She pulled open the door, and Cowboy stilled, an immovable mountain. He looked Carly dead in the eyes and said, “You sure you’ve got this?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said far more confidently than she felt. Her eyes drifted to Zev, and a smug grin spread across his face. She realized she was playing with her stupid earring again and dropped her hand, wishing she could tie it down.
“Let’s go, Cowboy,” Birdie said loudly. “Damsel in distress here. My car needs fixing.” She moved behind him and shoved him out the door, calling over her shoulder, “Class list is in the drawer. See you tomorrow. Have fun!”
“Your taste in men sure has changed,” Zev said with a playful look in his eyes, closing the distance between them. “Do you have an open relationship with him, too?”
Carly struggled to keep a straight face. “Why would I limit myself to just one boyfriend when there are so many buff cowboys around here?”
“What’d you do, put out an ad in the local newspaper?”
Without thinking, she fell back on their storytelling days. “Actually, he rescued me. My car broke down, and suddenly there he was, sitting on a big, beautiful white horse. He fixed my car just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “He followed me home, and I climbed onto his horse, and we rode off into the sunset. The rest is history.”
Zev stepped closer, electricity sparking between them. Her breathing quickened, and she tried to reel it in. But she missed this. She missed him. She wanted to keep up the storytelling, to build a tale they both wanted to continue, like old times. But that was dangerous. The line between playing and touching had always blurred fast for them, like wicks of dynamite igniting, unstoppable and explosive.
“It’s hard to believe the woman who used to get jealous if a girl asked me for a ride home would have an open relationship with any man, much less two.” He paused just long enough for that truth to make her chest ache.
Was there anything he didn’t remember about her?
“That makes about as much sense as the woman who despises milk chocolate working in a chocolate shop, Carls.”
His tone was warm, as if basking in good memories. She hadn’t always despised milk chocolate. When they were in fourth grade, they’d stolen and eaten an entire bag of chocolate bars from her parents’ pantry, and she was sick all night. He’d begged his parents to let him spend the night so he could help her feel better. But since they’d stolen the chocolates, his parents must have known the worst punishment was keeping them apart, and they hadn’t allowed him to stay over. Carly hadn’t been able to stand the taste of milk chocolate ever since. Why did knowing he remembered that make keeping her distance even more difficult?
Trying to climb out from underneath that memory, she forced herself to redirect to the present and said, “I don’t just work here—I own the shop—and I need to get ready for my class. You should get going.”
“That cute little brunette already took my money for the class. Besides, you, me, and melted chocolate? That has fun written all over it. You might not like milk chocolate, but you know I love it. And on you…?” He leaned in, his eyes darkening as he said, “I could eat that all night long.”
She inhaled shakily just as the door to the shop opened and a young couple who had signed up for the class last week walked in. They’d been so touchy-feely, they’d reminded Carly of how close she and Zev used to be. She hadn’t thought much about it at the time—there was always something reminding her of Zev—but now that he was standing right in front of her, it brought those memories rushing in, making her even more nervous.
She forced her attention to the couple and said, “The class is starting in fifteen minutes. Feel free to look around.” Lowering her voice, she said to Zev, “I have to get ready, and if you’re staying, you’ll need to keep your chocolate fantasies to yourself.”
“I never said anything about fantasies.” His lips quirked up. “But it’s good to know where your thoughts have gone.”
The heat in his voice seeped beneath her skin, unearthing all those dark fantasies she pretended didn’t exist. He licked his lips, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her. She struggled to