against him. But a week later he’d knocked on her front door and asked if she could come out to play. He’d carried a walking stick that he’d carved and painted with his father’s help over one shoulder with a pillowcase tied to the end of it, packed full of supplies for their expedition. She’d thought he’d looked like a real explorer standing on her front porch, his shaggy hair hanging in his eyes, worn jeans with a hole in the knee, and hiking boots that were too big because he’d outgrown his own and borrowed Beau’s. And in that raspy voice, he’d said, Come on an adventure, Carls. You’re the only one who can keep up with me. Her mother was right. Even the memory of that day made her heart feel heavy and full.
The bells above the front door to the shop jangled, drawing Carly from her thoughts.
“Carly? I’m sorry I’m late!” Birdie called out as she rushed through the shop toward the kitchen, stopping to peek at herself in a mirror on the wall.
Birdie was Carly’s right hand in all things chocolate-shop related, including managing Quinn Finney, who worked part time. Her mind moved in seventeen directions at once, which might drive some people crazy, but Carly loved that about her. Birdie’s brilliant mind worked wonders, coming up with social media posts and holiday events that lured in throngs of customers. Carly used to be that fast-thinking, up-for-anything girl. She had been the spontaneous, pushy, yang to Tory’s careful, organized yin. It never failed to boggle her mind how much she’d changed since Tory’s death. She’d become the careful, organized yin, and she felt lucky to have Birdie, her rambunctious, ever-energetic yang.
“I went to the Roadhouse last night with Quinn and Sasha, and you know how it is once I get on that mechanical bull,” Birdie called out from within the shop, turning her head this way and that as she looked in the mirror. Sasha was her older sister, and the Roadhouse was a biker bar where their family hung out. “I know you’re an only-Wednesday-night girl, but you would have had so much fun last night!” she called out as she leaned closer to inspect her eyes in the mirror. Carly went to the Roadhouse every Wednesday night to spend time with Birdie’s family.
Birdie flitted into the kitchen carrying a number of shopping bags in each hand, her wild dark hair flying over her bare shoulders. She stopped abruptly. “Whoa. Did we get orders I don’t know about?”
Carly twisted a gold tie around a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels and said, “Nope. What’s in the bags?”
“Oh, these?” She held them up, grinning as she sauntered through the kitchen. “We went by Karma’s boutique before going to the bar, and I picked up the cutest thank-you cards to send to the people who take the class tonight. We have five spots filled, by the way, but I have a good feeling that we’ll fill the sixth today.” They held monthly chocolatier classes, and Birdie was always picking up little extras for the participants. “Anyway, I had to get you a few cute outfits since if I don’t give you three weeks’ notice and mark a spot on your carefully planned schedule, you refuse to pry yourself away from those mind-numbing documentaries to go shopping. Wait until you see what I got you! I’ll show you after I help get all this food under control.”
If it weren’t for Birdie, Carly would live in her Divine Intervention shirts and Daisy Dukes all summer, like the ones she was currently wearing. Birdie had a fashion sense all her own, as proven by the circa 1980s off-the-shoulder ruffled dress she had on, but she was usually careful to choose less outlandish outfits for Carly.
Carly watched with amusement as Birdie carried the bags into the office, rambling about riding the mechanical bull longer than any of the guys at the bar.
Five, four, three, two—
“The wedding!” Birdie exclaimed, running out of the office. “Oh my gosh! How was it? All this chocolate either means you had out-of-this-world sex with Zev or something bad. Really bad.” She hurried over to Carly, took her by the wrist, and dragged her away from the counter. “Spill, woman!”
Carly tried to assemble her thoughts. “It was—”
“Tell me everything. From the first second you saw him right down to the last! Did you do our plan? Did it work? You wore the dress, right?”
“Can I talk now?” Carly teased.
“Yes!