A Valentine's Wish

She stretched one arm toward the back of the shelf. “No. The pantry.”

“Searching for chocolate, I assume.”

“Funny.” So what if she’d become a little predictable over the years? Lori fumbled around a jar of peanut butter and felt a crinkly wrapper. Maybe a forgotten candy bar? No, just another package of crackers. She let out a huff. Was a little chocolate too much to ask for a girl having one of the worst days of her life?

“Are you all right? I can call back.”

Lori shut the pantry door with a loud click and rested her back against the wooden panels. “I need chocolate.”

“You’re out? How is that possible?”

“Gracie helped me finish the last of my emergency stash.”

“And she didn’t refill?”

“There wasn’t time before the wedding.” She supposed Gracie had more important things on her mind at the time, like planning a honeymoon. Excited as she was for her friend’s new life, Lori couldn’t help the flicker of jealousy in her stomach. Happily-ever-after endings apparently weren’t meant for everyone—her ex, Jason, had proven that point well enough.

She slammed the brakes on her runaway train of negative thoughts. “Look, is there a point to this conversation, or can I finish my desperate search for relief now?”

“Ouch. Bad day?”

“Did you not hear me say I’m out of chocolate?” Men. The cute ones cheated, and the funny ones were dense. Take Andy, for example. They’d been practically best friends for how long now—two years? Three? And he’d never once considered Lori as anything more.

Though it was probably for the best. If bitter thoughts of Jason still crept in her subconscious, she wasn’t ready for more. The need for chocolate intensified, and Lori squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe if she pretended hard enough she could—

Andy cleared his throat. “How about I bring over some chocolate doughnuts? I have something I need to talk to you about.”

Lori stopped the no from automatically rolling off her tongue. She preferred to indulge in her chocolate bad moods by herself, but without the chocolate, the bad-mood part sounded pretty lonely. “Fine. See you in twenty.”

“You’re late.” Lori snatched the box of doughnuts from Andy’s hands and left him to shut the front door of her town house. Hopefully, the smile she flashed softened her short words. She didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but she had yet to consume any chocolate. She’d be nice after the sugar melted in her system.

Lori ripped two napkins free from the stand and tossed one in Andy’s general direction as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “Thanks, by the way.” She ripped open the box and inhaled the warm chocolate scent. Finally.

“I only brought a dozen. Hope that’s enough.” Andy’s cheeky grin didn’t even bother Lori as the sugar dissolved on her tongue. Bliss. She reached for a second.

“You know, some people might call this constant craving of yours an addiction.” He plucked a pastry from the box and tore it in half before stuffing one piece in his mouth. Chocolate smeared down the side of his clean-shaven jaw.

“You tell me this like I’m supposed to care.” She grinned back and licked her fingers, deciding not to tell him about the mess on his face. Call it revenge for that time she volunteered at the youth service and unknowingly wore a dot of whipped cream on the end of her nose for two hours.

Andy snorted and tossed a swoop of blond hair out of his eyes. “It’s a miracle you don’t weigh a ton. Even my youth group doesn’t eat like this.”

Lori patted her flat stomach. “Good genes. Now, did you come here to discuss my appetite, or was there something else?” She went for another doughnut, dodging Andy’s attempt to swat her hand. Forget endorphins from exercise. This was much easier.

Andy swiped his face with his napkin before crumpling it into a ball. “I have a question for you, and ironically, it involves chocolate.”

“Mmm, go on.” At this rate Lori could almost forget her bad day. Should she go for a fourth? Her stomach rolled a negative answer, and she quickly tucked the lid back into the corners of the box. Breakfast for tomorrow—hopefully Andy didn’t think he was taking any of these babies home with him.

Andy leaned forward and rested his elbows on the counter. “You remember my aunt Bella?”

“Of course. She owns that chocolate shop in the French Quarter.” Lori hopped onto the bar stool next to Andy. “I’m in there every time I have enough spare change for a chocolate crocodile. Those things are delicious.” Though due to her current unemployed status, spare change might soon be a thing of the past. She sobered.

“Right. Well, she’s had a family emergency. Her sister in Shreveport needs around-the-clock care for a while. She has to leave the store with someone temporarily, and I thought of you when she asked if anyone in the church needed a job.”

Lori raised an eyebrow. “Why me?”

Andy ticked the reasons off on his fingers. “You ran the gift shop at the aquarium for years. You have an associate’s degree in business. And you’re currently unemployed, unless something has changed since you told me yesterday. Besides, she’s got a college student working part-time, so you wouldn’t be thrown in there alone.”

Lori nibbled her bottom lip, tasting the leftover remains of doughnut. Working in a chocolate boutique. It did sound perfect for her—but would her fast metabolism hold up to that much temptation? She squinted. Maybe if she limited herself to one piece a day…

“Lori? Are you still with me, or have you slipped into a doughnut-induced coma?” Andy waved his hand in front of her face.

She slapped his hand away. “I’m debating.”

“Another pro/con list?”

“No, I gave those up after my list suggested it’d be smart to go jogging after eating a double cheeseburger.” For now, anyway. She’d never actually be able to give up her beloved lists.

Andy winced. “Sorry I asked. So?”

So. Working around that rich, tantalizing aroma all day, every day. Bringing joy to people’s faces with bonbons and caramel creams and chocolate-dipped marshmallows…and better yet, distracting herself from the fact she hadn’t had a date in over a year.

Lori smiled. “Count me in.”

“A pie in the face is only funny on TV, Jeremy. Not during church.” Andy tried to keep a straight face as he studied the cream-covered teenage duo in front of him. Tufts of meringue rose from the top of the football player’s dark hair and peaked beside his ears. “In my opinion, you sort of had the payback coming.”

“Ha!” Haley, Jeremy’s off-again, on-again girlfriend, stuck out her tongue. Strawberry-pie filling smeared down the side of her cheek, and one hip remained cocked, a sure sign the little spitfire was mad. She tossed her pastry-streaked braids over her shoulder. “I told you he wouldn’t get me in trouble.”

“On the contrary.” Andy struggled to keep his lips from turning up. He couldn’t laugh in front of them. Two of his favorite youth-group members—but also the two responsible for those silver hairs he found in his sideburns last week. He cleared his throat. “You’re both cleaning up the kitchen in the gym from this little war, and you’re on door-greeting duty for three weeks.”

Relief etched across Jeremy’s tanned features as he relaxed against the door frame. “That seems fair.”

“Did I mention you’re also going to bring dessert to next Wednesday night’s youth service?”

Jeremy’s mouth opened.

“Since this pie was sacrificed on the altar of fun and games, it only seems fair.” Andy crossed his arms over his chest, daring him to argue.

Haley laughed and pointed at Jeremy. “You have to—”

“I meant both of you.”

Her arm fell to her side, and she glared.

“I want it homemade. Together.” That would teach them to get along. “And while you’re at it, why not make it red and white to celebrate the upcoming holiday?” He bit back another smile. Maybe frosting hearts on a few cupcakes would get the two of them back in their disgustingly lovey-dovey yet non-food-throwing stage in time for Valentine’s Day. He definitely didn’t want to deal with two heartbroken teenagers.

Jeremy’s eyes widened with panic. A frown dimpled Haley’s forehead. “Homemade? We can’t—”

“Dishrags are in the drawer beside the fridge. Better get to cleaning.” Andy sat in his chair, ducking his head and dismissing them as he pretended to shuffle through the youth calendar on his desk. He pursed his lips. If they didn’t leave now—