Realms of the Raven - Erotic Romance Author Maura Anderson

Late again, but here it is! I refuse to actually miss a week and haven’t so far. Just been late a bunch lately.

This is the start of my 2nd story in the Hot Comforts Anthology, to be published by ManLove Romance Press in Fall 2008. The other story I’ll have in that anthology is Giving Thanks.

(Archives are on the website, if you want to read the offerings of past weeks)

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Bittersweet
(c) 2008 by Maura Anderson

Brand tucked the last dark chocolate box into the cardboard delivery box. He tapped the lids of the four delivery boxes down and set them carefully on the long table behind the retail counters. Done at last.

Shirley lifted one pierced eyebrow and crossed her arms. The strict schoolmarm chastising look might have been a bit more effective on someone older and less…colorful. Instead he had to fight the urge to break out into laughter as he walked back to get the clipboard with all the order information for her.

“Here’s the order form and it’s already paid. They’re supposed to be picked up by six today.”

“Umm, Brandon, has it escaped your notice that we closed at four? That would be an hour ago?” Now she looked downright annoyed. “Why do you keep letting people talk you into rush orders and weird pick up and delivery options?”

“Umm. I’m a sucker?”

Yes, the order for twenty five sex toy candy boxes had kept him late at work for a week but it’s not like he had anywhere else to be. The weather had been too drizzly and rainy to make him want to go for an evening ride and his cats were always happy to see him whenever he arrived. Hell, he didn’t even have to be home to catch his favorite television shows–TiVO had that covered.

This bride was the friend of a friend, too. He couldn’t help it that he still had a soft spot for love. Too bad it wasn’t mutual. No, he didn’t have any time to think of that. Jason and his betrayal was years in the past but the ache still came back.

“You might be a sucker but, Boss, how are you ever going to get a date if you don’t ever get out of here?” Shirley shook her head, setting her currently shaggy green hair into motion. Then she gave him a naughty grin “You could suck something a lot more fun, after all.”

“I don’t need a date, Shirl. And do not set me up with all your friends again. When I want a date, I’ll find my own. Somehow I don’t think discussions on what to suck are something I want to have, thank you.”

She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out before she turned to grab the army bandolier she used as a purse. She started toward the door, then came back to pick up the order clipboard. Damn, he’d have enjoyed teasing her about OCD with lack of follow-through. But she’d remembered and only left after she’d put the papers in the filing basket and the now-empty clipboard on a nail in the project wall in the prep area.

Alone, Brand flipped the lock on the store’s front door and made himself a mocha. The rightly scented steam hit his lungs and he sighed. He loved his store and his edible art but he was really tired. He reached booted foot out and hooked the tall counter stood to drag in to him. Sitting down made him realize how tired his legs and back were today.

It made for a long day when he came in at three a.m. Again.

Maybe he did need a good fuck. The insomnia had grow worse and he kept waking up again and again, thrashing around in bed and thinking far too much.

He’d finally succeeded. The business his relatives thought he’d never succeed in was making a nice profit now. His income was good without having to sell his soul to the corporate world or work in someone else’s space.

Too bad Jason couldn’t see him now.

No. That was the past and it needed to stay in the past. The future needed his attention and he had a great idea for a pomegranite and dark chocolate truffle addition to the aphrodisiac candy series.

He drained the rest of his coffee and refilled it before going back to his work area. He pulled out a selection of ingredients and threw himself into his passion for chocolates.

* * *

Aha! A parking spot on the street in Freemont. That was more rare than three dry days in row in Spring. Dave pulled his little Mazda into the open space with a sigh of relief. Chris told him she’d promised to be there to pick up the naughty chocolates at six and it was already a little after that.

He hopped out of the car and raced over the ominously empty looking shop. A glance at the listed hours showed that they closed at four p.m. on Sundays.

“Dammit!”

He pulled his cell phone out of its holster and called Chris’ number. Just as he heard the phone begin to ring through, he saw movement in the shop. A husky man came out from behind the counter, wiping his hands on a towel. The hairnet was a very strange contrast to the motorcycle muscle shirt, black jeans and heavy black harness boots the approaching man wore.

Wow. This wasn’t what Dave had pictured in a chocolatier. Tattoos and leather? Yummm.