Page 29 of The Perfect Blend
He cleared his throat, “It certainly sounds like something I could really…” He looked at the chocolate, and then his gaze fell back to me, focusing on my lips before flicking up to meet my eyes, “enjoy.”
The excitement and anticipation which had been sparking between us as we flirted now roared into a fully fledged fire, and I couldn't suppress my grin. Oh, but this was so muchfun.
I next walked him through the stages of making a mocha, stopping to allow him to taste each stage, and walking through the different house blends at the same time. For the mocha, I used the one I had specifically chosen to compliment the hot chocolate.
At the end of the session, I took him and his completed drink to sit in the cosiest nook at the back. It was hidden from the front of the shop, and had warm lighting that I knew did wonders for my skin. If I ever needed a selfie, this was my go to location.
“There you go,” I said. “Time for the final verdict.”
“And what if I don’t like it?” Zach inquired, leaning casually back against the booth. “Will I be ejected from your shop, never to return?”
I nodded seriously, “Banished. I will never speak to you again and if I see you in the street, I will just pretend you’re not there.”
“A cruel fate,” he said with a smile.
“Worthy of a man who can’t appreciate my coffee.”
Zach winced. “Ouch,” he said, picking up the cup. He inhaled slightly. I knew what he was smelling. Heaven. Some people just needed a serving of chocolate to sweeten their coffee. I considered a mocha a gateway coffee. Some of my regulars had started out on mochas, but once coffee came into your life there was no going back.
He took a sip and closed his eyes. He took another. I watched the column of his throat interrupted by his Adam's apple as he swallowed and held back from licking my own lips.
“That,” he said finally, opening his eyes and staring into mine, “was the best I ever had.”
A small thrill ran through me at the return to our flirting. “Of course it is,” I said. “I’m soverygood at what I do.”
“Oh, you are. You’re a wonder, Robin Bell,” he said.
I pressed my lips together in an attempt to hide my pleased smile at his words.
“Can we say that this is a success?” I asked. “Have we found your perfect match?”
“I think we just might have,” he smiled, and my heart stuttered. I silently warned it that flirting was one thing, but that it was far too early in the game for it to start losing its rhythm.
“I hope so,” I murmured softly, and we were both silent for a gentle, intimate moment.
I think, early as it was, I was well and truly falling for Zach Spencer.
Maybe, he was falling for me too.
It felt like a fairytale day. Heroines overcame great challenges, heroes swooped in to lend a chivalrous hand and the magic of coffee sparked delicious tension, causing new romance to blossom. With the day going perfectly and a smile permanently etched onto my face, I forgot all about the weird text from Sophia, the cryptic warnings from the old gentleman in the pub, and was lulled into the hope that we were heading towards our happily ever after.
Chapter Eleven
“Hello, Mum,” I whispered. The wind teased my hair from its ponytail and left cold kisses on my nose. At the top of the graveyard, above the church, with the village spread out below, there were beautiful views of the surrounding hills, but a bit more wind than down with the living. Beanie’s fur ruffled in the breeze as she padded between the gravestones.
“It’s getting colder these days, though no sign of snow just yet. I’m still holding out for a white Christmas, of course. You know I love those as much as you.” I rested a gloved hand on the shiny marble of the headstone. The cold immediately started leeching the warmth from my fingertips. I tried to tell myself it was warmer in the ground, but tears still pricked at my eyes.
“I hope everything’s well wherever you are. I miss you.” I slipped my fingers down past the names of the grandparents I barely remembered, and gently traced the familiar letters of the woman I was here to see, chiselled into the stone and lined in gold.
And also their beloved daughter
Joanne Bell
Cherished Wife, Mother and Sister
‘Sleep on now, and take your rest.’ Matthew 26:45
It had been three years since Mum had died, and what they said was true. The pain, the hole in your heart, it never passed. You just learned to live with it. She’d known she was going to die and, in typical Mum fashion, had taken care of everything. Planned her own funeral, gravestone, even ordered her own flowers. She’d actually gone as far as to book both me and Dad in with a grief counsellor, which had made me both laugh and cry when I’d found out.
