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King Day,” the redhead informed her.
    “Oh, yes.” No holidays for business owners. “Would you like a sample?”
    “Yes!” the boys shouted. The kid with brown hair added, “Please.”
    She retrieved a few pieces of fudge and handed them to the boys, along with two of her business cards. “We’ll be open next month. Tell your folks.”
    “Okay!”
    The boys started to leave when the brown-haired kid said, “Sorry about hitting your window with the snowball.”
    She looked over where a streak of icy water ran down the pane.
    “But it didn’t break,” the redhead said.
    “That’s all good, then,” she said.
    She leaned against the door after she closed it. They’d been nice kids—most in Missoula were—the kind of kids she hoped to have someday.
    Sue Anne did want love and a family. Someday. But first she wanted to do something meaningful with her life. Not that a husband and kids weren’t meaningful. They were. But she wanted something bigger first. Then she’d settle down.
    Maybe with someone like that sexy airport guy.
    Nope. Even if she was open to a relationship, which she definitely wasn’t, he was all wrong for her. Too serious. Jeez he was a cop and firefighter, as well as a security guard and medic. Each one of those occupations was intense. Combined, the effect was lethal.
    All she wanted to do was fill the world with joy—one chocolate at a time.
    He needed to strong-arm terrorists and save old people from themselves. From what she’d seen so far, he was far too sober for her life plan, although there had been a few times when it seemed like he had a sense of humor—something a man would definitely need to get along with Sue Anne.
    Her teenage years at home with her mother had been kind of grim and desperate. Her mother had been determined to make her into a Texas debutant. She was equally hell-bent on getting a college degree before even thinking about an MRS.
    Their intentions were so opposite, she could count on one thing every Christmas: nothing on the list she’d written out would be under the Christmas tree.
    When she started college, she’d read a quote by Abraham Lincoln: “Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.”
    Right then and there, she’d decided she was going to be happy.
    Somehow, she couldn’t see Zach fitting into her blissful bubble, no matter how wonderful his kiss.
    They were simply not right for each other.
    She pushed herself away from the door and headed back for the kitchen.
    After another layer of chocolate, they put the molds back into the freezer.
    “Are we going to make heart-shaped ones for Valentine’s?” Julie asked.
    “Yep. That reminds me. I need to make a run to the party store and Michaels. We’ve got to start decorating the store and put up a sign announcing we’re opening in February. It’s only three weeks away, and we’re nowhere near ready.”
    Panic fluttered in her stomach.
    In spite of her optimism, would she regret her gamble?
    • • •
    Zach slipped the bar back into the rack with satisfaction. He’d upped his weight and still managed the same number of reps. He sat up and stretched his arms and back. His body felt good, and he liked it that way.
    He was no longer the chubby kid who’d been picked last for gym games, although it hadn’t mattered until he’d reached high school and a fascination with the opposite sex descended on him. Even then, his sweet tooth and shyness had prevented him from doing much about it. If he looked good, then he would have had to act on his desires. It was easier to read a book, a can of pop in his hand and a bag of jellybeans next to him, than to ask a girl out.
    The one time he’d taken the chance, the girl had rolled her eyes with an “are you real?” look and told him she wouldn’t waste her time with him.
    Then his younger brother, Dave, hit high school. Dave was a smart, good-looking Iowa jock, chosen for varsity football in his freshman year. The girls