Bliss and the Art of Forever (A Hope Springs Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page A

standing to take a deep breath. “It smells amazing in here. You know that, don’t you?”
    It smelled like work. It smelled like his life.
    It smelled like chocolate.
    “I’m not sure I notice it anymore. Except sometimes doing laundry and catching a whiff on Addy’s clothes. Makes me wonder what I smell like.” And that was a thought best left right where it dropped, he decided, pushing open the door to the kitchen—the room took up a quarter of the leased space; two of its walls, the front and the left, faced the showroom—and avoiding the flurry of the shop.
    Brooklyn walked to the window of one-way glass above his marble work counter. It looked out over the display case, from behind which Lena and the temp took care of the customers. “That’s some kind of traffic. Two lines. Both five or six customers deep. And there’s the door opening again.” Arms crossed, she turned, the look on her face approving. “Very impressive, Mr. Drake. Especially since I know what those candies cost.”
    “Those candies are made by hand. With the highest quality ingredients to be had. They’re worth every penny,” he said, not minding at all that he sounded proud.
    She took that in, considering him. He could nearly see her mind working behind her bright blue eyes. “What’s your favorite?” she asked.
    “To eat or to make?”
    “Both.”
    Hmm. He’d never really thought about it. “The kid in me likes the Peanut Butter Crackle. I grind peanut brittle—and I make that, too—mixing it into a natural peanut butter I get from a supplier in upstate New York, then wrap it all up in a creamy milk chocolate.”
    “Yum,” she said appreciatively. “And the adult in you?”
    He walked toward her, put his hands on her shoulders, and spun her to face the showroom’s display case, leaning close as he released her and catching a whiff of something soft and natural, perfume or soap or shampoo.
    His gut tightened, and his heart thumped hard, and it took him several seconds to find his voice. Nope. This hadn’t been a good idea at all. “See that shiny green geodesic dome? The shell’s a dark bittersweet, but inside it’s fresh lime juice and añejo tequila in a white chocolate ganache.”
    “The shell’s chocolate? Even though it’s green?”
    “The green is cocoa butter.” He pointed to the right and a row of scalloped rounds. “Just like the frosted white with the brown splatters on that one is cocoa butter.”
    “What flavor is that one?”
    “S’mores.”
    “Seriously?” Her eyes, when she lifted her gaze to meet his, were wide and bright and so much like his daughter’s that anyone who saw them together and didn’t know the truth could easily mistake Brooklyn for Addy’s mom.
    Yep. Bad idea. Very bad idea , he mused, grinding his jaw. “I make the marshmallows, toast them, layer them with a milk chocolate ganache, and sprinkle on crushed graham cracker crumbs before sealing them up.”
    “No doubt you make the graham crackers, too.”
    He couldn’t decide if what sounded like admiration was sarcasm instead, but he nodded as she glanced through the window again. “What about the orange speckles on the red one there?”
    “That’s a raspberry caramel.”
    “They don’t look like chocolates at all.” She shook her head, as if finding the concept hard to believe. “How do you do that?”
    He thought back to the first artisan chocolates he’d seen at a shop in San Francisco, his fascination with them, and how it had grabbed hold. “The magic of iridescent powder and airbrushing the molds with red cocoa butter. I do that before pouring in the chocolate for the shell. The shells harden, I pipe in the filling, cover it all with more chocolate, then let it set.”
    “You make it sound so simple,” she said, and this time without a hint of anything but awe.
    He liked that, coming from her, but he didn’t stop to analyze why. “It’s as simple as teaching kindergarten. Meaning once you’ve been