Pastor Mike’s talk on marriage must have put crazy thoughts in Andy’s mind.

“Earth to Andy.” Lori waved a hand in front of his face.

He leaned back in his chair, away from her teasing and the suddenly overpowering scent of her fruity perfume. Combined with the aroma hovering in the shop, she smelled like a chocolate-covered strawberry. What was wrong with him?

This was Lori, the girl who passed hastily scribbled notes to him during church with smiley faces, asking where they were going for lunch. The girl who ganged up with his youth group to spray him with silly string one summer morning on his way into the office. The girl who knew most of his secrets, brought him back to reality when he got prideful, and encouraged him when he felt like a failure.

The girl who’d been so close to his side for so many years that he’d failed to see what was directly in front of him.

BETSY ST. AMANT

loves polka-dot shoes, chocolate and sharing the good news of God’s grace through her novels. She has a bachelor’s degree in Christian communications from Louisiana Baptist University and is actively pursuing a career in inspirational writing. Betsy resides in northern Louisiana with her husband and daughter and enjoys reading, kickboxing and spending quality time with her family.

A Valentine’s Wish
Betsy St. Amant

www.millsandboon.co.uk

“O taste and see that the Lord is good.”

—Psalms 34:8

To my husband, Brandon—you’ll always be my

Valentine. And most importantly, to Jesus Christ,

the true lover of our souls—thank you for the gift.

Acknowledgments

Every author needs a pack of personal superheroes, and my bunch is the best! Special thanks to super agent Tamela Hancock Murray, super editor Emily Rodmell, and super crit bud Georgiana Daniels. Also, thanks to Lori Chally for letting me borrow your first name, your love for shoes and your penchant for chocolate for the heroine in this story! Love you, sister!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Unemployed. Single. And out of brownie mix.

Lori Perkins tapped her nails against the open pantry door. Canned vegetables and peanut butter crackers were nowhere near sufficient for this kind of low. She rested her forehead against the frame and blew a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. It really wasn’t her fault—well, maybe two of the three problems were. She probably shouldn’t have quit her job at the aquarium gift shop before the administrative position across town was a done deal, and she definitely should have gone to the grocery store before her chocolate stash ran out. But her single status was most certainly not of her own choosing. Add the fact that Valentine’s Day was mere weeks away, and it became official. She was broke, hungry and destined to be alone.

The cordless phone on the counter jangled a shrill ring, and Lori snatched it up while peering one more time at the contents of her bottom shelf. “Hello?”

“Lori? I can barely hear you. Are you in a tunnel?” It was her friend Andy Stewart, the youth pastor at her church, L’Eglise de Grace.

She stretched one arm toward the back of the shelf. “No. The pantry.”

“Searching for chocolate, I assume.”

“Funny.” So what if she’d become a little predictable over the years? Lori fumbled around a jar of peanut butter and felt a crinkly wrapper. Maybe a forgotten candy bar? No, just another package of crackers. She let out a huff. Was a little chocolate too much to ask for a girl having one of the worst days of her life?

“Are you all right? I can call back.”

Lori shut the pantry door with a loud click and rested her back against the wooden panels. “I need chocolate.”

“You’re out? How is that possible?”

“Gracie helped me finish the last of my emergency stash.”

“And she didn’t refill?”

“There wasn’t time before the wedding.” She supposed Gracie had more important things on her mind at the time, like planning a honeymoon. Excited as she was for her friend’s new life, Lori couldn’t help the flicker of jealousy in her stomach. Happily-ever-after endings apparently weren’t meant for everyone—her ex, Jason, had proven that point well enough.

She slammed the brakes on her runaway train of negative thoughts. “Look, is there a point to this conversation, or can I finish my desperate search for relief now?”

“Ouch. Bad day?”

“Did you not hear me say I’m out of chocolate?” Men. The cute ones cheated, and the funny ones were dense. Take Andy, for example. They’d been practically best friends for how long now—two years? Three? And he’d never once considered Lori as anything more.

Though it was probably for the best. If bitter thoughts of Jason still crept in her subconscious, she wasn’t ready for more. The need for chocolate intensified, and Lori squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe if she pretended hard enough she could—

Andy cleared his throat. “How about I bring over some chocolate doughnuts? I have something I need to talk to you about.”

Lori stopped the no from automatically rolling off her tongue. She preferred to indulge in her chocolate bad moods by herself, but without the chocolate, the bad-mood part sounded pretty lonely. “Fine. See you in twenty.”

“You’re late.” Lori snatched the box of doughnuts from Andy’s hands and left him to shut the front door of her town house. Hopefully, the smile she flashed softened her short words. She didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but she had yet to consume any chocolate. She’d be nice after the sugar melted in her system.

Lori ripped two napkins free from the stand and tossed one in Andy’s general direction as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “Thanks, by the way.” She ripped open the box and inhaled the warm chocolate scent. Finally.

“I only brought a dozen. Hope that’s enough.” Andy’s cheeky grin didn’t even bother Lori as the sugar dissolved on her tongue. Bliss. She reached for a second.

“You know, some people might call this constant craving of yours an addiction.” He plucked a pastry from the box and tore it in half before stuffing one piece in his mouth. Chocolate smeared down the side of his clean-shaven jaw.

“You tell me this like I’m supposed to care.” She grinned back and licked her fingers, deciding not to tell him about the mess on his face. Call it revenge for that time she volunteered at the youth service and unknowingly wore a dot of whipped cream on the end of her nose for two hours.

Andy snorted and tossed a swoop of blond hair out of his eyes. “It’s a miracle you don’t weigh a ton. Even my youth group doesn’t eat like this.”

Lori patted her flat stomach. “Good genes. Now, did you come here to discuss my appetite, or was there something else?” She went for another doughnut, dodging Andy’s attempt to swat her hand. Forget endorphins from exercise. This was much easier.

Andy swiped his face with his napkin before crumpling it into a ball. “I have a question for you, and ironically, it involves chocolate.”

“Mmm, go on.” At this rate Lori could almost forget her bad day. Should she go for a fourth? Her stomach rolled a negative answer, and she quickly tucked the lid back into the corners of the box. Breakfast for tomorrow—hopefully Andy didn’t think he was taking any of these babies home with him.

Andy leaned forward and rested his elbows on the counter. “You remember my aunt Bella?”

“Of course. She owns that chocolate shop in the French Quarter.” Lori hopped onto the bar stool next to Andy. “I’m in there every time I have enough spare change for a chocolate crocodile. Those things are delicious.” Though due to her current unemployed status, spare change might soon be a thing of the past. She sobered.

“Right. Well, she’s had a family emergency. Her sister in Shreveport needs around-the-clock care for a while. She has to leave the store with someone temporarily, and I thought of you when she asked if anyone in the church needed a job.”

Lori raised an eyebrow. “Why me?”

Andy ticked the reasons off on his fingers. “You ran the gift shop at the aquarium for years. You have an associate’s degree in business. And you’re currently unemployed, unless something has changed since you told me yesterday. Besides, she’s got a college student working part-time, so you wouldn’t be thrown in there alone.”

Lori nibbled her bottom lip, tasting the leftover remains of doughnut. Working in a chocolate boutique. It did sound perfect for her—but would her fast metabolism hold up to that much temptation? She squinted. Maybe if she limited herself to one piece a day…

“Lori? Are you still with me, or have you slipped into a doughnut-induced coma?” Andy waved his hand in front of her face.

She slapped his hand away. “I’m debating.”

“Another pro/con list?”

“No, I gave those up after my list suggested it’d be smart to go jogging after eating a double cheeseburger.” For now, anyway. She’d never actually be able to give up her beloved lists.

Andy winced. “Sorry I asked. So?”

So. Working around that rich, tantalizing aroma all day, every day. Bringing joy to people’s faces with bonbons and caramel creams and chocolate-dipped marshmallows…and better yet, distracting herself from the fact she hadn’t had a date in over a year.

Lori smiled. “Count me in.”

“A pie in the face is only funny on TV, Jeremy. Not during church.” Andy tried to keep a straight face as he studied the cream-covered teenage duo in front of him. Tufts of meringue rose from the top of the football player’s dark hair and peaked beside his ears. “In my opinion, you sort of had the payback coming.”

“Ha!” Haley, Jeremy’s off-again, on-again girlfriend, stuck out her tongue. Strawberry-pie filling smeared down the side of her cheek, and one hip remained cocked, a sure sign the little spitfire was mad. She tossed her pastry-streaked braids over her shoulder. “I told you he wouldn’t get me in trouble.”

“On the contrary.” Andy struggled to keep his lips from turning up. He couldn’t laugh in front of them. Two of his favorite youth-group members—but also the two responsible for those silver hairs he found in his sideburns last week. He cleared his throat. “You’re both cleaning up the kitchen in the gym from this little war, and you’re on door-greeting duty for three weeks.”

Relief etched across Jeremy’s tanned features as he relaxed against the door frame. “That seems fair.”

“Did I mention you’re also going to bring dessert to next Wednesday night’s youth service?”

Jeremy’s mouth opened.

“Since this pie was sacrificed on the altar of fun and games, it only seems fair.” Andy crossed his arms over his chest, daring him to argue.

Haley laughed and pointed at Jeremy. “You have to—”

“I meant both of you.”

Her arm fell to her side, and she glared.

“I want it homemade. Together.” That would teach them to get along. “And while you’re at it, why not make it red and white to celebrate the upcoming holiday?” He bit back another smile. Maybe frosting hearts on a few cupcakes would get the two of them back in their disgustingly lovey-dovey yet non-food-throwing stage in time for Valentine’s Day. He definitely didn’t want to deal with two heartbroken teenagers.

Jeremy’s eyes widened with panic. A frown dimpled Haley’s forehead. “Homemade? We can’t—”

“Dishrags are in the drawer beside the fridge. Better get to cleaning.” Andy sat in his chair, ducking his head and dismissing them as he pretended to shuffle through the youth calendar on his desk. He pursed his lips. If they didn’t leave now—

Footsteps sounded down the hall, Haley’s angry mutterings at Jeremy drifting in their wake. Andy palmed his hand over his mouth and finally released his laugh. What a couple. If those two made it down the aisle one day, he could only imagine the cake-feeding moment at the wedding reception.

Too bad Lori didn’t get to see their argument. Scratch that—she’d probably have started the food fight. But she’d left early from the youth service, abandoning her usual after-church chaperoning duty to meet Aunt Bella for a job interview.

Andy leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking in protest, and crossed his arms behind his head. Lori should be an easy hire—she’d be great at the position, and Aunt Bella was in a hurry to head north to her family. It seemed like a good match. Hopefully he’d know soon.

A knock sounded on his open office door. Senior Pastor Mike Kinsey held up one hand in a wave. “Andy. I’m glad you’re still here.”

Andy quickly stood. “Come on in, Pastor.” He motioned toward the empty chair across his desk. “Have a seat.”

“Those two…” Mike gestured toward the direction Haley and Jeremy had gone and shook his head with a slight smile. “They must keep you busy.”

“They still arguing out there?”

“Something about cakes versus brownies.” Mike sat.

Andy settled into his chair. “It’s a long, messy story.”

“I can imagine.” The smile slowly faded from Mike’s face, and his expression sobered. “Listen, Andy. There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

“That serious?”

Mike shrugged, but the crease between his brows gave him away.

Andy drew a steadying breath. Maybe one of the youth had gotten into some minor trouble. Or maybe the pastor was discouraged about the youth group’s sudden drop in attendance these past few weeks. One solemn conversation didn’t necessarily mean his job was on the line. He flexed his fingers in his lap.

“I take it you heard about the youth minister who was fired last week?”

Andy nodded. The incident had been on the news for days. A youth pastor at a church across town had been arrested for inappropriate conduct with a minor—one of his own youth-group members. The ordeal had made Andy sick.

“It’s created talk in our church.”

Andy raised one eyebrow. “Talk?”

“There’s no easy way to say this.” Mike tugged at his tie. The fluorescent light above their heads buzzed, nearly deafening in the sudden silence. Andy’s fingers found a pencil on his desktop, and he gripped it hard. Say it, just say it.

“Some of the parents of our youth have made comments about your single status.” Mike released his tie, and his hands fell limply to his lap.

“Comments?”

“They feel it creates a bad image. That you’d be a better minister if you were, well…married.”

“Married?” he couldn’t stop parroting. His own church doubted his integrity? The room darkened around the edges, and he sucked in a tight breath. “That’s…Sir, I—”

“It sounds harsher than they mean it. They just want to protect you.”

Andy’s throat constricted. “And their children.”

Mike’s shoulders drooped. “That, too.”

“They don’t trust me?” His stomach felt like he’d swallowed the mirrored paperweight on his desk.

“You’ve proven yourself to their kids over and over. They’re just paranoid right now. That scandal really stirred everyone up.”

Apparently. Andy pulled one arm across his chest in a stretch and tried to ignore the way the room closed in like a claustrophobic’s worst nightmare. Marriage. Like it was that easy to find the perfect woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

His eyes drifted to the framed photo on his desk, taken last summer during youth camp in Baton Rouge. Lori stood front and center next to his gang of miscreants, all wearing big smiles and matching yellow tees. His eyes lingered on Lori’s image, then quickly darted back to Mike.

“With all due respect, sir, doesn’t the congregation realize that if it were so easy, I’d be married by now? It’s not like I particularly enjoy going home every night to hot dogs and reality TV reruns.”

“I can imagine. However…” Mike shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Andy’s stomach rolled again. Something was up. He braced his elbows against the edge of the desk. “What are you really saying, Pastor?”

Mike twisted his gold wedding band around on his finger. “That the church board would like for you to get serious about finding a wife.” He cleared his throat, then met Andy’s gaze. “The sooner the better.”

Chapter Two

“What have I gotten myself into?” The whispered words drifted toward the pink-painted ceiling, riding the wake of a delicious chocolate aroma. Lori planted her hands on the glass display counter and eyed the cozy boutique. Black iron tables for two snuggled in various corners of the shop, inviting patrons to linger over their coffee and chocolate. Fresh roses offered a splash of pink in the center of each table, and the black-and-white tiled floor appeared freshly scrubbed. Bella had left the Chocolate Gator in pristine condition—Lori hoped she’d be able to return it in the same shape after nearly two months.

Nice as the New Orleans native was, Lori couldn’t help but wonder if Andy’s aunt Bella was slightly off her rocker. In her mid-fifties, she practically oozed grace and charm with a Southern flair—just like her boutique. But trusting a near stranger with her business, on the sole recommendation of her only nephew, seemed a bit crazy. Sure, there was a chef and a college student working part-time at the register a few days a week, and yes, Lori had often chatted with Bella while buying those signature chocolate crocodiles, but was that enough to merit such responsibility?

Lori strode to the front door and flipped the white cardboard sign to read Open. She shouldn’t complain. Less than a week ago she didn’t have a job, and now she was running one of the trendiest boutiques in New Orleans—not to mention total access to those yummy little milk chocolate and caramel crocodiles. She sneaked a glance at the chocolates arranged on doilies in the display case. Even with her discount, she just might end up eating her paycheck. Literally.

The swinging kitchen door splayed open, nearly banging into the wall behind the register. Lori jumped as a tall, olive-skinned man in a white apron strode across the floor toward her. This had to be the chef Bella had mentioned. It would be in Lori’s best interest to impress him, so that any reports going back to Bella would be positive. She offered a nervous smile. “Hi, I’m—”

“Lori, yes. The new manager Bella sent.” He grinned and dipped into a low bow, the white strings of his apron dangling close to the ground. The scent of mint chocolate drifted to Lori’s nose. “I am Edmondo Renardo Rossi, but you may call me Monny.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Monny.” She offered her hand.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He caught her palm and squeezed. “We shall make—what do they say?—beautiful chocolate together.” He winked.

A half snort, half laugh escaped Lori’s mouth, and she tried to cover it with a cough. When Bella told Lori about the chef, she must have forgotten to mention he was the Italian drama king. “Wow, your accent is strong.”

Monny released her hand and straightened his shoulders with pride. “It should be. I am from Napoli, and am here in America to learn Cajun cuisine and desserts. My family owns a business and wanted me to bring new cultures to our restaurant.”

“I see. So you’re learning the ropes on desserts right now, apparently.” Lori motioned toward the streaks of dried fudge on his apron.

“Ropes?” Two brown eyebrows meshed together as one.

Lori pointed toward the kitchen. “Learning how to bake.” She pantomimed stirring in a bowl, then felt ridiculous. He didn’t need sign language; he obviously spoke English. Her cheeks warmed.

“Ah, si.” Monny kissed his fingertips in a broad gesture. “Before Bella hired me, I worked at the Gumbo Shop. You Southern Americans, you like the spices.”

The bell on the door tinkled. Lori jerked. She’d gotten so distracted trying to decipher Monny’s accent, she’d forgotten she was there to work. She hadn’t even opened the register yet. Or fanned the pink paper napkins on the counter as Bella said she did every morning. Or more importantly, sampled a crocodile before they sold out.

“I’ll have my usual.” An elderly, slightly hunched gentleman in a pinstripe suit hobbled toward the counter, a heavy cane accentuating his steps. A cool winter breeze floated in behind him, stirring Lori’s hair. The door shut with a clank.

“Ah, customers. Time to work.” Monny lightly patted Lori’s cheek before disappearing into the kitchen. “Ciao.”

“Wait, what’s his usual?” But Monny was gone in a puff of flour and charm. Lori hurried into position behind the register, shaking her head to wrench back to reality.

“Good morning.” She put on her best smile. “I’m taking over for Bella—”

“Who are you?” the old man barked, lips nearly hidden behind a thick gray mustache. “Where’s Bella?”

“She had a family emergency. I’m Lor—”

“I said what’s your name, dearie? You deaf?”

Lori winced. “No, sir, I said my name is—”

“Ah, forget it. Young people have no manners nowadays.” He thumped one gnarled hand on the counter. “Give me my usual.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know—”

“Don’t tell me you’re out of black coffee and dark chocolate raspberries.”

Lori exhaled for the first time in what felt like minutes. “Of course not. Right away, sir.” She reached for the coffeepot—the empty coffeepot. “Uh, just a minute.” She opened the white cabinet doors under the coffee station. Where were all the beans? And how was she supposed to work that glittering monstrosity of a coffee machine?

Panic cramped her stomach in time to the impatient tapping of Grouchy Man’s cane. She was going to fail on her first day of work. Make that her first ten minutes of work. She’d never get to eat chocolate again. Why couldn’t the other girl, the college student, what’s-her-name-with-the-eyebrow-ring, have been working today?

Lori shoved her hair out of her eyes with an impatient flick, then paused. The list. Bella had said she would leave a list of instructions in the register since she hadn’t had an opportunity to train Lori in person. Anything else she needed she could ask the chef or Eyebrow-Ring Girl or could call Bella’s cell.

Lori unlocked the register and grabbed the list with a triumphant hand. Redemption, in the form of neat penmanship and sheets of lined notebook paper. Thank You, Lord. She skim-read until she found the section labeled Coffee.

The instructions were two inches long.

Lori licked her lips, darted a glance at the cappuccino machine staring menacingly down at her and then at Grouchy Man. “Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll serve you when it’s ready?”

She couldn’t tell if the frown was new, or if his wrinkles were permanently knit that way, but regardless, Grouchy Man stomped his cane toward a nearby table and planted himself in a chair, arms crossed.

Lori turned back toward the machine and drew a fortifying breath. She was so having a chocolate crocodile after this.

Andy tried the handle on the door of the Chocolate Gator. Locked. The hours posted informed him the shop closed at six, and it was fifteen past. He cupped his hands around his eyes and peered through the glass into the dim boutique. He could barely make out Lori’s sprawled form at a table, one arm hanging limply over the back of her seat. Her legs were crossed, and she rubbed one bare foot with her free hand. Red high-heel shoes lay on the floor by her chair.

He winced. High heels on the first day at a new job? Big mistake—but knowing Lori and her accessory fetish, she’d be back in a different pair of equally ridiculous shoes tomorrow, and probably sporting a matching purse. He knocked on the glass.

Lori waved and gestured at her feet. As in, she wasn’t about to get up. Part of him couldn’t blame her; the other part wanted to point to her shoes and yell duh. He knocked louder.

“Coming!” an Italian accent bellowed through the glass. Andy jumped. The door was flung open to reveal a tall, dark-haired guy about his own age, maybe late twenties. “Ciao.”

“Uh, ciao.” Andy stepped over the threshold, taking in the chocolate smeared on the sleeves of the man’s white shirt and the flour dusting the top of his shoes. “I’m Bella’s nephew, Andy Stewart.”

“Ah, si! You are the one who secured this angel a job.” He gestured toward Lori, who grinned and offered an innocent shrug. Angel? Apparently this guy had never experienced Lori’s temper—or witnessed her reaction to an empty doughnut box.

Andy cleared his throat. “I guess I am. And you are?” The chef, obviously. But Andy wanted a name—and he really wanted the odd twisting sensation in his stomach that began the moment this dude called Lori an angel to quit.

“Edmondo, or Monny. I cook with Bella.”

They shook hands, Andy’s grip a bit tighter than necessary. He forced his palm to relax. “Nice to meet you.” His aunt told him months ago about her new chef from overseas, but failed to mention he was this young—and this Italian. Hopefully Lori wasn’t one of those crazy girls who got all excited hearing a foreign accent….

“Monny, say that thing you said earlier.” Lori flipped her long hair over her shoulder, the light returning to her tired eyes. “About chocolate.”

“You mean cioccolata, mi cara.” He winked.

Andy’s eyes narrowed. Cara? From the look in Edmondo’s eyes, that term of endearment definitely didn’t mean coworker. He pulled out the chair across from Lori and sank into it, the screech against the tile floor interrupting the annoying flow of foreign words from Edmondo. Just his luck, the guy could probably make the phone book sound romantic.

“So, how was your first day?” He scooted a vase of flowers to the side so he could see Lori’s face. She was his friend before this guy’s, and he needed to tell her what happened at the church. Monny could wait.

“Thanks for the job, Bella. You can’t train me in the shop? No problem, I’m a quick learner. I can figure it out, Bella. Of course I can make coffee, Bella,” Lori mocked, her hands covering her face.

“That good, huh?”

“Yes.” She peeked through her fingers at Andy and smiled. “But I loved every minute of it.”

He laughed and tugged her hands down to the table. “You’ve got flour in your hair.”

“Thanks for that, Monny.” She pulled free and patted at her head.

Monny flipped the lock on the front door and grinned. “Just be glad it wasn’t the raspberry crème.” He paused at their table. “I’ll leave through the back so you won’t have to lock the front door again. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” Lori wiggled her fingers in a wave. “Maybe tomorrow will be easier since I’ll have help at the front.”

“You did a wonderful job.”

“Only because of your help.” She smiled.

Andy’s stomach rolled. Was Lori flirting back with this guy? The fake charm practically oozed from Monny’s tanned skin. Lori couldn’t be actually falling for it…right? He wadded a stray napkin into a ball and clenched it in his fist as Monny disappeared through the kitchen doors.

Lori met Andy’s gaze with a slight frown, gesturing at his white-knuckled grip. “Are you okay?”

He dropped the napkin and opened his mouth, and then hesitated before answering. If okay included his job being all but threatened, and this sudden burst of jealousy over one of his best friends, then sure. He shook his head to clear the random thoughts. Pastor Mike’s talk on marriage must have put crazy thoughts in his mind.

“Earth to Andy.” Lori waved a hand in front of his face. “I thought I was the one who was worn out. Don’t make me put you in the ring with that cappuccino machine.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down. “You might not come out alive.”

He leaned back in his chair, away from her teasing and the suddenly overpowering scent of her fruity perfume. Combined with the aroma hovering in the shop, she smelled like a chocolate-covered strawberry. What was wrong with him? This was Lori, the girl who passed hastily scribbled notes to him during church with smiley faces asking where they were going for lunch. The girl who ganged up with his youth group to spray him with Silly String one summer morning on his way into the office. The girl who knew most of his secrets, brought him back to reality when he got prideful and encouraged him when he felt like a failure.

The girl who’d been so close to his side for so many years that he’d failed to see what was directly in front of him.

Andy stared at Lori as if for the first time. Long brown hair swept into a partial ponytail. Eyes twinkling with laughter despite the fatigue lining the edges. A few freckles spattered across her nose that she never tried to cover with makeup. Lori. His best friend…and the woman who just might make the senior church staff—and him—very, very happy.

His lips spread in a slow smile. “Actually, yes. I think I am all right now.”

Chapter Three

Lori drew a deep breath of chocolate-scented air and closed her eyes. Tuesday. A new day, a fresh start, a second chance to succeed.

Or fail miserably.

Her eyes popped open. She had to think positively—surely her second day would be better than the first. The part-time worker, Summer Pierce, would be there after noon to help run the register and bag orders. Besides, Lori now knew what Mr. Grouchy’s “usual” was, and she’d won more rounds than she’d lost with the coffeemaker. It couldn’t get any harder than that, right?

The sound of Monny’s melodic humming from the kitchen lightened her mood, and Lori swayed in rhythm as she fanned Bella’s signature pink and black napkins on the counter. She’d taken interior-design classes in college, and she really appreciated Bella’s decorating skills. Everything in the shop blended, but didn’t match. That was important in drawing the eye and creating an environment.

Lori’s eyes narrowed as she took in the room. Had Bella ever considered selling other coordinating products in her store? The setup was perfect for merchandise. Pink and black mugs, for example, or mini stuffed animals carrying bags of chocolate. Even logo purses would probably sell, if done in the shop’s signature colors.

She reached for a pad of paper under the register and a pencil. Maybe she could jot down a few ideas to mention once Bella came back. Or better yet, create a pro/con list to show Bella how well her ideas would work.

“Lori, mi cara!”

Lori jerked at her name, still not used to it being followed by Monny’s ever-present “my dear” tag. “Coming!” She dropped the pad and pencil and pushed through the swinging kitchen door. Much as she hated to admit it, Monny’s attention the last two days had soothed the raw spot left from Jason’s betrayal, and the ache from Andy’s lack of interest. If a cute Italian chef was possibly attracted to her, who cared what her ex or her best friend thought, right?

She hurried into the kitchen. Monny stood over a giant pot of churning ingredients. “I’m making fudge. Will you stir this while I check on the sponge cake? Prego?”

“Sure.” She took the long wooden spoon and ran it through the white mixture. “What’s in here?”

Monny donned an oven mitt. “Sugar, milk, vanilla…and a secret ingredient or two.” He yanked open the oven door with a smile. “Bella would not be happy if I told.”

Lori stirred the thickening concoction faster, trying to ignore the twinge of hurt in her stomach. She couldn’t exactly blame Bella for not trusting her with the shop’s secrets. It was enough she trusted Lori with the store itself. Besides, it wasn’t Bella who refused to tell her, just Monny doing what he thought was the proper thing. Right?

Her thoughts trailed off. The oven door shut, and Monny called instructions over the sound of the kitchen’s whirring exhaust fan. “And add the chocolate, in the bowl to your left.”

Lori jerked back to attention. She grabbed the mixing bowl, full of chopped chocolate pieces, and added it to the boiling mixture in the pot. She stirred harder, hoping Monny hadn’t noticed her zoning out. Not that she was trying to impress him—was she? She chewed her bottom lip, the spoon slowing in her hand. She hadn’t been on a date in so long she’d forgotten the rules of flirting. It was all Andy’s fault. If he’d just paid attention to her in the way she wanted him to, instead of being such an oblivious guy, maybe they could have—

“Watch out!”

Monny’s warning cry came too late. Thick chocolate bubbles popped. Lori shrieked. Chocolate sprayed, barely missing her face. She stepped back, wielding the wooden spoon. The thick mixture dripped off the edge of the spoon and onto her clothing. She shrieked again as the warmth seeped through her thin sweater.

“Hot!” Lori fanned her shirt away from her body. The spoon clattered to the floor. Monny ran toward the pot as more bubbles popped. He ducked as one splattered the oven backsplash, and reached for the burner. Another bubble burst and sprayed his wrist. He mumbled in Italian and turned off the burner. His other hand with the oven mitt moved the steaming pot away from the heat.

Monny turned to Lori, chocolate coating his apron. He slowly took off the mitt, his chest expanding as he drew a deep breath. “Mi cara, I said to remove from heat before adding the chocolate.”

“Oops.” Lori felt a flush creep up her neck. Or maybe it was just the result of her hot-chocolate dance. “I must not have heard that part. I’m sorry.”

“No problem. It will be—what do you say?—Saveable.”

“Salvageable?”

“Si.” Monny picked up the spoon from the floor and tossed it into the deep stainless-steel sink. The corners of his lips crinkled into a smile. “One disaster averted. Let’s see if we can make this fudge—”

“The cake!” Lori gestured wildly to the oven behind Monny, where smoke started to seep from the edges.

Monny grabbed the oven mitt again and wrenched open the door. Smoke billowed. He hefted the pan from inside, and it landed on the counter with a clatter. The chocolate batter had bubbled over onto the oven rack and burned. He stared listlessly at the hardened, crusty shell of what was supposed to be one of the Chocolate Gator’s best-selling products.

Lori waved one hand at the dissipating smoke and coughed. “Maybe we can still sell it and call it Cajun?”

Andy stared at the pen in his hand, willing it to obey. “Write. Something, anything—just write!” But no words formed on the card lying on his desk. Big surprise. Penning thoughts to your good friend turned best friend turned love interest wasn’t exactly easy.

He dropped the pen with a groan and flopped back in his office chair. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Last night, sitting in his recliner and flipping channels on the TV, the concept of sending secret gifts seemed ingenious. Surely it’d break the ice between him and Lori and warm her up to the idea of being more than friends. Hey, it worked for the guy in the Lifetime movie, didn’t it? But now it just seemed ridiculous. Lori said herself a year ago that she was through with the dating game after her ex-fiancé hurt her so badly.

The church staff was being unfair. Like finding true love was so easy. Like discovering the one person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with was this no-big-deal, everyday occurrence. Maybe he should forget the idea of finding a woman and remove himself from the game as Lori had done. Being a bachelor wasn’t that bad—although he could stand a home-cooked meal or two. And someone to remind him not to leave wet towels on the bedroom carpet so his room wouldn’t smell so moldy the next day. And it wouldn’t be awful to have someone to fight with over leaving the toothpaste cap off or whose turn it was to wash dishes or how much spice to put in the jambalaya.

But was it worth this kind of headache?

He grabbed a Hershey’s Kiss from the bowl on his counter—the bowl he kept for Lori when she was hanging out at the church—and let his eyes drift back to the greeting card in front of him. It was catchy and corny, just Lori’s thing. Two grinning cartoon characters with big moony eyes, one shooting pulsing heart beams toward the other with a bow and arrow. The text read Cupid Ain’t Got Nothing on Me. But what could he write underneath? And wouldn’t she recognize his handwriting?

The guy in the movie hadn’t had these kinds of problems.

Andy raked one hand through his hair. At least the bouquet of daisies and stargazer lilies would be a winner. Lori told him a year ago that lilies were her favorite flower because she figured they were God’s favorite, too. When he questioned her reasoning, she simply said a flower that smelled that strongly was obviously trying to waft its aroma toward Heaven.

He sniffed and fought a sneeze. She wasn’t kidding. He grabbed for a tissue seconds before the allergy attack began. Leave it to Lori to prefer the least subtle flower in all of nature. The sooner he figured out this card thing and delivered the gift, the sooner he could breathe again. Although Lori’s potential rejection would probably suck the life from their friendship. He wondered if he should even risk this.

The phone jangled on his desk, and he eagerly snatched it up. Any distraction was better than hovering over this greeting card, feeling like a poetic failure. “Youth pastor’s office, this is Andy.”

“Andy, my favorite nephew.” His aunt’s voice rang through the line with her usual flair of Southern charm.

He laughed at their long-standing argument. “Aunt Bella, I’m your only nephew.”

“Psh. Details.” He could just imagine her flipping her manicured hand in the air as if brushing off such a concept. “Listen, dear, I’m at the airport and don’t have much time. I need a favor.”

“Sure, Aunt Bella. It’s the least I can do after you hooked Lori up with a job.” Andy rolled a pencil between his fingers.

“That’s why I’m calling. I have no doubt Lori can handle the store. Our quick interview together and her résumé proved her competent.” Bella drew in a deep breath. “But I don’t know her very well, and since you obviously do, I was hoping you might keep an eye on things while I’m gone. Be there to lend a hand if she needs it. Unofficially, of course.”

“Of course. You’d hate to cut another paycheck.” Andy grinned.

“Boy, you know good and well—”

“I’m just kidding, Aunt Bella.” Andy dropped the pencil on his desk and leaned back in his chair. “I’m happy to help, for free. I’m sure Lori won’t mind if I hang around the shop a bit.”

Bella paused. “I was also sort of hoping you wouldn’t tell her.”

Andy swallowed. Not tell Lori? That was sure to blow up in his face later. “Aunt Bella, I—”

“I don’t want Lori to get paranoid about my faith in her abilities. I just want someone to keep a watch out and be nearby if there is an emergency.” Bella’s voice turned pleading. “I’m talking about a few pop-in visits, a few phone calls. Nothing you probably wouldn’t do for her anyway.”

She was right about that—of course Andy would visit Lori at work. But if Lori found out about the ulterior motive…Andy winced. It wouldn’t be pretty.

Her voice was beginning to sound far away. “I’ve got to go, dear. The signal is fading. Just say yes.”

Andy released his breath, regretting the words he knew he had to speak. “No problem, Aunt Bella. I’ll keep an eye on Lori and the store for you. Don’t worry about a thing.” He squeezed his eyes closed as he disconnected the call. Maybe Lori wouldn’t ever have to find out. Maybe he could stay subtle enough that she wouldn’t feel that he was doing anything more than being a good friend.

His eyes drifted back to the still-unsigned greeting card. A good friend with a secret motive that had nothing to do with the store or his aunt.

“Pastor Andy?”

Andy looked up from the card. Haley stood in his open office door. “Haley! What are you doing out of school?” He swiped the card into his desk drawer and slammed it shut.

She slowly approached his desk, brow furrowed. “What do you mean? It’s after three o’clock.”

“Are you serious?” Andy glanced at his watch—3:22 p.m. The afternoon sun streaming through the slanted blinds confirmed that the world continued to revolve…and not around him. Had he really been sitting there staring at Lori’s gift for almost two hours? He groaned again.

Haley plopped down in the chair across from his and smoothed her cheerleading uniform over her legs. “I came by to tell you Jeremy and I tried making a strawberry cake for the youth service tomorrow. But he can’t cook at all. He totally ruined our practice cake.”

“You made a practice cake?” He bit back a grin. Somehow, he didn’t picture Jeremy hanging out in a kitchen more than absolutely necessary. But at least they were working together and learning teamwork, as was the goal.

“Tried to.” Haley tossed one braid over her shoulder. “The whole thing tasted like glue.” She wrinkled her nose.

He decided not to ask how she knew what glue tasted like. “And it’s entirely Jeremy’s fault because…?”

Haley stared, duh written all over her expression. “He was the one who stirred.”

“I see.” Andy rubbed his fingers over his eyes. Note to self: pick up dessert for Wednesday night. Maybe that was a good thing. He could swing by the Chocolate Gator, pick up some brownies and visit Lori. If he could find a way to secretly deliver the gift before the service tomorrow, then he could gauge her reaction while he was there.

He sat up straight in his chair. Finally, a plan. Now he just needed to figure out what to write on the card and how to deliver it to the shop. He frowned. There was the problem. He couldn’t just stroll inside with a mustache and hat and plunk the vase on the counter. She’d see right through it.

Right through him. He shuddered. No, he wasn’t ready for that yet. He needed to see how Lori responded before he could open himself to that kind of vulnerability. But who would take the gift and keep his secret? Who did he even trust with his secret? He drummed his nails on the desktop.

“Who are those for?” Haley leaned forward and brushed the petals of the lilies with her fingertips.

“Nobody.” The abrupt dismissal rolled off his tongue before Andy could process how suspicious it sounded, and he winced. Maybe Haley wouldn’t notice.

“Yeah, right.” She stood and leaned over the vase for a better view. “You have a girlfriend or something?”

Or something. Andy coughed. “No, they’re for…” He stopped. He couldn’t lie to his own youth-group member. “A friend.”

Haley winked. “A special friend?”

“Just a friend.” Andy stood as well and gestured toward the open door. “Thanks for stopping by. Don’t worry about getting the dessert. I’ll let you guys slide this time.” He’d probably pay for it later, but the last thing he needed was Haley snooping around and figuring out his plan. Despite her off-again, on-again status with Jeremy, the girl was a super romantic and had at one point tried to set everyone in the youth group up with someone else.

Haley stayed by the flowers, seemingly oblivious to his attempt at her dismissal. “Come on, who is it?” Her hand stilled on the petals. “Not Tawny.”

“No, not Tawny.”

Her breath exhaled in a whoosh, and she continued to fluff the arrangement. “Good. She’s not your type.”

Andy agreed. It was debatable if Tawny Sinclair was anyone’s type, especially after what she did to his best friend, Carter. Gracie and Carter’s relationship was almost over before it began, thanks to Tawny’s seductive meddling, but it had all worked out. At the end of the day, she was still a woman in need of God’s grace, a more conservative wardrobe and a healthy relationship—just definitely not with him. Thankfully Tawny’s youth-group volunteer days were long over.

“Then who are they for?”

Haley wouldn’t quit. Andy came around the front of the desk and steered her toward the door. “Isn’t it enough I’m letting you off dessert duty?”

“No.” She grinned. “I’m a teenager, Pastor Andy. You know it’s never enough. Come on, spill it.”

“Never.” He opened the door wider, and it caught the rug at their feet. He kicked to free it while Haley continued to meddle.

“I’ll do Wednesday desserts for two weeks.”

Andy straightened, feigning interest. “Make it four.”

“Okay, four.”

“Nope, still not telling.” He grinned back.

“Pastor Andy!” She huffed.

“I’m not telling you, because there’s nothing to tell.” A headache started at his temples. Why did he suddenly feel like he was in high school himself? The girl was persistent—no wonder Jeremy looked frustrated all the time. Going against his girlfriend had to be tougher than any opposing school’s quarterback.

“Will this tell me?” Haley dangled a small white card in front of his face.

The delivery card with Lori’s name on it.

The blood rushed to Andy’s head, and his temples pounded harder. When had she—He sucked in his breath. The little minx, when she’d been playing with the arrangement! He’d dodged a zillion buckets-over-the-door and glue-on-the-toilet-seat pranks, but this one he never saw coming.

“Haley, give me that card.” He held out his hand, but she pranced out of his reach and lifted the flap.

“For Lori?” She squealed, then clamped one hand over her mouth. “That’s so perfect. Why didn’t I think of it? And just in time for Valentine’s Day!”

His anger at her disobedience fled. “Perfect? You think so?” He quickly shook his head. Now he was encouraged at the approval of a high-schooler? Still, no one knew him and Lori better than the youth group.

“You guys would be great together.” Haley handed over the delivery card. “And I won’t tell. I promise. I want to help.”

“How in the world could you possibly…” Andy stopped as an idea formed. He looped one arm around Haley’s shoulders and leaned down. “Ever had experience as a delivery girl?”

Chapter Four

Lori stared at the flowers sitting on the counter. Where’d they come from? She’d gone into the kitchen to ask Monny about sugar-free chocolates, and when she came back, the flowers had appeared in all their fuchsia and burgundy glory. The store was deserted, as it was almost closing time, so it couldn’t have been a customer. Maybe Bella had ordered them for the display before she left for Shreveport.

“Summer? You know anything about these?” Doubtful. The twenty-year-old, multipierced college student usually had her nose buried in a magazine during the store’s late-afternoon lull. Or was jamming with her iPod.

Summer straightened from her slump against the counter and shrugged a thin shoulder. The fluorescent lights above glinted off her eyebrow ring. “Beats me. I must have been in the stockroom. Though I’m surprised I didn’t smell those things coming a mile away.”

Lori inhaled the spicy aroma of the lilies as she searched for a card among the pristine leaves. Smell? That was too harsh a word for this fragrance. The flowers were so pretty they almost seemed fake. She plucked the card from the greenery and blinked twice. Her name, scrawled in unfamiliar handwriting.

“What is that strong smell…?” Monny stepped through the kitchen and stopped short as Lori held up the bouquet.

“Someone sent me flowers.”

“I see that.” He coughed and backed away. “Very nice.”

“Stargazers, my favorites. But I don’t know why someone would have sent them. It’s not my birthday.”

“Anniversary?”

Lori frowned. “Anniversary of what?”

“Don’t tell me Americans don’t celebrate amore.” Monny patted his apron over his heart and grinned, his teeth appearing extra white in contrast to his olive skin.

Summer snorted and turned back to her magazine, shaking her head.

“Of course we celebrate love.” Lori paused. “But I’m not dating anyone.”

Monny’s smile seemed to brighten, and Lori quickly averted her eyes back to the flowers. Was the surprise gift from him? They barely knew each other. But why else would he be interested in her dating status?

A dried petal fell to the counter, and for the first time, Lori noticed another card lying under the vase, a full-sized envelope like one would buy at Hallmark. She tugged it free and slit the light blue flap with her fingernail, noting from the corner of her eye that Monny slipped back inside the kitchen. To hide his knowing smile when she read his card, or just to check the brownies?

She was silly to think he’d be interested in her. No, she only attracted men with fast words and lying lips, men who broke promises and cheated on their fiancées.

Lori pulled her lower lip between her teeth and read the card, the bitterness of the past tainting the cute message. No signature, other than the words YOUR SECRET ADMIRER written in big block letters, an obvious attempt to hide the owner’s handwriting.

Would Monny send a corny note like this one? Everything else he had said or done during their days working together had been smooth. Sauve. Sophisticated, like his accent. But who was to say he didn’t have a silly side lurking beneath that savvy exterior? She really didn’t know him at all.

Couldn’t truly know any man at all.

She slid the card back into the envelope, then thought twice. She pulled it back out and, after making sure Summer wasn’t watching, stood it open beside the cash register. Might be silly, but if Andy—the man she wanted to notice her—never would, at least she could appreciate romantic efforts from a coworker. Even if she had no intention of following through with them.

Lori set the vase in a prime spot on the counter, then grabbed a dust cloth and began to wipe down the display case. Monny started humming a tune from the kitchen, and the melodic sound blossomed a sprig of hope beneath her doubt. If Monny could be interested in her, who was to say Andy might not come around one day? She absently joined in the song under her breath, swaying slowly as she cleaned.

Andy stood outside the Chocolate Gator and hesitantly peered through the window. Lori stood at the counter, head ducked as she counted bills at the register. Strands of her long brown hair, pulled halfway back, skimmed her cheeks as she rhythmically placed bills into stacks. Her lips moved slightly as she counted to herself.

Andy drew a deep breath. He’d been unable to sleep well last night, wondering if he’d done the right thing by sending Haley as a delivery girl. What if she told his secret? What if she wasn’t subtle enough? What if Lori saw her and put two and two together? He wasn’t ready for Lori to know his thoughts, his plan—and he definitely wasn’t ready for her to hear what Pastor Mike had suggested about his love life.

Maybe it was too late. Maybe Haley hadn’t been able to take the flowers yesterday afternoon at all. Or maybe they’d already died. Maybe he’d killed them with his secrets and his schemes and…

No, if the stargazer lilies were already dead, it was no doubt they’d collapsed from their own aroma.

Andy shoved his hands in his pockets, then realized he needed them to open the door—unless he stayed outside, which seemed like a good option at this point. Lori knew nothing, and he hadn’t invested anything in this wacky plan except for the forty-three dollars and twenty-seven cents he’d spent on the flowers. Forty-seven dollars, if he counted the card. He could check on Lori for his aunt another time and just go home, forget about it all.

And then what—forget about ever finding a wife? Forget about his job? Forget about the way Lori’s smile wreaked havoc in his stomach and her playful punches stung his arm like a thousand arrows from Cupid’s bow?

Not likely.

Andy stole a peek through the window again, and his heartbeat spiked. The vase of flowers was on the counter opposite where Lori stood, part of a display with wrapped chocolate bars. That had to mean she liked them, right?

Lori stuffed the money inside a deposit bag and shut the register drawer. His stomach clenched. If he didn’t go inside now, she’d leave out the back and he’d never know what she really thought of the flowers. Not to mention the youth group wouldn’t have any dessert after their service tonight.

He ran his palm over his hair, winced at its clamminess and knocked on the door before he could change his mind. Lori looked up from the display with surprise, then hurried over to unlock the door.

“Hey, there.” Her smile warmed his insides like the winter sunshine had moments ago warmed his clothes. “I just closed up. You almost missed me.”

He returned her smile, trying not to read too much into her greeting. She had no idea—he’d almost missed her by a lot more than ten minutes. If it hadn’t been for Pastor Mike and the church board, he might have missed her by a lifetime. How could he have never noticed the parade of nerves inside his stomach while in her presence all these years?

Andy suddenly realized he had yet to speak and cleared his throat. “Oh, right. I came to get a dessert for the youth service tonight. Sorry I’m late.” He wouldn’t have been if he hadn’t stopped to second-guess himself the entire way here. But she didn’t need that information.

Lori frowned. “You should have just called me. I could have brought it and saved you the trip.”

Andy leaned casually against the counter. “Well, I was just going to, you know, say hi. Or whatever.” He couldn’t tell her about Bella’s request. Hopefully Lori wouldn’t require further explanation. He cleared his throat again to stall, his eyes scanning the area behind the display even though he wasn’t exactly sure what he expected to see. The flowers were already out front and center. What better reaction could he hope for?

“You’ll see me in a few hours.” Lori pulled a plastic glove over her hand and slid open the display case. “Just because I’m a shop manager now doesn’t mean I’m going to skip out on my responsibility to the youth group.”

“Of course not.” Andy rubbed at his throat. What was that lump doing there? Other than blocking everything he was trying so hard to say. “I never thought that.”

“Good.” Lori snapped the edge of her glove against her hand with a flourish. “What’ll it be, sir?” She grinned.

He opened his mouth to order three dozen chocolate-filled crème cookies. But the words lingered on his lips, unspoken. The silly cartoon card was propped against the register, where Lori could easily see it all day.

His neck warmed, and he tugged at his polo collar. “Uh…”

Lori quirked an eyebrow, her hand hovering over the display, waiting to know which item to grab. “Sorry, we’re fresh out of uh. I must have burned them with the sponge cake yesterday.”

Andy shook his head to clear it, forcing his eyes not to dart back to the telltale card. Or was he reading more into it than he should? He suddenly remembered all the reasons why he hadn’t dated in so long. This was complicated stuff. “What’s a sponge cake?”

“It’s supposed to be a very light, airy cake. But because of me, it was a very dark, hard cake.”

“Bad day?”

“An eventful afternoon, to say the least.” Lori snorted. “I think I still have fudge in my hair.”

Andy’s stomach clenched again. Fudge in her hair—did that mean a food fight? He imagined Lori and that smooth-talking Italian flinging batter and dough and laughing together in the kitchen, the camaraderie and teasing maybe leading to a kiss. He swallowed. “I thought that guy did all the cooking?”

“Monny does do all the baking. But I was helping out, and well—it was disastrous.” Lori rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how much inventory I wasted. I probably won’t be doing much baking anymore.”

Good. Andy cleared his throat. “Sorry you had a tough time.”

“Oh, it’s gotten better. Monny and Summer are showing me how things work. It’s been fun.”

Great. Private tutoring. He straightened his shoulders and tried to ignore the way his heart began a slow descent toward his toes. “I guess I’ll take a few dozen of those cookies there.” He tapped the display window with his finger and tried to cheer up. At least Lori seemed to like his gift. Otherwise she would have thrown the card in the trash, right?

“Here you go.” Lori bagged his order, then tossed the used glove in a wastebasket and punched buttons on the register. “At least I haven’t messed this part up yet. If Summer and I can keep this drawer balanced every night, then I won’t feel I’ve failed Bella’s business.”

Andy handed her his business credit card and watched as she swiped it through the machine. “You’ll be fine. You can do anything you put your mind to.” Too bad she hadn’t put her mind to dating him. Or had she? Did she suspect the gift was from him at all? He really should have talked to Haley and gotten the details of the drop-off before coming in here. If Lori had seen Haley with the flowers, the odds of Lori’s figuring out who her secret admirer was were much higher.

He was getting another headache. Maybe this secret-admirer plan wasn’t his best idea. Andy shoved the credit card back into his wallet and took the pink paper bag from Lori’s outstretched hand. “Listen, Lori—”

“Guess what—”

They spoke at the same time. Andy gestured with his hand. “Ladies first.” It would give him time to stall the truth.

Lori shoved loose strands of her hair behind her ears. “I was just going to say guess what happened today?”

“What? Another brownie blowout?” He grinned at her excitement. How had he never noticed how beautiful she was before?

She slugged him in the arm over the counter, and his easy smile faltered at her touch. “No, silly. I learned that lesson.”

He tried to ignore the way his shoulder warmed under his sleeve. “I give up, then.”

“I have a secret admirer.”

Andy nearly choked on his own spit. Play it cool, play it cool. He rotated his shoulders and cracked his neck, mentally preparing his confession. Maybe her no-dating stage was nearing an end. Maybe she would consider him after all. “Really?”

Lori glanced over her shoulder. “Yep.” Then she leaned over the counter to whisper, “And I think it might be Monny.”

Chapter Five

Andy fiddled with the microphone attachment on the waistband of his jeans, turning the volume in his headpiece up, then down. Up, down. At least it made him look busy and hopefully hid the fact that he remained unable to keep his eyes off Lori. She hurried around the kitchen area in the back of the gymnasium, setting out plastic cups and piles of napkins for the after-service snack.

He should be thinking about the announcements he needed to make during the service, or about the sermon he was about to deliver to his dwindling youth group, but all he could focus on was the fact that Lori seemed thrilled about her secret admirer—which would be a good thing if she realized it was him, and not that Italian cheese-ball.

He cranked the volume up again, then quickly back down as the feedback threatened his ears. Maybe the church board was right—he would be less distracted if he had a wife, though not in the way they assumed. Ironically, he hadn’t been distracted at all until they’d approached him about the matter and brought to light his interest in Lori. If Pastor Mike hadn’t said those things in his office last week, Andy would probably be reviewing his sermon notes right now instead of wearing a callus in his thumb from all the volume switching….

“Pastor Andy, watch out!” A Nerf football whizzed past Andy’s head with inches to spare. He jerked and turned to see Jeremy jogging after the renegade ball, head ducked low in embarrassment. “Sorry, I told Peter to go long,” he called over his shoulder as he chased the blur of rolling blue sponge.

Andy glanced at the kitchen again in time to see Lori leaning over the counter, laughing so hard her hair nearly covered her face. “Let me guess. You never made the team?” she shouted through cupped hands.

Like he’d even had a chance at catching that pass. He just waved and offered a smile, probably a pretty goofy one since he could feel his neck flushing a little. She probably thought Monny could have caught that ball and mixed up cake batter all at the same time. Women.

Haley appeared at his side with a soda can. “Here, Pastor Andy. Lori told me to give you this. She said you looked like you could use it.”

He could, but that wasn’t the point. Was Lori being sweet or cracking on his lack of football skills? He couldn’t tell, now that she was back to work in the kitchen. Either way, the cold drink would hopefully revive him enough to get through the service in one piece.

Andy took the can from Haley and popped the top. “Thanks. Did you see your boyfriend almost nail me in the head with a football, too?”

“No. But he’s not my boyfriend anymore.” She wrinkled her nose. “We broke up.”

He took a long drag on the Coke. “Until tomorrow.”

“No, this time it’s for real.”

“Okay, a week, then.” Andy winked.

Haley crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not kidding. He really made me mad. Love stinks.”

He debated arguing the love point with her, but quickly realized he didn’t have nearly enough time before the service started, and it would probably fall on unwilling ears anyway. Instead, he patted Haley’s shoulder. “He’ll come around. Guys aren’t all that bad.”

“I know. Love doesn’t stink for everyone.” Haley grinned and twisted one braid around her finger. “For example, I think you and Lori will make a great couple.”

“Shh!” Andy’s grip tightened around the can, and the aluminum crackled. He lowered his head to her level. “You agreed to keep that a secret.”

Haley shrugged. “No one’s around. Besides, you can’t keep it hidden forever—especially if you want a date for Valentine’s Day. Eventually she’ll figure out the gifts are from you.”

“Not if you avoid being seen as we discussed.” And unfortunately, not if Lori’s current train of thought kept whistling toward Monny.

Andy squeezed the can harder, and a bubble of Coke blurped from the open tab. He had to find a way to show Lori—subtly, of course, so as not to scare her away—that the gifts were from him. The next present would have to be perfect, something romantic and meaningful—and, most importantly, something that would hint at his identity while not taking away the air of mystery. Somehow, it would do all of those things and leave him looking much more appealing than Monny.

He took another sip of Coke and felt the cold liquid trickle down his throat. Right. And I’m the next Joe Montana.

Lori secured the lid back on a two-liter bottle of Dr Pepper and slid the full plastic cup toward a young man with multiple tattoos on his arms. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He took the cup and smiled before leaving to mingle with the rest of the youth group. A few years ago, Lori would have seen someone like that—tattooed and pierced—on the streets and immediately cast judgment. But these kids had shown her that what was on the surface didn’t always accurately reveal the heart.

She watched the tattooed guy meander through the crowd toward Andy, who greeted the young man by name and slung an arm around his thin shoulders in greeting. It seemed Andy was finally back in top form. The first half of his sermon she’d wondered if he was okay—he looked distracted, almost frustrated at times. But the longer he talked about the importance of friendship and fellowshipping together at church, the more involved he became, and eventually that determined spark lit his eyes once again. Now he interacted with the youth group as if he had nothing else on his mind.

Friendship—Andy’s specialty. Lori supposed he was living proof of the age-old argument that a man and woman could be just friends and nothing else. She sighed. Story of her life. She’d sworn off dating after Jason cheated on her. Now that she finally felt a little more interest in getting out there again, her Mr. Right remained oblivious.

Lori shoved the two-liter across the counter to make room and leaned over, bracing her elbows against the worn Formica and wishing she could turn off her worries as fast as Andy seemed to during the sermon. Who was her secret admirer? Not Andy, as much as she wanted him to be. He didn’t have a romantic bone in his body—and definitely not toward her, the girl he burped in front of during monthly movie nights at her town house. If Andy cared about impressing her, he would have done so long before now. They’d been friends for years, and he’d never shown even a flicker of interest. Lori learned months ago to quit trying before her heart got broken yet again.

All secret-admirer signs pointed to Monny. Earlier today, when she told Andy as much, she’d felt almost certain Monny was the culprit. But once she and Monny left for the day, he gave his usual goodbye wave and wink and disappeared into the back alley without a word about the flowers. Lori couldn’t decide if she felt disappointed or relieved. Interest from a handsome Italian chef would definitely be a day-brightener, but in the overall picture, it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t date Monny even if he was her secret admirer. Despite his charm, dark good looks and delicious accent, he just wasn’t Andy—silly, rumpled, prankster Andy, who could always make Lori laugh with a dumb joke and tell what she was thinking often before Lori even knew herself.

Lori traced her fingernail across the fading design on the countertop, and the rhythmic thumping of a dribbling basketball nearby punctuated her thoughts. Maybe she’d imagined the whole thing. The flowers and card were real enough, but maybe the secret-admirer concept wasn’t. Just because the card was signed that way didn’t mean someone was being serious. It could have even been a youth-group member playing a joke.

“Lori? You okay?” Haley stepped up to the counter and waved her hand in front of Lori’s face. “You’re totally somewhere else.”

“No, I’m here. Just thinking.” Lori straightened, then frowned as a movement across the gym caught her attention. Andy was staring at them, his face pale and drawn, his eyes wide. He stepped forward as if to approach them but was held back by a youth-group member demanding his attention. He looked back and forth between the kid and Lori before settling his gaze on the youth, the panicked expression only slightly fading.

Was Andy feeling sick again? She’d have to talk to him after the kids left and make sure he was okay. Lori turned her attention back to Haley. “What kind of drink do you want?”

“How about one that will give me enough guts to tell Jeremy I want to get back together?” She slumped over the counter-top, mimicking Lori’s previous position.

Lori smiled. “Trouble in teen paradise?”

“Something like that.” Haley rolled her eyes.

“I think Coke should do the trick.” Lori poured her a glass and slid it across the counter. “What’s going on?”

“I was fine with our breakup, but after hearing Pastor Andy’s talk tonight on friendship, I realized that I miss him. Jeremy is—was—my best friend on top of being my boyfriend.” Haley poked an ice cube with her pink-painted fingernail. “I guess I forgot that part when we started fighting and called it quits.”

“He’ll take you back.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because he probably feels the exact same way.” Lori gestured over Haley’s shoulder. Jeremy stood alone near the stage, hands in his pockets and head hung low, as if studying his shoes. He shuffled his feet, looked over toward the kitchen where Haley stood, then down again.

Haley turned back to Lori. “What should I do?”

“You know what they say.” Lori nudged the plate of leftover chocolate cookies closer to Haley. “The way to a man’s heart…”

Haley plucked two cookies from the pile, hope lighting her eyes. “Thanks, Lori. Of course you would think of that, working at the Chocolate Gator and all. I bet—”

“Wait, how do you know where I work?” Lori interjected. That was odd. She hadn’t told any of the youth-group kids yet. “I just started.”

Haley’s eyes widened to giant orbs. “Um, Pastor Andy mentioned it earlier. When I asked where the cookies came from.” She snatched a napkin from the counter. “Gotta go. Thanks again.” Then she whisked across the floor toward Jeremy, narrowly dodging a man rolling up the thick black cords from the sound table.

Lori tapped her finger against the half-empty bottle of Coke, watching Haley present her peace-offering dessert to Jeremy. He offered a tentative smile, and then they hugged and simultaneously bit into their cookies.

If only every relationship were that easy. Lori almost wished for the complicated days of high school. Wasn’t growing up supposed to get easier? Yet now, the one man who seemed to show genuine interest in her remained a mystery and couldn’t possibly be the man she wanted.

Lori nibbled on the edge of a cookie and relaxed as the chocolate melted in her mouth. She missed Gracie. Her best friend would know exactly what to say at a time like this, what to advise, how to cheer her up. They’d talked on the phone a few times since Gracie and Carter’s wedding, but Lori didn’t want to bug her friend on her honeymoon. Thanks to Carter’s wealth from his old life of music-industry fame, they were able to take an extended vacation together and start their marriage off with month-long tans and all the seafood they could eat.

What would Gracie say if she were here? After sharing some chocolate, she’d probably tell Lori to step it up a notch. Dust off her flirting abilities that were stored on a high shelf after her nasty breakup with Jason and get back in the game. If someone was pursuing her, she should pursue right back, even if it wasn’t Andy, aka Mr. Right.

Maybe Mr. Good Enough—whoever he was—would be better than nothing.

Chapter Six

Lori looked up as the bell above the shop door jingled. A boy, maybe ten years old, came inside carrying a gift-wrapped box. He set it on the counter in front of her, scratched his nose and turned to leave.

“Wait!” Lori dropped the supplies catalog she’d been paging through and grabbed for the present. No card or tag. “Who is this from?”

The boy kept going, pausing once to hitch up his baggy jeans. “Don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? How can you not know?”

He turned around at the door and shrugged. “I’m not supposed to say.” He pushed at the handle, and the bell jingled again.

Lori reached over the counter as if she could stop him from across the room. “Wait, I…” Her eyes narrowed, and she smiled. “Want some chocolate?”

The door clicked shut as he made a beeline for the counter.

Lori triumphantly reached under the display and pulled out a caramel-crème chocolate. “Here. Now tell me what you know.”

“Shmm laymie.” Chocolate oozed around the sides of the boy’s mouth as he chomped on the dessert.

“Excuse me?” Lori shoved a napkin toward him.

He swallowed twice. “Some lady. She said not to tell you who.”

A woman? Lori frowned. Obviously it had to be another delivery person working on behalf of her secret admirer—someone she might recognize due to their request for anonymity. But why would Monny send someone to do the work when he could just wait for her to leave the room? She shoved her hair behind her ears and leaned forward. There had to be more to it. “You don’t know her name?”

“Nope. She had blond hair.”

“How old was she?”

The boy shrugged and crumpled the unused napkin in his hand. “Twenty? Maybe younger. Probably older, though. People think I look eight, but I turned eleven last month.”

Lori rocked back on her heels. Great. A wasted chocolate out of her paycheck, and still no information other than the gift was delivered by someone who could fit the description of almost half the women in the city. “All right. Thanks anyway.”

“Thanks for the chocolate, lady.” He grinned, showing caramel stains on his teeth.

“Consider it a late birthday gift.” Lori waited until the kid left before fingering the red ribbon around the box. Why didn’t her admirer just mail the box? Maybe it contained something expensive, something they wanted to be sure arrived safely.

So they entrusted it to an eleven-year-old boy?

Lori shook her head. Only way to find out was to open it. She could do that now, then confront Monny about the gift when he returned from his break. He had to be her secret admirer—there were no other options. After sleeping on her emotional thoughts from last night’s service, Lori decided that Mr. Good Enough wasn’t good enough after all, and she’d rather be alone than lead someone on. Heartbreak, she knew from experience, wasn’t fun for anyone. She would have to be gentle.

Lori’s stomach fluttered in anticipation as she slid the bow off the package and ripped open the cardboard flaps. She rummaged through the piles of packing paper, fingers eagerly searching. Just because she might have to return the gifts after Monny confessed his love didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the process. Her hand hit something soft. With an expectant grin, Lori tugged the item free of the gift wrap.

A stuffed Hershey’s Kiss.

A quick look inside the box confirmed there were a handful of the real chocolate pieces nestled in among the colored tissue—nothing more. A confused frown nestled between Lori’s brows. They worked in an upscale chocolate boutique in the French Quarter, and Manny had sent candy she could have gotten from Wal-Mart? Granted, it was her favorite, but she expected more from someone who made exquisite chocolate every day.

Clutching the little stuffed toy in both hands, Lori turned with determination toward the kitchen. She’d have to help Monny out. Even if she wasn’t interested in dating the handsome Italian, she could at least help him with a few pointers for his next love interest.

It was the least she could do after breaking his heart.

Andy strolled toward the Chocolate Gator, anticipation building in his stomach—and it wasn’t about the chocolates he’d soon be consuming. No, in just a few minutes, he’d see Lori face-to-face, and she’d thank him for the gift he’d sent.

He picked up his step and whistled a little tune. A street artist nodded in greeting as he passed, and Andy paused long enough to toss a quarter into the open guitar case of a performing musician. He couldn’t be happier—his idea was genius. After seeing the Hershey’s Kisses, Lori would have to put two and two together and realize he was her admirer. After all, he was the one who kept the bowl of Kisses on his desk at work, the bowl she visited frequently. Who else supplied her with a constant stream of chocolate at the church? Plus, the gift was cute—borderline corny. Subtle, and yet obvious at the same time. In other words, perfect.

His breath tightened as he walked. Only two more store-fronts and he’d be under the Chocolate Gator’s pink-and-black-striped awning. Andy’s stomach swished with nerves, and he paused to check his hair in the reflection of a store window. He really should get it cut, but he looked so young with his forehead showing. He swiped at a stubborn cowlick with his fingers.

Andy’s cell rang, and his heart jumped like an old man caught dozing during church. Maybe it was Lori, calling to tell him she’d figured out his secret identity. With a smile, he flipped open the cell. “I was just heading to see you—”

“You’ll have an awfully long swim if you do.” The familiar deep voice of his friend Carter chuckled through the line.

“Carter!” Andy dropped onto a nearby bench. Andy’s musician best friend had recently married Lori’s friend Gracie. Andy liked to think he had a little something to do with the perfect match. After all, he and Carter were college roommates and Gracie had been a part of Andy’s church long before Carter showed back up in her life. Andy grinned. “How’s the sun and sand?”

“Both are pretty hot.” A female voice chimed in on Carter’s end of the line, and he laughed. “And so is my new wife, of course.”

Andy snorted. “Don’t make me hang up on you. Haven’t ya’ll had enough alone time yet?”

“Never. Marriage is the best, man. I highly recommend it.”

“So does Pastor Mike.” Andy quickly filled Carter in on what had transpired over the last week.

“Wow, no pressure, huh?” Carter clucked his tongue. “So who’s the unlucky girl?”

“Funny.”

“You know I’ve got to give you a hard time. You gave me enough flak about Gracie.”

“How about some helpful advice? You can tease me after the wedding.”

“Deal.” Carter paused. “Wedding? So there is a girl?”

Andy immediately sobered. If he told Carter whom he had in mind, Gracie would know minutes after. Gracie was Lori’s best friend. Her knowing Andy’s feelings toward Lori would possibly help—or seriously hurt if she didn’t approve. He swallowed. “Someone you know pretty well.”

“Just spit it out, man. We’re about to go on a glass-bottom boat ride.” He whispered something to Gracie about tickets, then stopped short. “You didn’t finally come to your senses about Lori, did you?”

Andy opened his mouth, then closed it. Had he been that obvious to everyone but himself in the last year or two?

“It’s Lori, isn’t it? She’s the one!” Andy couldn’t tell if Carter’s voice held excitement or shock. Maybe both. He stood and began to pace the sidewalk, narrowly dodging a little boy on a skateboard. That would make sense—it was exactly how Andy felt, too.

“Hold on. Gracie wants to talk to you.”

Andy’s stomach rolled, and he gripped the cell tighter in his sweaty palm.

“Andy? Are you serious?” Gracie’s melodic voice traveled from the Gulf as clearly as if she sat beside him. “You’re interested in Lori?”

“Yes?” It came out more like a question, and he cleared his throat. “I mean, yes. I am.”

She squealed so loudly he jerked the phone away from his ear, heart pounding louder than the guy playing the bongo drums on the corner. “It’s about time!”

He dropped back onto the empty bench and exhaled. “Thanks, I think.”

“How was your first date? I can’t believe she hasn’t called me!”

“There actually hasn’t been one.”

A pause hovered over the line. “She doesn’t know how you feel, does she?”

“Not yet.” He told her about the gifts he’d sent. “I was just on my way to see her at the shop, and I bet she’ll have it figured out by the time I get there.”

“Because of a Hershey’s Kiss?” Gracie laughed. “Andy, it’s a sweet thought, but Lori begs, borrows or buys chocolate from a dozen different people and places. I think you’re going to have to be more obvious if you want to be discovered. Although it’s pretty silly to keep up this secret-admirer facade in the first place, if you ask me.”

“You don’t think I should do it?”

“I just think you should give Lori a fair shot at accepting you for who you are. You might be surprised.”

“Has she said something about me before?” Andy leaned forward and braced his elbows against his knees. The same skateboarding kid rolled back by, the wheels scraping loudly on the concrete. Andy turned his head to better hear Gracie’s answer, anticipation hovering like a little child around a beignet.

“Well, no. Not exactly. But why the secrecy?”

Andy opened his mouth to explain, but Carter’s muffled voice on the other end of the line interrupted. “Gracie, we’re going to miss the tour if we don’t leave now.”

A scuffling sounded, as if Gracie had clamped her hand over the receiver. “Just a second, this is important.” She returned to the phone. “Andy, we’ve got to go. Listen, just take it slowly, but don’t be afraid to tell her what’s in your heart, okay?”

“Okay.” He said goodbye and disconnected the call. His agreement to Gracie’s suggestion still lingered on his lips, but its meaning didn’t settle in his gut. He knew what he was doing. There was no way Lori would be responsive to his stating right out that he had feelings for her. She’d be shocked—and not in a good way. They’d been close friends for so long now she’d probably never thought of him as anything other than her best friend. Even if Lori was mistaking Monny as her secret admirer, he had to keep it up a while longer and ease her into the concept of Andy being boyfriend material.

Make that husband material.

Lori slid a tray of chocolate-dipped marshmallows into the display case. She’d already popped a few into her mouth—taste-testing for the customer’s sake, of course—and now she wanted to eat the whole pan. She needed fortification if she intended to confront Monny about being her secret admirer. She’d tried earlier in the afternoon, but he’d been intensely focused on icing a special-order cake, and she hadn’t wanted to distract him. That’d just be one more thing she would mess up.

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