Texas Christmas

No, she was okay...she breathed in deeply. Sometimes the smell of chocolate worked better than Xanax.

This morning, she’d been drawn to the shop like a bee to a flower... Well, more like a chocoholic drawn to the best darn chocolate in the world.

As Maya appeared through the part in the deep cranberry-colored brocade curtains that concealed the back of the shop from the front of the house, she wiped her fingertips on a white linen tea towel.

“Ah! Bonjour, Pepper! I thought that might be you.” She set the cloth on the counter, then briskly brushed her hands together, beaming a gigantic smile as radiant as the French summer sun. The simple gesture warmed Pepper from the inside out.

“Good morning!” Pepper swiped at a wisp of blond hair that the earlier gust of wind had blown out of place.

“What brings you out on this cold, blustery day, mon amie?” Maya stepped from behind the counter and greeted her friend with kisses on both cheeks. “Regardless, I am so happy to see you. You don’t need a reason to pay me a visit. I will get you some hot chocolate to help warm you up, oui?”

Before Pepper could answer, the redhead had turned and was already heading to the small burner behind the case where she prepared the warm, rich beverages.

“Maya, what is that floral scent I smell in here this morning?”

Maya whipped around to look at Pepper and tilted her head to the side, a curious little grin lifting the edges of her mouth. “You can smell that?”

Pepper nodded. “Yes. It sort of smells like...roses.”

Maya set down the copper bottom saucepan she was holding. “One moment, I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared behind the purple curtain, only to return quickly with a rectangular pink-and-black box tied with black ribbon—her shop’s signature packaging.

Maya’s eyes sparkled as she held it out to Pepper. “These are for you, my dear.”

It was Pepper’s turn to gaze at Maya curiously. “Well, thank you. Actually, I have come to purchase some chocolate. But not for myself. It’s for friends. Back home.” Pepper took a deep breath as she stared down at the pretty box. Finally, she squared her shoulders. “Maya, I’m leaving. I’ve actually come to say goodbye.”

Maya responded with a resolute nod, but Pepper sensed her stoic mask hid something else. She could see a certain glint in her friend’s eyes.

She shrugged it off, however, chalking it up to her own sadness and uncertainty.

“So, that means if I come home without a suitcase full of treasures from your shop, I will be run out of town on a rail.” She shrugged again and a little hiccup of a laugh escaped before she could stop it. “Although others may run me out of town anyway, but I’ll put up a valiant fight to stay. And possibly bribe them with chocolate.”

She grimaced. Perhaps bribe wasn’t such a good word choice since her family name was implicated in a financial scandal.

Since Pepper’s father had never been to St. Michel, the small European principality had been a good sanctuary for her and her mother. When they were here, they were surrounded by good people and good friends. They were staying with Pepper’s boarding school buddy, Margeaux Broussard Lejardin, whose sister-in-law just happened to be the queen of St. Michel.

Despite the scandal, Margeaux had welcomed them with open arms, insisting they stay as long as they liked in the small two-bedroom guest cottage on the grounds of the estate where she lived with her husband, Henri.

But it was time to go home. Even Maya seemed to understand that.

“Mon amie, as much as I would love for you to stay in St. Michel permanently, I’ve said all along that you have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to fear. You should not let narrow-minded people convict you for a crime you did not commit.”

Pepper nodded, fighting the protective impulse that was bubbling up inside her, the part of her that wanted to defend her father—wanted to make sure that Maya wasn’t implying that her dad was guilty. He hadn’t been to trial yet, and Pepper would maintain that he was innocent until proven otherwise. But Maya had been a dear friend and because of that, Pepper checked the urge to ask the woman to clarify what she meant.

Instead, she said, “That’s why it’s time for me to go. But first I need chocolate, Maya. No matter how broke a girl is, she should always treat herself to the best chocolate in the world.”

Maya’s smile returned. “Of course, my lovely. But before we tend to that task, I want you to take a look inside the box I just gave you.”

Carefully, Pepper untied the black organza ribbon that adorned the package. As she lifted the lid, revealing a dozen white truffles dusted with dried flowers and gold dust, the unmistakable rose scent she’d smelled earlier wafted out, making her mouth water and her heart beat a little faster.

“Maya, these are beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. I made them just for you. A going-away present.”

Pepper smiled. “But you didn’t know I was leaving until just a moment ago.”

The glimmer had returned to Maya’s eyes again, and for a split second Pepper wondered if somehow her friend had, in fact, known before she’d told her. But that would be impossible. Wouldn’t it?

“Yes, but I knew you were leaving sometime, my dear friend. Pepper, you have too much to offer. Keeping yourself locked away from the world is the crime. Let these chocolates be symbolic of everything sweet, rich and passionate that you deserve in your life. When you take the first bite of this chocolate, I want you to hold in your mind a picture of your heart’s desire and then go out there and claim it for your own.”

Outside, the wind resumed its ominous song, and the shop’s sign danced along in perfect time. From where Pepper stood next to the window, she had a clear view of the midnight-blue placard with its crackled paint and golden lettering: Maya’s Chocolates ~ Happily Ever After Starts Here.

An odd sensation coursed through her veins and she glanced down at the box in her hands, full of Maya’s beautiful handiwork.

Why not?

Maya nodded. “Try one.”

Pepper picked up a truffle and made a wish for her very own happily-ever-after.

Chapter Two

The flight from Paris barely made it to the gate at JFK International Airport in time for Pepper to go through customs, recheck her luggage and catch her connecting flight home. Delays leaving Charles De Gaulle Airport out of Paris had cut it dangerously close for her to catch the red-eye home. Yet, luck was on her side. She was one of the last passengers to board the plane bound for the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport.

Once onboard, she struggled to stash her carry-on in the overhead compartment, astounded that there was still space available at this late hour. Thank goodness Ethan had purchased her a ticket in business class where the seats were generous and they weren’t packed in like sardines.

The man who was sitting in the seat directly below the compartment she was claiming tossed the black cowboy hat he’d been holding on his lap onto the seat next to him, stood while doing an agile bend and dip to avoid whacking his head on the overhead console and unfolded to his full height in front of her.

“Here, let me help you with that, ma’am.”

Ma’am? Only because she detected a slight Texas twang in his speech did she not take offense to him calling her ma’am. Instead, she chose to think, What a gentleman.

“Thank you,” she said as she looked up into brown eyes as dark and rich as Maya’s chocolates. They contrasted sharply with his spiky, sandy-blond hair. Good-looking guy. Polite, too, she thought.

And he was tall. Very tall. Probably six-four. The big, manly cowboy variety, with long, jean-clad legs and broad shoulders that flexed underneath his blue oxford cloth shirt as he lifted and stowed the bag in one fluid motion.

Pepper forced her gaze from the delicious show of muscles and strength, scooted past him and picked up the man’s cowboy hat before she tucked herself into the seat next to the window. When she’d settled herself and glanced out the window she breathed a sigh of relief. Not only had she made the connecting flight, but she was back on U.S. soil. No one in the New York airport had hassled her. Of course, along her sprint to get from customs to her Dallas-bound flight she hadn’t paused long enough for anyone to recognize her and not that anyone would in New York. But it was highly possible that anyone on board this flight might realize she was Harris Merriweather’s daughter and start something.

But so far so good. Keeping her face toward the window, she heaved another sigh of relief.

It was good to be home. Or almost, anyway.

“Sorry, I’ll take that from you,” the male voice said.

When Pepper looked, he was motioning to the hat.

“Oh, right, here you go,” she said. “And thanks again for helping me stash the suitcase.”