grocery bag on the counter. While he slipped his
jacket off and hung it on a hook near the door, Sam peeked inside. He’d brought
a roasted chicken, salads and rolls from the deli counter at the supermarket.
It smelled heavenly, the meaty scent a welcome break from the sugary smells
that surrounded her all day.
    They indulged in a lingering kiss
until Sam became aware of Kelly’s presence.
    “Sorry, you two,” she said, “but
I need to get to that door.” She picked up the small paper sack into which
she’d put some of the truffles, and pulled her hoodie from the wall hook. “Off
to see the oldsters. You guys behave while I’m gone.”
    “It’ll be nice when I have you
all to myself,” Beau said, watching Kelly get into her car and back out.
    “Sorry. I should give her a
little lecture about lecturing us,” Sam said.
    “Ah, it’s not that much longer.
She’s a cute kid, and she was so good with Mama.” His voice tightened.
    Sam turned to the cupboard to get
plates, giving him a moment as she bustled around with flatware and napkins.
    “You know . . . you can move into
my place any day now,” Beau said, coming up behind her as she pulled the food
cartons from the bag and set them on the kitchen table.
    She’d taken a few things out to
his big log ranch house, basically an overnight bag and couple of changes of
clothes, but the task of really moving there—packing up her kitchen stuff and
emptying the garage of more than thirty years clutter . . . the task seemed
monumental. Of course, she reminded herself that she didn’t really have to move
absolutely everything right away. Kelly would continue to live in Sam’s house.
She’d even talked about buying the little place, rather than having Sam sell it
to a stranger. So far, it was more speculation than a real plan, and since
their engagement at Christmas Sam had found herself with very few spare minutes
to think about it.
    Beau’s hands ran down her arms
and he paused, picking at something that was stuck to the sleeve of her baker’s
jacket.
    “Oh gosh, I didn’t even change—”
Sam reached for the dried gob of cake batter on