I know you hate chocolate, but even you would love it.” Kimberly went on chatting with Elyse as Eva said goodbye and slipped from the room, pain wrenching her chest.
Hot chocolate. Even the mere mention of it made her think of him.
Angela had said Marc was just as miserable as she was. The thought had spurred Eva to almost contact him several times during the last month. But she didn’t want to start something again that her heart wasn’t ready to see through. Not again. She couldn’t do that to him.
You’re ready now.
She nearly stopped in her tracks. The whisper had come from somewhere deep in her soul.
And she knew it to be true.
As she headed down the elevator from the penthouse, Eva whipped out her phone and searched Google Maps. She copied an address into a fresh text message, along with the words, Meet me in fifteen?
The elevator doors opened on the bottom floor, and she stepped out as a return message dinged.
Okay.
A brief response, but that was all right. He was coming.
Nerves flitted through her, but she felt the rightness in it all. She walked past the doorman and made her way to Elyse’s little bakery, open for another hour today.
Eva entered and waited in line. The bakery was adorably French in décor, and crowded to boot, but when she caught a glimpse of the baked goods lining the display case, she could understand why. Brownies, gorgeous cakes, and unique cookies were only the beginning. The neatly arranged case also exhibited an array of high-end pastries, some of which Eva couldn’t identify without the small placard in front of them.
But she hadn’t come here for any of those.
When it was her turn, she ordered a drink, then found a seat once served. Finally, she took a tentative sip.
Blech.
Still as awful as ever.
Oh no. This just wouldn’t do.
After checking the time, she hurried to the cashier and asked him to surprise her. A peach tea was delivered into her hands, and when she sat down and tasted it, flavor exploded on her tongue.
And color . . . at last it burst all around her. Eva couldn’t help the tear that fell from her eye.
Just as she swiped it away, Marc slipped into the chair next to her. “Hi.” He folded his hands together on top of the table.
She breathed in the sight of him. He’d let his beard grow back and was once again dressed in pressed slacks and a button-up shirt. Eva had gotten so used to seeing him rumpled and unshaven—so casual—like he’d been during the ultra-marathon. Of course, she liked this too.
She just liked him.
Loved him.
So tell him. Right.
“Hi.” Eva set down her cup. “Thanks for coming.”
Marc watched her, intense emotions playing across his features. What was he thinking? “How are you, Eva?”
“I ordered a hot chocolate.” Smooth as always. Oy.
Surprise and questions mixed in his eyes. “I thought you hated it.”
“Actually, I do. I thought I could make myself like it, and I tried, but nope.”
“Okay.”
She was totally blundering this. “But then I got a peach tea. And I found it refreshing and delightful.”
“Uh, good for you?” Now he was just plain bewildered. “Why am I here, Eva?”
“All right, so I had this whole speech prepared—well, I kind of came up with it in the last like two minutes. But anyway, I was hoping I could tell you that my tastes have changed, that I like both hot chocolate and coffee, that I don’t have to choose one over the other. That they can both be part of my life and I’m only sorry I didn’t see it sooner. But then I hated the hot chocolate, and my analogy was ruined.” She closed the chasm between them and reached out her hand, touching his.
His gaze roamed her face. Finally, his eyes met hers completely. “There’s nothing worse than a ruined analogy.”
“I know, right?”
“So, for the sake of argument, let’s say your analogy had worked out—and you hadn’t completely despised the best drink that ever existed. What would we really be talking about?”
“I think you know the answer to that. At least, I hope you do.”
A full-on grin split his face, and he scooted her chair closer to his, the legs scraping against the tile floor. “And if you had liked the hot chocolate, does that mean I might have persuaded you to one day even love it?” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and watched her with those eyes that saw so much, then retook her hands in his own.
“If I had in fact liked it, I would say that there would be no persuasion needed.” Eva leaned in, bringing her lips to linger just in front of his. “That the finer qualities of hot chocolate had me head over heels from the first sip.”
Then her lips met his, and Eva Jamison knew without a doubt that a brand-new adventure awaited her if she just kept moving forward.