her calm, cool, ultra-organized life upside down. She’d almost forgotten the true power of his ravenous and magnificent mouth. It had always been her biggest pleasure—from the things he said, to his kisses, and the way he’d used it in places that made her toes curl.
She flopped into her chair, cursing herself for kissing him last night and knowing she’d do it all over again no matter what the stakes. He was the king of kisses. Even her favorite documentaries hadn’t taken her mind off them last night.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she typed an email to the supplier of the European chocolate her client preferred. She wiggled in her seat, trying to get used to the thong she’d been forced to wear. She hated thongs. Sunday night was her laundry night, and she’d been so flustered after kissing Zev, she had completely forgotten about that, too. If not for Birdie’s shopping trip, she would’ve had to wear dirty shorts. It was times like these when she wished she were a clothes hoarder like most women. But Carly had never been big on owning too much of anything. Birdie was forever teasing her about being the only woman business owner who was proud of being able to fit all of her clothes in one suitcase, and still fit in her clothes from when she was twenty. Carly still had T-shirts from every concert she and Zev had attended, and according to Birdie, she wore them all too often. She’d always been a utilitarian. It was one of the first things she and Zev had realized they had in common. They used to dream about living in a van and being able to pick up and travel on a whim.
But there were no whims in the world of a chocolatier.
She glanced at her to-do lists and the calendar sitting beside her computer, as if she needed proof that her business revolved around plans, not whims. Her week was outlined by task, day, and hour on the master list hanging behind her desk. Two more detailed lists itemized the lesser duties that had to be carried out on a daily or weekly basis, and those resided on her desk. All of the bigger events and orders for the summer were highlighted in pink on her calendar, proof of how far she’d come and how well she ran the business.
Carly had been slightly jealous when Marie had first told her of her plans to go adventuring. But that jealousy had been accompanied by thoughts of Zev, and Carly had pushed it aside and thrown all of her energy into the business. Marie had enjoyed her downtime as much as her time at work and had earned a steady stream of income that she’d been happy with. She hadn’t had aspirations to take the business to the next level. But when she gave the business to Carly, Carly had different plans. She wanted to prove to her aunt that she was worthy of her trust, but she also needed to prove to herself that she didn’t need the dreams she’d left behind. She’d outlined goals of taking on more events each year and had strategized new marketing plans, which Birdie had since tweaked and perfected. She’d dedicated herself to the business, putting in long hours seven days a week, and had far surpassed her goals.
She wasn’t about to let all that fall apart because of Zev Kisser Extraordinaire Braden.
Trying to ignore the hitch in her chest, she finished typing an apologetic and slightly pleading email requesting a rush delivery for the chocolate. Before ordering supplies for the festival, she double-checked inventory and previously placed orders. Once that was taken care of, she worked through the rest of her emails, returned phone calls, and finally she searched her office top to bottom for her phone. Coming up empty, she looked high and low in the kitchen, relieved to see Birdie had made their special Monday truffles and treats. Maybe showing up late wouldn’t make for a crazy day after all. If only she could find her phone…
She made her way up front. The shop was quiet, which was unusual for a Monday, but Carly was thankful to have a moment to breathe. “Sorry I was so late. I can’t find my phone anywhere, so I had no alarm.”
Birdie opened a drawer and pulled out Carly’s phone. “I found it in the pantry.”
“The pantry?” Carly took it, trying to remember when she might have