Read Bliss and the Art of Forever (A Hope Springs Novel) for Free Online

as the door slid up, that she needed to replace the lightbulb.
    She parked inside. She turned off the car. She climbed out.
    He cut the bike’s engine, and she turned into the stillness, her steps in sync with the beat of her heart and loud on the driveway’s concrete. She should tell him thank you. Tell him good-bye. But those weren’t the words she found tumbling into her mouth as she walked to where he straddled his bike.
    “Would you like to come in? I can make you an espresso. Or I have Tia Maria. And illyquore. I don’t think I have any Kahlúa, though I could open a bottle of wine . . .” And then she stopped because all she was doing was rambling about coffee liqueurs, and because he was standing now, and swinging his leg over the seat.
    “I’ll pass on the alcohol, but will take you up on the caffeine. I’ve got a long night ahead.”
    She answered with a nod and reentered the garage. Callum followed, and once he was inside, she hit the switch to lower the door. It creaked down behind him, and the last thing she saw before she was swallowed up by the darkness was the silhouette of his heavy boots moving toward her.
    Clearing her throat of the nerves tickling there, she felt for the deadbolt and unlocked it, flipping on the lights as she stepped inside. She was across the room, having hit the button to heat the water in the espresso maker, when Callum closed the door.
    “Do you work through the night often?” she asked, pushed to fill the silence. Being alone with him was trouble enough. Being alone with him in her kitchen . . .
    The espresso maker hissed and steamed, then pounded the water through the capsule’s packed grind. “Only a couple of times a year. Valentine’s Day. Christmas. Oh, and Mother’s Day, so three. I lucked out with Halloween. I’m too expensive. Though I do make some outstanding sugar skulls for the Day of the Dead.”
    What she wanted to know was how he’d fallen into making candy. What she said instead was, “I’ve got sugar and cream. Or I can steam milk and pour it in.”
    “I’m good with straight up,” he said, then a grin pulled his mouth sideways. “Or ‘yucky like dirt’ as Addy calls it.”
    “How did you two end up in Hope Springs?” Two , because she was not going to ask about Adrianne’s mother. “I know your parents live in town but I’ve always wondered if they played a part in your decision to open Bliss here.”
    He leaned against the counter beside her, his arms crossed. “You’ve wondered about me? Always?”
    She was going to have to watch what she said around this one, she mused, handing him the tiny cup, the layer of crema atop the coffee visible through the clear glass, then gestured toward a chair at the table.
    He took the cup from her hand, then took a seat while she made herself a latte. When she joined him, she’d found enough of her wits to answer. “I teach your daughter. I’ve met your parents. You’re a famous chocolatier and you operate from the Texas Hill Country. Of course I’ve wondered about you.”
    There. He couldn’t possibly pick through her response and find anything to tease her with. Could he?
    He sat sideways to the table and he crossed his legs, his elbows braced on the chair arms, his drink held with the fingers of both hands as if he were playing an instrument. He made for such an incongruous picture. The GQ elegance of his posture. His Sons of Anarchy garb. His messy Heathcliff hair.
    His hands were so large around the tiny espresso cup, and she thought about the delicate work he did with those long fingers, the exquisite chocolates he made. Thought about him running a brush through his daughter’s long blond hair at bedtime. Thought about the children she and Artie had decided together they would never have because of the dangerous work Artie did.
    They’d been right not to start a family, and she didn’t regret their decision at all. How Callum managed on his own . . . then again, he had his parents